What's a Listening Log? Well, the idea is quite simple. It's a weekly segment that consolidates all the mini-reviews Dozens Of Donuts has given on RateYourMusic over the past week, split between the Past and Present. A straightforward grading scale has been put in place, ranging from A+ to F-, with C acting as the baseline average. There is no set amount of reviews per week, just however many I get around to reviewing. And don't expect week-of reviews. I wait one month - with at least three listens under my belt - before I rate and review an album. Enjoy!
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Turns out Panchiko had more than just D>E>A>T>H>M>E>T>A>L, the enigmatic EP ridden with CD rot, dusted off at some Mom & Pop record shop, that took 4Chan by storm. After discovering their bubbling, cult-like status, Kicking Cars serves to actualize their existence as an unsigned, yet ridiculously-talented quartet of Brits whose music lay dormant for decades. Just three songs, the audio quality of Kicking Cars is noticeably more crisp than D>E>A>T>H>M>E>T>A>L, which allows their toe dip in Indietronica to radiate. This is best seen on 'Cut,' with its quirky, DIY synthesizers and warped diversions into Sci-Fi space sounds. 'Kicking Cars' does the same thing, but with slower pacing, rued by the most infamous breakbeat known to man. The list of songs I've come across that it's prominently featured in has to be over two dozen, marring my appreciation with jaded apathy. Shame because the bulk of experiences have occurred after 'Kicking Cars'' 2001 creation, but oh well.
Kicking Cars' calling card, and definite savior, is 'Sodium Chloride,' which stands toe-to-toe with 'D>E>a>T>H>M>E>T>a>L' as Panchiko's best track. Why? Well, to put it succinctly, it essentially combines Radiohead's 'Let Down' and Beta Band's 'Dry The Rain' with glorious synchronicity. The only downfall is the brevity, wherein an abrupt ending curtails what could've been an exceptional coda. On 'Sodium Chloride,' Owain's vocals reach their peak, impersonating the weary fragility of Thom Yorke well-equipped with adolescence maturity. It's another gem hidden in the rough. A testament to Panchiko's talents which, regrettably, never came to fruition.
B-
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2014 | Avant-Folk | Listen
HAILED BY THE DRUNKARD ON A RICKETY OLD TRAIN
Oof. Well, Richard Dawson can't go anywhere else but up after this. As apt as names go, Nothing Important parlays around atonal Avant-Folk with grating incongruity, pretentious lyrics, and shrill vocals. All, collectively, aspiring to make the most unpleasant Folk known to man. Knowing Dawson's future with Peasant and 2020 that ratchets down this surly cacophony is the only gleam of hope in this pile of refuse. The bookended duo of 'Judas Iscariot' and 'Doubting Thomas' are utterly useless, desecrating eleven minutes of runtime with shrill tuning and gassed, pondering pomposity. It's tough for me to see these two songs as anything but an attack on our ears, with the latter earning the dubious honor of second worst solely due to its tolerant bouts of silence.
As for 'Nothing Important' and 'The Vile Stuff,' Nothing Important's two behemoths galavanting Ol' Welsh folklore, exhausting would put it lightly. The former encapsulates Dawson's superimposed vanity with nonsensical lyric combinations that ignore whatever production patterns can be found in favor of drunken stumbling, the kind that one would find at spoken word night when the heckler gains control of the microphone. Is it curious? Sure. Is it enlightening or inquisitive? Not in the least. 'The Vile Stuff' fairs better, and it's surely Nothing Important's only worthwhile cut. The 16-minute affair utilizes much of the same techniques as the title track, however a welcome breathe of musical formality occurs, wherein Dawson's stupor transforms itself into theatrical competence and sinful moxie. In a strange way it reminds me of Swans, combining the hoarse pain of their No Wave era with the brutal militarism of their Post-Rock one. The anxiety-ridden emotion that arises at 'The Vile Stuff's' peak showcases Dawson's knack for encapsulating the deranged tall tale. It's just a shame the rest of Nothing Important offers no such dissent.
F+
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