Buried Treasure in a Spiral Shadow
Posted in Buried Treasure on November 1st, 2010 by H.P. TaskmasterIt had been my intention to spend yesterday (Sunday) making the November podcast using the suggested Southern theme, but two things kept me
from meeting that goal. First was homework, which can’t be helped. Second, and more pivotal, was the fact that I don’t yet own a physical copy of Spiral Shadow by Kylesa.
Fucking tragedy, right?
I tried to remedy this first at Sound Exchange in Wayne, my go-to shop for its proximity to my humble river valley and for the fact that if it’s between them and almost anyone else in the physical realm, I’d rather give them the money. They were a no dice. Thus began the agonizing, drawn-out process of not wanting to drive to Vintage Vinyl in Fords — an hour away on a good day — and knowing that I had zero chance of finding Spiral Shadow anywhere else near me.
My ride to Vintage Vinyl is agony, and not just because I have to spend the whole time anticipating what treasures I might find when I get there. It includes some of Northern New Jersey‘s most cripplingly boring roads, including Rt. 24, Rt. 78 and the ludicrously engineered Garden State Parkway. Nonetheless, at about four o’clock yesterday afternoon, after whining for nearly two hours about how much I didn’t want to make the trip — and no, it’s not lost on me that that’s long enough to make the trip twice over — off I went.
Should’ve called first. They didn’t have it. They’d only gotten
a few copies and those were gone. Boy, did I feel stupid. Who does that? Who spends two hours in a car at the prospect of buying a CD without calling first to make sure the store has it?
I drowned my jackass sorrows in picking up The Elf Albums by Ronnie James Dio (and the rest of Elf, who aren’t cool enough to get mentioned on the cover), a used copy of Celestial Hi-Fi by Sheavy, who I never particularly enjoy hearing but keep buying the records of when I see them, Hippie Killer by Bongripper for $6.99, a used copy of the Boris and Ian Astbury collaboration, BXI, and, for $3.99, the version of Entombed‘s Wolverine Blues with the (apparently not) titular Marvel Comics character on the front.
The latter was obviously the find of the trip, but even that wasn’t enough to make me feel like any less of an idiot for spending that much of my day in blind pursuit of Spiral Shadow, which, it should be noted, I still haven’t gotten and is now holding up the November podcast. I don’t own Black Tusk either, but there are enough bands around who sound just like them that I can let that go. The Kylesa I pretty much need. The dude behind the counter said they’d be getting more this week, and I might try another run tomorrow, but needless to say, I’ll be calling first.
You could probably throw darts at oddball combinations of rock bands for six years before you came up with Japanese experimentalists Boris and lead singer Ian Astbury of The Cult, so wouldn’t you know that would have to be the one that actually happened. It’s strange on paper and kind of strange in the hearing, but taking it from the perspective of Boris, who’ve done more collaborations and experimental pieces than I care or am able to count in their 18 years together, it’s just one more wacky thing to add to the list. In your best sitcom-mom voice: “Oh, that Boris. What will they get up to next?”
The debut release from BXI is a four-song self-titled EP, which was released by Southern Lord on Aug. 17. The EP is quickly surprising fans of both The Cult and Boris, as well as journalists across the globe, and has listeners taking this new collaboration quite seriously, making this official first concert together an exceptionally special performance for the unit.
Tokyo in late April. Astbury‘s vocals are a perfect match for Boris‘s straightforward, laid-back, but still raw and imaginative songwriting constructed for the EP; another intriguing display within the band’s ever-morphing, extensive résumé of releases, tours and collaborations.


