Sun City Girls
You're Never Alone with
a Cigarette (Singles Vol. 1)
(Abduction)
Sun City Girls are one of those cult bands that you hear about but rarely actually hear. SCG occupy that mythic place where all lines, all styles, all approaches converge. They somehow meld gypsy jazz, punk noise, surf guitar, hippie noodling, ecstatic free-form spazz-outs, esoteric mystery, intensely organized composition, chaos and virtuosity. Most of these rare or previously unreleased tracks were recorded in 1988. Brothers Alan and Richard Bishop play diverse musical traditions with a refreshing DIY ethos.
—John Adamian
Sun Ra
Media Dreams
(Art Yard)
A major rediscovery, Sun Ra's Media Dreams is one of the legendary jazz musician's finest albums. Originally self-released in 1978 in hideously small quantities and known to only the most obsessive fans, the album features Sun Ra in an atypically small quartet setting. Although there are some inspired solos from saxophonist John Gilmore, the album centers around Ra's inventive organ playing. The results are unlike anything else in his sprawling discography or the jazz tradition in general. The insistently simple melodies, fuzzed-out textures and aggressively tweaked repetitions suggest a fascinating sort of sci-fi minimalism. As a bonus, the reissue includes the full Italian concert where some of this material originated. Beautifully remastered and thoughtfully packaged.
—Jeff Jackson
Sirhan Sirhan
Blood
(Anodyne)
Are we looking at a full-on grunge revival? Sirhan Sirhan is re-exploring the sludge gurgling out of early '90s Seattle, offering fuzzed-out guitars, spastic drums and self-aware, are-they-kidding screaming (the lyrics straddle a line between sophomoric and ironic eloquence). The music kicks ass without the fascist precision of metal, displaying attitude and energy without the sloppy explosion of punk. They're named for Robert Kennedy's assassin, but the crucial historical touchstone may be Mudhoney's debut.
—Adam Bulger
Samantha Crain
The Confiscation: A Musical Novella
(Ramseur Records)
The Confiscation isn't merely bad—it might well be the most horrifyingly awful recording of the 21st century. Samantha Crain is a Cherokee woman from Oklahoma who is being packaged as a cross between Woody Guthrie, Radiohead and Bob Dylan. But her vocals are tuneless; her take on death would send Goths diving for cover; and the overall project would be too weird for Tim Burton. This five-track EP is subtitled "a musical novella." The effort to get through it was epic.
—Rob Weir
