1. |
Lost Reeds
01:50
|
|||
2. |
Bells
02:14
|
|||
3. |
More junk
02:38
|
|||
4. |
Junk Metal Jazz
02:17
|
|||
5. |
Junk Metal Jazz (vocal)
02:57
|
|||
6. |
||||
7. |
Chains
02:25
|
|||
8. |
Found Percussion
03:23
|
|||
9. |
Recorder
02:39
|
|||
10. |
Lost Reeds (reprise)
02:17
|
|||
11. |
If you like Junk Metal Jazz: Lost Reeds and Found Percussion, you may also like:
"Introducing the Confession" (NRR47)
by Samantha Glass
supported by 5 fans who also own “Junk Metal Jazz: Lost Reeds and Found Percussion”
go to album
supported by 5 fans who also own “Junk Metal Jazz: Lost Reeds and Found Percussion”
go to album
"Hollow" (NRR50)
by Bordreuil / Rowden
supported by 4 fans who also own “Junk Metal Jazz: Lost Reeds and Found Percussion”
Incredible display of control, discipline, and a deep knowledge of the resonant properties of stringed instruments. Virtuosic command of spectral variation, bow pressure, and the infinite distance between the bridge and the fingerboard. Highly recommended for snooty academic french school spectral music fans and rude texture-hungry harsh heads alike.
go to album
Two mind-expanding epics that clock in at 17 minutes apiece and blend drone, ambient, shoegaze, and traditional Indian music.
go to album
01-04 FORMLESS | COMPLETE
by The Supplicants
A group of Bay Area improvisers ed by percussionist Sameer Gupta create compelling spiritual Afro-Indo jazz.
go to album
Reclusive Rituals
by Shay Hazan
featured on Bandcamp Radio Jan 11, 2022
go to album
"A Strange Object Covered With Fur Which Breaks Your Heart" (NRR71)
by Howard Stelzer
supported by 4 fans who also own “Junk Metal Jazz: Lost Reeds and Found Percussion”
It's as if I'm standing in a foggy field, but I can feel the sun warming me still, somehow, despite the sky being completely cloudy and overcast. Stranger still, I'm content here, not afraid or even curious, but happy to just stand still, surrounded by the alien warmth. Then, I close my eyes, as if to look inward, into some deeper space and time beneath the terrestrial, an ink black sky under the Urth, opening downward. At last, a voice, barely emanating from a small radio - contact.
go to album
