Latest release from The Troubled Times… weirdly ‘relevant’ this year. And available on cassette.
Listen
A new collection of songs for the Times. Starting off with a weirdly upbeat track recorded pre- US election the tone drifts somewhat astray as the collection proceeds.
Recorded a new version for Poems & Lyrics by John Collie (1856). It includes acoustic bass and classical guitar. It’s set to the traditional Scottish tune ‘Skye Boat Song’, and starts with almost a doo-wop feel – before taking a darker turn, as the theme of bereavement is revealed:
“Some seriously scrambled dissonance. 80’s vocals hits 60’s electro/cut-up nonsense whilst smothering an ever mutating bassline […] the track contains more musical ideas in its 5 mins than some exhibit in musical careers.” – Simon Baker, What Lies Beneath
A big thank you to Radio Dolby 89.6FM for this podcast interview – hopefully an interesting audio documentary, and a chance to put the music (and stories behind it) over the years into context… here’s my life story so far, or at least a lot of the music parts!
“Some seriously scrambled dissonance. 80’s vocals hits 60’s electro/cut-up nonsense whilst smothering an ever mutating bassline […] the track contains more musical ideas in its 5 mins than some exhibit in some musical careers.” – Simon Baker, What Lies Beneath
(Dave solo – A-side is bass & electronics, B-side is clarinet & electronics)
Thank you SkirtedRecords for the video snippets, and Pyramid Club for hosting, Termite Lounge and Christian Wolves (Campbell Kneale and Sarah Bingle) for playing, Thomas Lambert for running the show, and everyone who came to the gig on Saturday! We had a blast… hopefully it won’t be another six years til the next time in Wellington!
The gig also marked the release of The Troubled Times’ new limited edition 7″ single Cellophane – only a couple of physical copies left so get in quick, or download from Bandcamp:
With all the subtlety of a peacock in a pigeon coop The Troubled Times return with a new album, dominated by the squeals of tortured amps and seriously tormented drums.
Boa features inadvertent post-rock gliding that crashes and bursts into jagged flames; some kind of illicit NZ spaghetti pizza western folds in on itself to become a fractalized polaroid of a dessicated lizard.
This tendency toward excess doesn’t preclude the odd lapse into a mumbled ad hoc song or 2 but the focus here seems to be on ‘loud’, ‘fucked’ and ‘intense’. The poor bloody neighbours…