BRONZE (S.F.) :
Electronic swirling psych rock from San Francisco. This description really nails it from the Tiny Mix Tapes blog as said by John Dwyer :
"For 9 years they have been slowly simmering in a pot
For 9 years I have been seeing them usurp every gig they have been on
I’ve never seen a bad Bronze show…they range from smiling and hypnotized dancing crowds
to a man getting violated and urinated on at a yuppie bar (everyone still smiling)
Always the entertainers
Always drunk with mad skills
With dashes of John Carpenter, Silver Apples, Liquid Liquid, Birthday Party, Harold Grosskopf, Klaus Schultze, Cluster, and Brian Ferry with a field recorder taped to his tux jacket
Ultra bottom heavy dance beats a la Brian Hock (shirt off/ shirt on, it’s all good to me)
Super hand-wringing oscillations home brewed by Miles Friction
and the ever-great Robert Spector delivering homilies from beyond the dimensional wall"
Jack Name :
Jack Name’s genius is the listener can never anticipate his next direction. A change of trajectory is as likely a return to the beginning as it is a sharp upwards spike that pulls one deeper into one’s seat and threatens unconsciousness. Nothing here is concrete or predictable. Songs float, attract, repel, and rebound off each other like pitch black matter. Reminiscent of late-era Can, Bruce Haack, Hans Edler, Solid Space, Dario Argento and VHS tapes.
Once upon a time, two eternal L.A.Drones! (thieves) pierced the line delimiting the real and the unreal with the magnificent ability to travel in time and also thanks to the magic hiding in the primes numbers and to the knowledge of the energy that the sound frequencies produce and support the multi-verse…These two could observe and assimilate the most interesting music that humans came along with in decades. So they met near the minimalism of Terry Riley, the proto electronic of Silver Apples, the dronic rock of the Velvet, the Kraut of Cluster, Neu, Can or Kraftwerk, and adore Brian Eno as a living demigod ... and feel close to the rebirth of the Synth, under the tutelage of punk with Suicide, Cabaret Voltaire, Crash Course in Science, through the Industrial apocalypse of Throbbing Gristle… See the birth of the synthesized pop of the Neue Deutsche Welle and DAF, and jumping to the new world to learn about new influxes of acid house, techno and the most primitive electro of the dark Detroit… Never stop breathing the most intoxicated fumes of the Jamaican dub, with people like The Scientist, or king Tubby. They say that no one knows who they are, because they are hidden with thieves (L.A.Drones!) masks!, paths not to be recognized in the akelarres sounds ... They say that Chris & Cosey might be hiding their true identity?
3110 N Broadway
Lincoln Heights, CA 90031
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