A far cry from the faux-hippie, jam-heavy psychedelia that loosely defines the New Weird America movement, the second volume of the New Weird Australia compilations show an entirely different breed of weirdness from down-under. While the American movement emphasizes a folk-influence, the majority of tracks here are electronic, but they nonetheless provide a fairly diverse cross-section of the Australian experimental scene—although when one considers the murderous koala bear art work, he can‘t help but ponder how tongue-in-cheek the title is.
What is most charming about the compilation is that there are no “heavy-hitters” in the mix; no one artist that is going to be the draw, surrounded by throw-aways. Instead, all the bands featured are undeniably local, and it’s hard to imagine any non-locals knowing more than two acts on the tracklist. Even with the variety, the album flows very well and is seemingly intentionally constructed: Oceans’ slow burning “02+03” feels appropriately like an opening track, while Paul Fiocco’s deeply atmospheric (and thirteen-minute) “Torsions and Drifts” is wisely left until the end. Elsewhere, Transmission’s feedback squeals segue into Panoptique Electrical’s gorgeous high-pitched hums.
As with any mix, however, high and low points are inevitable. Ghoul’s “Swimming Pool (Remix)” is an early highlight, chopping and reserving a vocal sample against an infectiously melodic keyboard motif. No Art’s album-exclusive “Fight in the Nocturnal House” provides one of the few tracks with live vocals, and despite all the freeform drum machine/guitar interplay, there is a legitimately memorable chorus. Elsewhere, Cock Safari’s unique blend of aboriginal chants and harmonies with noise and electronics is definitely new, weird, and Australian, and William Gardiner’s xylophone workout feels fittingly exotic.
Unfortunately, there are a few places where New Weird Australia missteps as a cohesive record of its local experimental scene. “Hometime” from Mieli won’t sound new or weird to any casual electronic music fan, with a simple (though admittedly catchy) 8-bit sounding melody and all matter of processed blip-and-beep percussion. Likewise, Lucia Draft’s brief lullaby interlude is entirely serviceable but unremarkable. Splendid Friends could have had a extravagant, tribal-flavored meditation akin to the previously mentioned Cock Safari had they given it the space to take off, but clocking in at under two minutes, the song feels underdeveloped, as if it is only an excerpt from something much grander.
New Weird Australia, Volume 2 is nevertheless a thrilling document of an underrepresented music scene. It succeeds in providing an internationally-available showcase of local talent, much of which is sure to grab the attention of listeners in other hemispheres. And by providing the whole seventy-minute compilation for free, there really is no reason for any curious avant-garde aficionado to pass this one up.
-Calvin Young