Somewhere on the downbeat in Ennio Morricone's soundtrack to 'The Heretic's' "Magic and Ecstasy" are the ghost notes that the film's teenage Regan must find alarming, like a Trashmen record played at the wrong speed.
'Heart of the Congos' has seen many ups and downs, from the widespread acclaim of today to the creative ferment of late '70s Kingston and all the neglect, discovery, and possible theft that came in between. Through all that noise the album shines, a work of undeniable inspiration and enigmatic effect, and a lasting testament to Lee Perry and his studio.
Presenting the debut of a new regular feature on Sound Affects: Counterbalance, where Jason Mendelsohn and Eric Klinger debate the merits of some of the most critically-acclaimed albums of all time.
The awake, aware folks who make and receive these offerings celebrate an ever-evolving music that resists boundaries, the sort capable of communication that transcends language and explanation.
Taking a break from prepping for his world tour, Mice Parade's Adam Pierce answers PopMatters' 20 Questions, giving a healthy piece of advice for Barack Obama, revealing which 'Scooby Doo' character he most resembles, and why Stephen Hawking's descriptions of our future are downright terrifying...
Ennio Morricone's score to the 1977 film 'The Exorcist II: The Heretic' is anything but predictable. The man responsible for that bravado-ridden whistle we all know from 'The Good, the Bad & the Ugly' does something on this soundtrack that might be truly hellish if not for its roots in exotica.
The international success of 'Police and Thieves' made it ubiquitous for fans of reggae and punk alike, but the album's roots are particular to the inner workings of vital, very-much-Jamaican studios like the Black Ark.
Most of the Clash's music videos were no-frills performance clips. The reason was simple: the Clash owned the stage.
A long string of cribbed beats and run together pop references, "Alejandro" is a song truly made up of nothing, not even bothering to revel in its vacuity.
Mike Reed’s People, Places, and Things present a bold vision of not just what improvised music has been in the past, but what it can be in the future.