Hypnotic Brass Ensemble and Tony Allen at Cargo, 29/01/09

The Hypnotic Brass Ensemble are eight horn-playing sons of Phil Cohran, trumpeter and sometime member of the Arkestra and AACM. That is a big enough draw on its own, right? Apparently not: Afrobeat legend Tony Allen was on the ticket too, having played with the HBE at an Honest Jon’s event last year. Enough now, surely? If only it was.

Alva Noto, Xerrox Vol.2 (Raster-Noton)

When Alva Noto gets a good idea, he really likes to bleed it for all its worth. Like a cat with a piece of string, teasing it apart until little fibres (oh fuck off US English spellcheck, nowt wrong with that) litter the carpet. Ah, I love that cat really. We’re now onto the second of five promised Xerrox installments, to go along with Trans mini-series and the trilogy of Noto-Sakamotos (soon to be a tetralogy with the release of the long awaited UTP). I know how important the ideas of repetition and replication are to Noto, particularly with regard to Xerrox, but this is getting ridiculous.

Elegi, Varde (Miasmah)

The reputation of Robert Falcon Scott has been so traduced in the years since his grand Antarctic misadventures that he would have been as well wringing the neck of Oates with is own bare hands, before feeding his meagre purple- blue remains to the huskies. Assuming he had brought any huskies that is, the useless old fool. The reputation of Tommy Jansen, aka Elegi, is heading in precisely the opposite direction, and at a far greater speed than Scott’s frostbitten shuffle.

Male, All Are Welcome; Baja, Aether Obelisk (both Other Electricities)

The windmills on the logo of the Other Electricities label aren’t what they are tilting at. They are taking aim at a bigger target: the building of a expansive and eclectic catalogue of forward-thinking music. Avant rock, experimental electronica and all manner of strange folk are finding a home here. With a couple of new – and very different – records by Male and Baja, they continue to dream their improbable dream.

Svarte Greiner, Kappe (Type)

Those long Norwegian winters must really be taking their toll. Listening to the new album by Svarte Greiner (aka Erik Skodvin) makes the classical stylings of 2006′s Knife – not to mention the Deaf Center records – seem almost stately in comparison; Kappe appears ramshackle, poorly lit and certainly not seaworthy. Finding a way in through its huge, portentous-looking doors is tough, but once in, you may well find them chained behind you, and yourself totally cut adrift.

Ntshuks Bonga’s Qwati at Vortex, 15/01/08

My new year’s resolution this year was to see more live jazz. But where to start? Well, I figured I should apply the rule I use when buying CDs on the Blue Note label: who is the drummer? If it is Elvin, or Tony, then most likely I own it. The rhythm section for this gig in the Vortex schedules leapt out straight away: not just was Mark Sanders (who I’ve seen before playing with the Spring Heel Jack types, and whose solo percussion album Swallow Chase I’d happily recommend) in the traps, but he was joined by Oren Marshall. Which of course means not bass and drums, but tuba and drums. In a township jazz setting. This I had to see.

Animal Collective, Merriweather Post Pavilion (Domino)

Given how long it took me to put together the 2008 list (that huge team of monkeys wouldn’t teach themselves Advanced Excel, so someone had to do it), I’ve been thinking that I’ll close entries for the best album of 2009 some time at the end of January. Just time for Animal Collective to put forward their latest for my consideration then. Maybe I don’t need to hear any others. Maybe I can’t hear any others, for this latest sweet confection has pumped my brain so full of sugar that I’ve temporarily lost the ability to comprehend the inputs from any of my five senses.

Mountains, Choral (Thrill Jockey)

With apologies to anyone who is reading this in Greenland or Siberia, using a laptop to warm their fingers most likely, but it is fucking freezing here in London. In fact it has been for ages, and I’m sick to my ice-cold toes of it. As if it wasn’t bad enough to be clocking back in at the cardboard box factory after the great xmas idleness, I have to shuffle there stiff of leg and blue of nose, every few metres sending my heart skipping as I skite on a patch of ice. The only thing that has been keeping me warm (other than all the scarves I acquired as xmas presents, and other than the incredibly energetic shifts I’ve been putting in on the production line – hey, they might be reading) is the gorgeous new record from new Thrill Jockey signings Mountains.

Various Production, The Invisible Lodger (Fire)

Is there anything than more perfectly symbolises the sound of a new year crashing in through the walls of the present than the ramblings of a drunk Scotsman? If you were at a party with me, the answer is clearly no (and just to reiterate: my hand was merely resting on your girlfriend’s bum). Seems most fitting that the first review of this new year should feature the sparkings from the synapses of Scottish poet Gerry Mitchell. So, without further ado, let us do as the North Koreans do, and glorify this year as year of new great revolutionary upswing while sounding high the trumpet calls of the general onward march.

We travel the airways…

The bad and beautiful gLASSsHRIMP makes its post-xmas return to Resonance FM tonight, aiming to shed the excess pounds it has gained over the festive period via some vigorous gyration to some heavyweight tunes.

Our new slot is Tuesdays, from 10 to 11.30pm. Or 11pm. In typical Resonance fashion, we’re not exactly sure when it will end.