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New site? Maybe some day.
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La tâche la plus ardue dans cette chronique sera d’attribuer des étiquettes à cet album quasi instrumental qui en seulement 4 morceaux d’une durée oscillant entre 6 et 24 minutes parvient à concilier des extrêmes. Au bout des 5 minutes de bruits océaniques et autres clignotis électroniques qui constituent l’intro de «Troy Landmammal», on est tenté de leur coller un Space Rock… jusqu’à ce qu’un rideau vaporeux aux douces saturations s’installe en arrière-plan, que les vagues s’éloignent et les clignotis s’éteignent, que la vapeur se condense jusqu’à devenir palpable, donnant un appui à des instruments qui commençaient à se faire attendre et qui s’échauffent tranquillement via une sorte de jam dont on retrouvera une certaine groovitude sur les assez nombreux interludes du même type qui jalonnent ‘Conifer’, mais qui ne s’éternisent jamais puisque ce quatuor de Portland n’aime pas se complaire dans la quiétude…
C’est ainsi qu’à cette parenthèse posée succèdent sans prévenir des piaillements torturés inhumains qui s’intensifient sous des coups de hache meurtriers vicieusement assénés via les riffs saccadés d’une guitare assassine qui ne cessera de frapper qu’une fois sa victime irréversiblement occise, pour repartir, contentée, au rythme d’une batterie insouciante et galopante.
Tout bien réfléchi, après ce premier morceau, on leur octroierait bien un Death Metal… Oui, mais, débute «Turning Sand Into Glass» dont les premières notes sont en fait des murmures fantomatiques seulement troublés par des apparitions sporadiques de guitare… Allons bon, mettons leur un Ambiant… puis les murmures se transforment soudainement en de voraces éructations préhistoriques, tapies mais à l’affût, attendant le bon moment pour s’élancer avidement, au son de 6 cordes plus sporadiques du tout, sur une proie terrorisée qui tente de se débattre vainement entre les crocs de l'assaillant en de molles convulsions, concrétisées par une basse dévitalisée, avant d’exhaler son dernier souffle. Cette fois c’est la bonne, ils auront droit à un Sludge.
Et bien sûre «Widowmaker», LA piste paisible du tracklisting, n’a encore rien à voir avec les titres précédents et inciterait à mettre une étiquette Folk (?), jusqu’à ce qu’on retombe dans le primitif via «Albuquerque Reprise» et son chant suppliant auquel des cris carnivores font écho…
Quel que soit l’étiquetage final, une chose est sûre, c’est que dans son sludge ou dans son pseudo folk, Conifer évolue dans une atmosphère toujours angoissante due à une gravité ambiante, pourtant jamais à son comble, résultat d’une doublette basse / guitare baritone et d’une lead guitare redoutable qui n’a jamais besoin de monter dans les aigus pour se faire nuisance, d’une nuisance sonore exemplaire.
Conifer en trois mots : lunatique, imprévisible, latent
-marystonage, Mai 2005
PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THIS SAYS
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the sad thing is I can read and understand 65% of that but I can't give you a good enough translation for it to be worthwhile for you.
Carina would know. |
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The most difficult task in this chronicle will be to allot labels to this quasi instrumental album which in only 4 one duration old pieces oscillating between 6 and 24 minutes manages to reconcile extremes. At the end of the 5 minutes of oceanic noises and other clignotis electronic which constitutes the intro of "Troy Landmammal", one is tempted to stick to them Space Rock... until a vaporous curtain with soft saturations settles in background, that the waves move away and the clignotis die out, that the vapor condenses until becoming palpable, giving a support to instruments which started to be made wait and which warm up quietly via a kind of jam which one will find a certain groovitude on the rather many interludes of the same type which mark out \' Conifer', but which never lasts for ever since this Portland cement quartet Thus this bracket posed succeed without preventing inhuman tortured squawkings which intensify under fatal blows of axe faultily assénés via the jerked riffs of a guitar assassinates which will cease irréversiblement striking only one time its victim occise, to set out again, satisfied, at the rate/rhythm of a battery carefree and gallopping. Any good reflected, after this first piece, one would grant Death Metal well to them... Yes, but, "Turning Sand Into Glass begins" whose first notes are in fact of the ghostly murmurs only disturbed by sporadic appearances of guitar... Let us go good, put their Ambient... then murmurs transform themselves suddenly into voracious prehistoric éructations, tapies but with the mounting, waiting the good moment to spring greedily, with the sound of 6 more sporadic cords of the whole, on a terrorized prey which tries to struggle vainly between the hooks of the attacker in soft convulsions, concretized by low devitalized, before exhaling its last breath. This time it is the maid, they will have right to Sludge. And of course "Widowmaker", the peaceful track of the tracklisting, does not have yet anything to see with the preceding titles and would encourage to put a Folk label (?), until one falls down in the primitive one via "Albuquerque Reprise again" and its begging song to which carnivorous cries make echo... Whatever the final labelling, a thing is sure, it is that in its sludge or its pseudo folk, Conifer always evolves/moves in an atmosphere distressing due to an ambient gravity, however never with its roof, result of a low doublette/guitar baritone and of a lead frightening guitar which never does not require to go up in the acute ones to be made harmful effect, of an exemplary sound harmful effect. Conifer in three words: whimsical, unforeseeable, latent - marystonage, May 2005 |
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well aaron was reading this to me last night...i started telling him what things meant, but since you asked Anne..i won't translate
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Anne has yet to acknowledge this, please translate Carina. |
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to sum it up quickly, I think it says JOE SUCKS!!!
take that bitch. |
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I thought it said something about how Conifer is much younger then Grief. |
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ahahah
Joe you'd have better asked me directly ! |
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That guy is completely out of wack, fucking poetics my ass.
I'm on it...finished the first paragraph.
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The worst grammar possible... |
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What the fuck does she thinks she comes from? A fucking 19th century French classical French literature..that shit is full of imagery (?).
Drives me nuts.
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I can't do that shit, that girl sucks at reviews...
if you can't say it in less than 40 words. Don't say it.
PAin in the ass. |
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I'm going to get murdered now...ahaha..
One thing I have to say, the vocabulary of this review is not for somebody who's been living in the US for the past 5 years without basically no communication in French.
Seriously. |
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The most difficult task about this quasi instrumental album is to put it in the right category, between 6 and 24 minutes this band switches between extreme musical genres. After 5 minutes of ocean soundscapes and other electronic loops, which is the intro “Troy Landmammal”, one would be tempted to call them Space Rock…until a steamy curtain with subtle saturations takes place in the background, when the waves slowly get away and the electronics loops fade away, when the steam gets so dense you can feel it, just when you feel the need for instrumentation this is when it slowly starts in a sort of very groovy jam which you can hear many times in this album, a jam which never repeats itself as this 4 guys from Portland do not like monotony.
This is when, after this subtle break, than the torturous inhuman squawking appears without warning, and it intensifies under the murderous and vicious hits of an axe, a guitar which will stop hitting its prey once irreversible occise (ed - WTF does that mean?), to start again, contempted, along a nonchalant and fast drum beat.
Thinking about it twice, after this second song you could almost say they’re Death Metal. Yeap, until “Turning Sand Into Glass” starts… with ghostly murmurs only troubled by the irregular guitar riffs. What the heck, let’s call them Ambient…then these murmurs suddenly change into verocious prehistoric growls, quiet but on the hunt, waiting for the right time to jump on its terrorized prey. A prey who’s trying to get away from the mouth of the hunter with loosy convulsion before letting go it’s last breath.
Along with the guitar sound now completely regular is strongly reinforced by a lifeless bass, before letting go it’s last breath.
Now this is right, it’s Sludge.
And for sure “Widowmaker”, the quiet song of the tracklisting has nothing to do with the other titles and aim more in the Folk genre, until it gets back into a primal feel with « Albuquerque Reprise » with its begging singing which carnivorous screams echo to.
No matter what category you end up putting Conifer in, one sure thing is let it be Sludge or Pseudo Folk, they evolve in an constant anxious atmosphere cause by a never satisfied ambiante gravity resulting from a guitar baritone and from a dreadfull lead guitar which doesn’t have to get into high pitch to make itself hear, total noise attack.
Conifer in 3 words: lunatic, unprevisible, latent (WTF does latent means anyway ?)
Conifer en trois mots : lunatique, imprévisible, latent
-marystonage, Mai 2005
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Note from the translator:
I did that in 30 minutes when I should have done it in 1 hour. I'm at work I do not have any grammar and/or dictionaries with me. I went through it 2 times when I'm supposed to run it 5 times. I haven't translate anything in 5 years....I feel like I totally murdered this review and the English language. I swear I graduated with A+ grades in translation (both English/French, French/English).
You just cant see it here.
Sorry. |
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if anne doesn't know french, where does her accent come from? |
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...from all the German spams I get in my inbox. |
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then what do you get from all the porno and viagra spam? |
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nothing at all, they're all in English... |
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how bout the ones about morgatages and sexy coeds? |
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occise = dead
latent = ready to attack
I'm sorry you find I suck as a reviewer.......................................... |
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i'm actually a legal translator specializing in french/english translation but i'm expensive =) |
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Anne has been lying to all of us all along, she isn't really from France, but rather New Jersey. |
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marystonage said: occise = dead
latent = ready to attack
I'm sorry you find I suck as a reviewer.......................................... |
Well, I just think you're too elaborate and use imagery a bit too much. Like I said, if you can't say it in less than 40 words don't say it. I work at a record store, and I read a lot of reviews for work and really, the shorter straight to the point, the better. |
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si tu veux
mais slowend, contient 75% de chroniques alors autant s'appliquer à faire savoir aux gens comment ça sonne, comparer à telle ou telle bande n'est pas tjs suffisant et un peu facile...
jettes un oeil aux restes des chros, les miennes ou d'autres, et tu comprendras ptêt le concept... en tout cas ça marche, j'en ai eu la preuve plus d'une fois... |
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Stop fighting, jeez. Let's just all celebrate our love for Conifer |
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yeah, that's what i did via this oh so shitty review
(shame i like fighting)
adios |
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thnx. I didn't see this before.
we just got home form Chicago. |
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yeah.. I don't think it's fighting if no one can understand it. |
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