All About Jazz needs your help and we have a deal. Pay $20 and we'll hide those six pesky Google ads that appear on every page, plus this box and the slideout box on the right for a full year! You'll also fund website expansion.
Among other things, the New York City-based space rockers White Hills will give any stereo system a workout by pushing the limits of acceptable sonic distortion, sort of like a proving grounds for aural integrity. Unabashedly loud, and progressing with a massive wall-of-sound approach, this album tenders a psycho-rock brew tinged with thrashing guitar licks amid a few nods to Sonic Youth, or Pink Floyd on steroids.
The magnum opus is the fifteen-minute closer, "I Write a Thousand Letters (Pulp on Bone)." With a spattered Ravel "Bolero" underpinning, the musicians summon hideous environs via swarming electronics and guitarist Dave W's maniacal psychedelic riffs, the band transmitting imagery that invokes a day of reckoning type outlook.
Roaring drums impart a haunting, cyclical rhythmic force atop cascading layers of distortion-laced, sound-shaping maneuvers to culminate a program that conveys a take no prisoners mindset. Ultimately, White Hills is a unit that merges the old and new with a distinct framework, perhaps alluding to social breakdowns or global upheaval. Play it at your own risk.
Personnel: Dave W: guitar, vocals; Ego Sensation: bass; Antronhy: treatments, synths, backup vocals; Nick Name: drums.
I love jazz because I enjoy the freedom.
I was first exposed to jazz when I was 17.
I met Cedar Walton at a concert in San Paulo.
The best show I ever attended was Helio Jambao trio.
The first jazz record I bought was Witchcraft by George Benson.
My advice to new listeners is listen to the old school first.