Mono - Hymn To The Immortal Wind

I now have a few records on the Temporary Residence label and every one of them sounds similar in some respects-with the roster’s love of dynamics and the label’s love of anything with a post-rock moniker.

Mono, despite possessing one of the greatest “Duh, Why didn’t I think of that?” names of all time, create music that’s perfect for the T.R. label, but they do it so exquisitely that it probably deserves a better title than the pretentious “post-rock” moniker.

Let’s call it what it really is: progressive instrumental rock music. And while they take their own sweet time gearing up to the glacial collapse that seems to come with every ending, we need to acknowledge that they’ve put a lot of blood, sweat, and violins into that epic earthquake.

Hymn To The Immortal Wind is exactly that, because it provides guitarists Takaakira Goto and Yoda Suematsu work together as if they’re sharing one guitar cord, creating beautiful countermelodies before they smash on another pedal lying on the floor like they’re hitting a detonation box.

And then there’s those aforementioned strings which pop up throughout Hymn, taking the album beyond the soundtrack motif that Explosions In The Sky now seem to have a monopoly on. Instead, there’s a clear intent that Mono have created this record out of the love of their craft.

The chamber orchestra is something else, but it’s Steve Albini’s documentation of these instruments that makes it all work. This might be the most beautiful record he has ever recorded, so bully to the band itself for allowing that distinction to fall upon his studio.

Singles 45's and Under: Shellac - The Rude Gesture

It starts off like a dirge.

Hang on. I forgot to switch the speed to 45.”

It starts off like some early history math rock gem, which is funny because Steve Albini looks like an analytical guy.

I’m speaking to Shellac’s Rude Gesture e.p., a three-song single that I’d count more as a single than an e.p. But why cause trouble?

I gotta believe that-from a singles perspective-“Billiard Song” counts as the “hit” side, or at least the emphasis track. I mean, you’d think the “emphasis” track would be “side A,” of which I’m guessing as The Rude Gesture leaves a lot to be desired in terms of information.

What it does have, and I specifically remember this when I did a mail order purchase-remember those?-with Touch & Go records back in the day. I used to think Touch & Go was the shit back when you actually could think of record labels as “the shit.”

“And company? You can’t buy company!” goes Albini on that track. It’s a stallion of dry-sounding guitar work with a bit of tempo change shenanigans after bits of ratta-tat-tat staccato jabs. It’s a bit long-winded, with bits of big chord statements about…a dude that “cursed like a billiard player.”

Now that I look at the liner notes, it tells me that “The Billiard Player” was the last song on this e.p. Side B.

“Rambler Song” is more of my style, engaging and snotty.

It’s the package itself that’s the draw, though I hardly see why. My limited edition screenprint, reportedly made from root beer concentrate, has faded into a yellowy hue from its original color of brown.

Actually, that is kind of cool.

And rare too. I noticed like copies with asking prices as high as $75.

The songs may not be worth that much-and they’re not, if purchased digitally-but the memories sure might be, with this post-punk blast from an era when you could still buy things on faith from both the bands and the label they were signed to.