- January 2005 - Volcanic Tongue
- (review of 7" lathe)
Dunno if they've dropped the Flesh On Bone Trio for good
but these glam post-Industrialists (Matt Krefting, John
Shaw, Aaron Rosenblum) with connections to Double Leopards,
Virgin Eye Blood Brothers and The Believers just dropped
their heaviest short-form release to date in the shape
of an ultra-limited lathe that combines huge lungs of
frozen air with the sounds of aquatic nightlife as broadcast
over a warehouse tannoy system. Two sides, titled "Naked
Float" and "Elimination Of Present Life",
though the label also credits the A-side as "Son
Of Earth", so I guess this beautifully lonely murk
must be their theme song. If the malevolent hiss that
cloaks Throbbing Gristle's Live At The Rat sides is yr
kind of jam then you'll find plenty to warp yr head around
in the folds of this monster.
- November 11, 2004 - ApexOnline
- (review of split w/ Davenport)
...The split with Son of Earth is in a more contemplative
drone vein; S of E's contribution is spookily subterranean...
- October 27, 2004 - indieworkshop.com
- Melted Mind Volume 1
By Ryan Brown
Hailing from the mountains of the Western Massachusetts
countryside, possibly one of the most underrated bands
in the young thriving Avant Garde scene has to be Son
of Earth. To date they have a few releases under their
belt, mostly self released Cd-R’s as well as an LP with
their drone vending brothers and sisters, The Double Leopards.
Unlike the Double Leopards constant throb and white noise
buzz, Son of Earth on their newest cd "Carhole"
embraces the space between tones. On the first track "Floating
Image" bells chime, sounding like crystal glasses
filled with water and tapped with a spoon. Tones are expelled
from a source unknown, sustained notes which vibrate through
the atmosphere. One can hear the band shifting, fidgeting,
and communicating quietly. Who is communicating? Is it
the band or an invocated presence? These three compositions
have a ghostly quality to them slightly reminiscent of
Tibetan Buddhist ritual music, specifically the Shedur
or Ghost Exorcism ritual. "Carhole" presents
work with an extremely personal feel to it. These are
pieces that seem to contain the breath of life in every
note.
- September 1, 2004 - Onda Sonora Archives
- 01. SON OF EARTH
Track: Floating Image
Album: Carhole
Label: Apostasy Recordings
Abrimos el programa de esta semana desde la ciudad de
Amherst, en el estado norteamericano de Massachussetts,
donde se encuentra la sede del sello Apostasy, que edita
en edición limitada un disco de belleza minimalista y
a la vez complicada grabado en directo desde la sala Carhole
de Belchertown. Se trata de lo nuevo de Son of Earth,
un trío formado por Matt Krefting, Aaron Rosenblum y John
Shaw
The opening for this week’s session from the Apostasy
label offices in Amherst (Massachussets, US). A piece
of minimal but complex beauty recorded live at the Carhole
in Belchertown (MS, US). Son of Earth are Matt Krefting
(electronics, keyboards, tapes), Aaron Rosenblum (guitar,
electronics, radio, organ) and John Shaw (modified guitar,
electronics, percussion)
- July 2004 - Foxy Digitalis
- Reviews: Son of Earth
_Carhole_
By Brad Rose
Life inside a hollowed-out tree trunk is secretive. All
the happenings in this elaborate and delicately crafted
world are unknown to most people in the outside world.
Everything lives together. It is beautiful in its symbiotic
simplicity. "Floating Image" is a reflection of this reverie.
Hushed whispers speak an unintelligible language that
acts like the constant murmurs running through our collective
conscious. Glockenspiel chimes show the path to the top,
where we all bathe in the sun's luminance. This ethereal
place emanates the smell of mold and moss, but to our
senses, it is perfume for the masses. As the ghostly synth
tones rise toward the heavens and the sunlight paints
the walls, everything is revealed. This is a machine at
work. Each termite, holding hands, keeping this sanctuary
standing. "Floating Image" is all about its minimalist,
intricate beauty.
Life as a stowaway on a cross-Atlantic ocean liner, circa
1920, is lonely. You sit inside the depths of this metal
hull, listening to the wind churn up waves that violently
crash against this massive ship. "Walking the Transom"
is a reflection of this desolate hell. You squirm with
every creak and crack, thinking that this will be the
time the hull gives way and lets the freezing sea in.
Every so often, you can hear the fog horn bellow. It vibrates
everything, including the teeth in your skull; it feels
as though they could fall out at any moment. The only
way you can survive is to sneak up to the upper decks
and dig through the garbage, finding any leftover food
you can. While you're hiding, you catch a glimpse into
the main dining room where you hear glasses clinking and
see crystal chandeliers dropping from the ceiling. It
seems absurd to have wasted this much money on a boat.
As your destination draws near, you get dressed in your
one last pair of clean clothes and take a stroll on the
main deck. It's easy to blend in while everyone is out
there. The skies finally opened up today, and while most
are running to take cover from the rain, you just raise
your arms toward the sky and get drenched in its cold,
stinging glory. Life is definitely for the living.
Life in a science lab is full of contrasts. Sometimes
it's perfect - you get everything you need and are in
a clean, safe environment. There's a utopian aspect to
it at times, but those moments often turn creepy fast.
It's the extended periods of time in between those moments
that are hell. There's nothing worse than being poked,
prodded, injected, and everything else imaginable by some
balding guy in a pristine white lab coat. This is "Owl's
Vector Speech." It teeters between the calm, pleasant
days, and the hellish, scary ones. The dichotomy between
the serenity and misery that this life exudes. It's impossible
to get a firm grasp on; just when you think you've got
the days figured out and prepare yourself mentally for
the torture you're about to undergo, they mix things up
just to fuck with you. It's like some evil circus where
the ringleader randomly spits fire into the audience when
it's least expected. Half of the people are entertained
and enjoy themselves (assuming the audience is as equally
twisted) and the other half are charred. At least they
can just get up and leave. For those of us inside these
cages, there's no way to escape...
- May 5, 2004 - Garden City Telegram
- Foreign Words, Funny Names
At Random
By Dolores Hope
...it is a funky and fun store. For instance, it displays
a transformation of a former rainwater cistern.
u u u
Names of music groups. Sunburned Hand of the Man, Son
of Earth, Six Organs of Admittance, Cul de Sac, Madvillain,
Train, Ambulance LTD, Malt Banana, the Sleepy Jackson,
Eagles of Death Metal, Posies, Muse, the Spree, the Frames,
the Butchies, Damnwells, Shot'nez, Songs from a Random
House, Butchershop Quartet, Cursive, Gingersol, Maplewood,
Particle, Metropolitan Coffee, Living Stone, Greasy Beans,
Bootleg Remedy, Still Evolved, Dresden Dolls, Average
White Bread, Lambchop, Sixteen Horsepower, the Glands,
the Cookers, the Funky Meters, Tortoise, Tarantula, Spymob,
Morbid Angel, Suffocation, Israel Vibration, Tower of
Power, Guided by Voices, Peace Pipes, Buckethead, Picket
Fence, Innocence Mission, Valley of the Greats, Death
Cab for Cutie, Masters of the Psaltic Art, and H.I.M.
(His Infernal Majesty).
u u u
Common Ground Coffeehouse is a restaurant on South Main
in Hutchinson...
- April 2004 - Utne (Reader)
- Folk Music's New Genre
Benders
By Chris Dodge
...In the case of Son of Earth's Man (Apostasy Recordings),
the package is made of hinged balsa marked with a woodburned
drawing.
Son of Earth's Aaron Rosenblum sees himself as part of
a modern folk community that looks to the internet for
cross-pollination while bypassing the record industry.
"This is a group of people developing entirely new ways
of playing the instruments at hand, or inventing new ones,
making music for themselves and those around them," he
says.
There are no firm plans for a free-folk festival this
spring, but...
- August 2003 - The Wire
- The Fire Down Below
By David Keenan
...Elsewhere, the Son of Earth-Flesh on Bone trio utilised
an old Dansette, amplication to activate a low level drone
that sounded like an orchestra of cranked 78s whose grooves
had worn right through...
- July 2003 - Arthur, vol. 5
- Bull Tongue
By Byron Coley and Thurston Moore
Double Leopards, along with Amherst, MA's Son of Earth-Flesh
on Bone, Have become two of New England's most rewarding
of improvising groups. Niether are featured much at the
acclaimed outposts of this music (NYC's Tonic and Knitting
Factory) but, along with their cojoined ensemble Shackamaxon,
have become far more challenging and spirit foward than
the stalwarts consistently booked at these joints. So
they're pretty submerged below the pop/improv strata but
the recordings bear them out by greatness. Son of Earth's
label Apostasy released a split LP of these two which
is remarkable (and very limited-act fast).
- May 4, 2003 - H(ear)
- LIVE! AT THE BRATTLEBORO
FREE FOLK FESTIVAL...5/3/03
By Carson Arnold
...Alas, unfortunately- and let's get this over with,
shall we- what I thought was a random soundcheck was apparently
the opening act...Three boys pipin' the name Son Of Earth
were far from anything we knew as folk and yet another
reminder of today's contemporary grain of beans who aren't
interested in atonality, but just regular boys and girls
who simply just...can't...play. Squatting on the floor
like circle-jerk monks, accompanied by the single tone
of an instrument or two (including a suitcase guitar,
built and designed by one of the members as a harp of
sorts, pretty neat) and a string of whirly-woo foot pedals
which were ever so optically played with, Son Of Earth
delivered a runny-nose of electrical miminalism nearly
identical to a rip-off of Neu!'s "Sonderangebot" and other
two note patterns you'll never hear anywhere else, unless
of course it's in some place where the stage has been
somehow cleared for people to play with themselves for
half an hour, and sadly, today, it was here momentarily.
But farewell, they zipped up their flies and left...
- July 8, 2002 - desiderata (number twelve)
- Review of Son of Earth @ CPOP Gallery
in Detroit, MI
son of earth-flesh on bone stood
out due to their quietly involved interplay & the
film strip visuals. it is a generous thing to do for the
audience to give them something to look at besides the
knitted brows and clenched muscles of the improvising
groups. subtle electronics, with acoustic instrumeents
used very quietly, but with power, poise & grace.
it truly sounded like they had played together enuff to
mesh well.
- October 25, 2001 - Valley Advocate
- Son of Who?
Son of Earth-Flesh on Bone is
one of several groups taking over the Montague Bookmill
on Thursday evenings as part of the new Grist series.
By James Heflin
If you throw in a Son of Earth-Flesh on Bone CD expecting
a little something "alternative" (what with the wacky
name and all) you may be somewhat surprised when your
ears all but stand on end. Their sound is somewhere between
getting up close and personal with a vacuum cleaner and
listening to John Cage.
Buried in the pile of miscellaneous garbage, toys, effects
pedals, percussions and stringed instruments, the Amherst
trio milks out the odd sounds, adjusts them on the fly,
and gets way gone. It's random, noisy, self-indulgent
and very cool.
The surprising thing is how fun this all is. The buzzes
and skronks and toy pianos drop into the mix at random
times, and you get the feeling that the three may well
be in a contest to see who can be the most absurd. They
seem to constantly dare the audience to keep listening,
and add many a wash of cacophonous sound calculated to
drive listeners right out the door.
Unlike your average musicians, Son of Earth-Flesh on Bone
draws on sources like coffee grinders and microwaves for
that deep-down inspiration. They don't call this "new
music" for nothing. It's music that makes your brain do
new and interesting things, and it offers a pleasant,
if strange, sort of relief from the common angst-ridden
fare.
This bombastic trio is one of several groups of noisemakers
who are taking over the otherwise tranquil Montague Bookmill
on Thursday evenings as part of the new Grist series.
As they say in Arkansas, "enjoy all you can stand."
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