Originally released as a four-song EP on Flying Nun in 1989, 'Time Flowing Backwards' was reissued by Homestead Records in 1991 with six additional tracks. 'Time Flowing Backwards' has a bigger, crunchier sound than its predecessor, Jefferies' 'Messages for the Cakekitchen,' though it shares that album's sense of droning urgency. Enjoy this and 'World of Sand.'
The purpose of this blog is to expose you to the unique and unrepeatable New Zealand scene known as "Dunedin Sound" that emerged in New Zealand in the early eighties. This space takes over from wonderful blogs that in their time served to make known to the world some of the most significant bands and records of that period. The present collection is dedicated to all those kiwi bands -many of them already forgotten- who, without knowing it, wrote a very important page in the history of music.
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta The Cakekitchen. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta The Cakekitchen. Mostrar todas las entradas
martes, 27 de marzo de 2018
The Cakekitchen - World of Sand (1991)
'World of Sand' succeeded 1989's 'Time Flowing Backwards' EP, which was the official debut of Graeme Jefferies' recordings under the Cakekitchen moniker. It may be argued, however, that Jefferies' Messages for the Cakekitchen, released under his own name in 1988, was the true birth of Cakekitchen. The tightly crafted tension and claustrophobic nature of 'Messages...' is less apparent but not lost entirely in 'World of Sand.' A more polished affair, it is still unmistakably Jefferies, whose rich, guttural vocals appear alternatively menacing and tender. The revolving cast of musicians that have appeared in Cakekitchen over the years includes Alastair Galbraith, represented on this album in the haunting, gentle lilt of the title track, and the Clean's Hamish Kilgour.
sábado, 24 de marzo de 2018
The Cakekitchen – The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea (1996)
Recorded by the same duo lineup from Stompin' and again with Galbraith putting in a guest appearance on violin on the closing noise-then-peace instrumental "Escape From Fire Island," Devil can be understandably seen as almost the second half of a double album -- all tracks from both appear to have been recorded during the same series of sessions over the course of two years. Here, though, the Cakekitchen create probably their best overall effort yet, heralded in large part by the opening track "Old Grey Coast," over 11 minutes in length and covering both the straightforward rock and the avant-garde impulses of the band in equal measure, with a scraggly opening, a solid chugging midsection, and a majestic, lovely closing coda -- one of Jefferies' finest moments no matter which bands he's been in. "Bald Old Bear," originally a single preceding the album's release, follows up that with another mix of electric power and relaxed projection that's often been a Cakekitchen element, interspersed with breaks of gentle guitar chiming. Jefferies again pulls no punches lyrically, even while he almost serenely sings through his trademark reverb semi-fog; "Baby I Luv You" has "You're so bloody shallow" serving as a chorus, while "Prophet of the Underground" rips into the titular figure -- whoever it may be -- with a vengeance, matched nicely by a very strong, droney riff. "Make a God of Money" is another definite career highlight -- one of Jefferies' most spare, skeletal songs; dark acoustic guitar picking and subliminal bass support a vicious (but again, very softly sung) lyric about the impact of love and monetary, before revving up into a snarling thrash at the close. Fellow musical maverick Hamish Kilgour helps on "Ballad of Oxford Circus" and "Take It Easy With Me," providing both a soothing and aggressive closing song-with-lyric performance. Devil definitely makes its case with skill and style.
The Cakekitchen – Stompin' Thru The Boneyard (1994)
Now essentially a duo, with Jean-Yves Douet handling the drums and Jefferies handling just about everything else, on their fourth album the Cakekitchen cook up another fine set of the post-punk/indie rock with which they made their name: rock mixed with experimental diversions that's just slightly off kilter. They make no radical reinventions at this point -- even eternal guest performer Galbraith and his violin surfaces again on the part-noise, part-sweet strum "The Mad Clarinet" -- but Jefferies' songs still have fire. "Tell Me Why You Lie" starts things off very promisingly. Brash and just thrashy enough, his very low-key vocals sneak around the three-chord fuzz well. "Even as We Sleep" raises the bar a bit higher by tackling the most recent of rock clichés -- the soft/loud/soft approach -- with more snaky delicacy than most. The quiet parts have a sharp tension and the noisier places maintain more of a wash than a roar, turning into a feedback, waltz-time swing in the song's midsection before concluding as it started. Production throughout is a (likely intentional) mix of the crisp and the boxy. Recording credits are named as cities rather than studios, so it's likely that Jefferies recorded things as he went; as ever he has a wonderful talent for arranging what he and his cohorts come up with. "Bad Bodied Girl" stands out here; while a more straightforward song, the layering of acoustic and electric guitars flows excellently. Jefferies as a performer again more than meets the criterion for interesting, whether considering the raging riff and shades of queasy feedback that carry "Mr. Adrian's Lost in His Last Panic Attack" or the piano/guitar combination that concludes the lengthy "Hole in My Shoe." In sum, another fine album from a remarkably consistent band.
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