|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
REVIEW OF THE SHOW AT RED7, 2008: I polished off my Lone Star and pushed myself through to the inside bar where Glorium was prepping the crowd with their pre-show sound check. The show starts, and I was instantly reminded why these guys were the kings of the Texas art-noise scene in the mid-nineties. As a kid, I would have to step out of Stafford Opera House because they were just too damn loud! This Glorium, however played with the patience of true veterans. Gone are the bombastic freak-outs, which often times included a microphone shoved in mouth, as far back as the larynx and a scream that would stop a locomotive. This almost seems like a new band that just happens to be the same players. What has replaced that style was true understanding of not only what they were doing, but also how they wanted to pull it off. It was magnificent watching Glorium and the tension reminded me of a balance act between the old and the new. I kept waiting for the freak-outs…hell, the whole crowd did. What Glorium has managed to pull off is a tense waiting game that crescendos towards absolute breakdown – without the dramatic clatter of all out assault. They successfully leave you yearning for the freak-out, the breakdown, like you’re on the edge of your seat the entire time, waiting to be pushed over the edge. To create such a controlled view of tension is truly a sight I’m thankful I witnessed again. Read entire article here>>>
|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Peek-A-Boo Records, 2005 Glorium "Fantasmas" CD (Golden Hour Records) $15.00 This fantastic CD collects all of Glorium's early singles and unreleased gems. Usually, out-take compilations are for die-hard fans only, but in this case it's an excellent place to start. These are truly some of the band's best and most accessible songs. Those who were around in Glorium's prime remember what an amazing live band they were (and still are, though they're geographically dispersed and rarely play). The music is difficult to describe ó arthouse clang? avant prog-punk? noise-pop? abstract? psychedelic? mysterious? abrasive? literate, ominous, psychological punk? Whatever. Years later, this music is still fresh and important. Limited pressing of 200 copies, 18 songs. |
||||||||
CHRONICLE:
DECEMBER 3, 2004: MUSIC: TCB by Christopher Gray
CHRONICLE: NOV. 20 2004: GREG BEETS Of all the bands to emerge from Austin’s punk rock muck of the Cavity Club in the early Nineties, none encapsulated the good-natured, boundary-breaking spirit of freewheeling exploration better than Glorium. Whether it’s the jagged mood swings of 1994’s Cinema Peligrosa (Undone) or the somnolent wooze of 1997’s Eclipse (Golden Hour), Glorium was always hungry for metamorphosis.
In addition to setting a high musical standard, countless bands benefited from Glorium’s well-honed scene collectivism, including Trail of Dead and the Prima Donnas. Although Glorium went on hiatus in 1997 after six prolific years, the San Antonio-bred school chums kept in touch and subsequently laid waste to Emo’s at their 2001 reunion gig with Trail of Dead.
SAN ANTONIO EXPRESS NEWS: 11.26.04, JIM BEAL, JR. Part of the beauty of the San Antonio music scene is that while bands come and go, form and break up, just as they do in almost every locale, there are bands in this town that come together and never break up.Take Glorium, for instance. The post-punk quintet was formed in S.A. in 1992. Like any local band worth its salt, Glorium cut its teeth playing its first show at Taco Land. Though it relocated to Austin in '93, Glorium remained, and remains, a San Antonio band. Glorium toured like crazy, working its own headlining shows as well as touring with the likes of Fugazi, At the Drive-In and others. Glorium released four albums, a couple of EPs and some singles. Though band members are scattered from S.A. to New York, Glorium has never disbanded. Singer Paul Vodas and guitarist Lino Max (brothers Paul and Linus Streckfus) are based in New York City; bassist Jorge Lara is finishing a doctorate at the University of Texas; guitarist Ernest Salaz works with I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness; and drummer Juan Miguel Ramos is in Sexto Sol. Tonight at the Sanctuary, Glorium will celebrate the release of a new CD, "Fantasmas," with support from Fin del Mar and Blasteroid. Show time is scheduled for 9: 30 p.m. On Saturday, the show moves to Emo's in Austin. Longtime Glorium fans are going to love "Fantasmas." Newcomers are going to get a dose of music that documents the history of a working band. "Fantasmas"
is an 18-track collection of unreleased songs and songs that weren't included
on the band's full-length efforts. The material runs the gamut from the
group's first song to the last tracks recorded in 1997. Don't count out
new Glorium music somewhere down the line.
Glorium
See now, now I'm fucking with history. All over the past there have been scattered these landmines, just tossed off: of music, of life, of personal history, of the all-smeared-together-by-ashes-and-spilt-or-spit-Pearls, messy tabs, strewn stems in the carpet, and the quotidian banality of this here mess of myself that I have been able to shy and hide from in this music scribbling that I do, to just avoid altogether, like exes from Texas or like knotholes in bathroom walls, like Chaindrive, purely strangers I am dealing with on an anonymous relationship. These packages just arrive in the mail, these glossy 8x10s or press releases folded and lovingly typed so that I may disregard them to the laughing trash or else snub in a public place, ever should we meet. And the music, oh, don't even get me started with those sorts of morning-after or love-hangover tales. I know how the bass was thumping last night through the PA and mess of clattering bottles emptied and splashed out, wasted, but today, well, how do I explain the difference? Do I want to know them? That is a question long withheld, all through the past. Do I hold back? A grudge, or even a caress, what am I holding here, if not a piece of my own history? And how do I pull apart at such sticky layers of self, such truths as I have come to know them over the years, truths not dropped in on lately, not even an email or postcard or a hit on the website of m'life, not even visiting come X'Kwanzaa time, when I am actually in the state of Tejas, and could really catch up with these people, these portions of my past. Hey man, what you been up to, so hollow, the early mid-90's were such a crazy time, right? RIGHT!? No really, it's not like I am embarrassed, I just don't always have time, y'know, the relatives, the fam, yes, I know you are my brother, right thicker than, twins split and glinting now in differing skins, shiny surfaces, reflecting each unto the...well, I'll call you next time I'm in town. Although I despise this place, this misplaced home. I just don't want to go back, can't go back. I tried that and tired, what a waste of plane fare and airport shoe removal time that was. Like my punk-rock godfather once screamed into my ear, his beard scratching at my neck and throat: "I wanna kill the past, before it kills me." Or was it instead something about going home? So I was stirred from the backseat of Kat's truck, "Come on, Glorium is going on right now." It had been a long, hard-fought day of punk-rock dodgeball, and the music was still going. I had drifted through the crunches of chords and a cover of "Time After Time" to the warmth of the cluttered bench seat under the chill of Texas' stars. And this was the start of it all. Waking. Well, no one will ever take away the start of the start of it, which would have to be laying on Cole Man's floor, age 15, listening to him high-speed dubbing Nevermind , chirping and laughing along with the damned thing that would both ruin and save my life. They're English or something, right? "Here we ah now, entuh tain uhs." But this was so close to the initial explosion that as the stars try to look back unto and chart the thing, the uncles and cousins of this, there will be this gob of white light at the center, bursting out, and there... But it was a green light, and the shadows splattered jaggedly along the walls were both dragon-green and a ghostly black, the light reversed. The singer had made the mic and dangling cord into some skeletal drip of vampire wings, scattered now over the entire stage with its wirey shadows, to say nothing of his thin frame writhing and stuttering fires. And that noise. Rupturing form both sides of my dreaming brain, from the players all rendered to schizophrenic and ever-shattering shadows, shaman grips at the necks, the roaring was creating these figures, playing both the cave and the light too. I was there, fractured, fucked, and yet, there was that spurting as the pineal was raked bare and clean, over and over, clawing at the tomb that every minute brings. How can you forget that sound of the seconds divebombing past? How, but to be awake! Huh, what? We were zonked. The red curls of the bowl had twirled between us and Terry Brown thrice, and he had even wobbled up tall and spun us glorious tales of Tacoland as well as choice objects out of his spinning top collection. My head was reeling, rubbing it alive, the eyes red. This one that would spin and then flip to its head and peak was tops. I know how it felt, fersure. Upside down, butter side down. Terry walked towards the stereo and unsheathed this clear piece of vinyl in a xerox-riddled moonscape. The first Glorium single, "Divebomb"/ "Chemical Angel". Scorching, byzantine buzzing and howling over three minutes of space over San Antonio. They arose out of San Antonio too. These were our people. We could know these people. And if they could make a record, then it follows... "Divebomb" was the first in such a vaccuum as Texas, the first single of our scene. Not Trance Syndicate, not skater, not sludge, a very singular sound. Holy to us. Like someone would mutter once, it's like Pere Ubu. Well, the apocalyptic eyes and how they are staring, laughing at death like Laughner, yes, through the melting of the windshield and that hot wind, yes, but... and then, right as I'm sitting on the subway, scratching about this fucking past of mine, I see one of the Owen boys, which one I can never tell, but these were the guys that helped ruin my life up until this point. Their Buddy System imprint released the first El Santo record. Right here on the subway. I must continue on with this. We listened to Glorium's Cinema Pelagrosa LP literally hundreds of times, from the day it was birthed and blurted out, at least every day, although it became more like prayer rug visitation, facing east, mumbling drowsily at the encryption and patterns it surely had buried in its lean girth. Argued to be uneven, to us it exactly mirrored our mindset at the time. We lived a paranoid fantastia of rock hopelessness, a life forced through such weak channels for scraps of that one true feeling, of belonging, beloved-longing, of dive bars, and cheap blown living room speakers, bass fluttering about like sparrows for crumbs. The sonics of every song fluctuated, schizophrenic, sometimes over heavy on the bass, at other times the high end was muddied. All these wasted nights at either Tacoland, the Cavity, Emo's, the Winner's Circle, with the PAs wrecked, audience wretched drunk, twisted ugly from such living after midnight. The voices could be low in the mix, or the drums like wet cardboard; all the blemishes were present on the record. Every distorted permutation of their "shiny rock beast" sound was laid bare on each track. And Vodas, all the surpressed black heart murmurs of us were gurgling like glass through his throat. All the bile was spilled for murder, pig hatred, soldiers soulless, the fucked up lives of our friends, fucked, insects scribbling in the intestines and interstates of such a passed-out corpus of our country, our drunken selves, looking for a freak to kiss or caress, even if only a corpse looking for a place to crash, with the splashes of liquor vomit and blood, wanting the blood of those bastards spilled, and these new patterns to come alive again, out through his mouth every night. We needed something to smash, a floor to sleep on, a comfort away from the electric eyes and ear tricks that prevailed upon us. Maybe we listened to it too much during our acid tests. But the devil was by our side back then, and we knew we would make it through the fires. This was supposed to follow next, I guess, or was it Espionage in Arthropodia instead. Either way, these recordings given to Lungfish in early '95. And I cannot say what the fuck happened over the next seven years, nor can I say who might even give a fuck about this by this point in time. I mean, they only made 50 copies of their last CD, so why would anyone, like you the reader, if still here, give a shit about this? Well, I do, as it is my history, part of my blood and brain squish, and being in denial about certain factions of it, perhaps, but why not absorb that life of another? Like Mutant Lovers... There is plenty of sound blood for suckling here, vamps. The git chimes and bass bounds in "Cyclops/ Thick Slice," perhaps not my favorite of classic Glorium tracks, but it is rendered here in a way near urgent and cuurent by this point in time. Not always the greatest of the G's strengths, the recording strategy was 'splained to me once by a Golden Hour correspondent as so: "While other bands would focus their sound during the recording process, 'the Stretch Foot' bros (their very name itself was yet a nickname for Death hisself) would reverse that funnel, the ideas growing more broad and vague, more obdurate. Obviously, this pissed off the engineers to no end." So while on the previous singles, chronologically (oh, and while I'm at it, just spilling the past with no disregard, fuck Roger Unclean for eternity for the B/W cover damnation on that Glorium/El Santo split), there were such things as backward and handheld tapes, pages being licked and flipped, as well as the infamous spilled OJ on the goddamned masters, here the sound is very much burning with passion and curiously straight ahead. And we know how wobbly it can get with only one eye, chugging along, the machines glistening tight. How did they make it all cohere so long ago? And why didn't it stick and grow after all those years? (Why haven't I said something about Jorge J. Lara? Well, he wasn't even at the radio station that day, when they played the newies off of Eclipse , as well as their favorite songs, like Neu! And Throbbing Gristle. But they also played the Ohio Players' "Fire," and as that tape would roll over and over again in the white station wagon ride, we would laugh, at here it comes, when his voice goes tahten up ma stroke, Yeeeyuh! But he was never there! We had been so certain it was his choice, and yet he had had a stand-in. At Los Amigos, the taco and chorizo nostalgia is such that I blubber for forgiveness for Jorge J., for not inviting myself to his wedding. Did I say "Kill the Past" earlier? I meant kill my Pastor!) And the Owens boy, which one, walks by yours truly yet again! This time hours later, on another line, heading home. What a gas if he knew what I was doing and why I was staring! And why is time cycling and squealing like the L's high-pitched brakes? The winner here is one of thee-all-timers for Glorium, "Future News from the Frontline." With a clock tap on the shoulders, sure, it starts, or is it just Juan's restraint and timed-tapping and the moment(ous) snare snaps? I can still imagine how his sticks should slice in the stilted air, never a drum throne either, just a box or folding chair, how his teeth should snarl and hit. All of it. And Gigante and Lino Max come to, lilting like titanium crow feathers, blacked and tightening to wings at the word "Transmit!" which turns the wires white with heat and burns a near "Axel F" riff beyond the imagined East Texas trenches and crevices of the void. Nothing is smoothed as much as it is just burned clean and charred to a black dust. While such blotter-fueled scorched ear(th) campaigns had adverse affects on many archival listens, I have found the music here to be gratefully loosed from time and undead. I mean, who would actually proclaim "Future News" seven years ago and yet have it actually decoded as relevant. Who would've known? No one from back then. Certainly not me. Copyright © 2002 Andy Beta CHRONICLE: RECOMMENDED
MUSIC: JULY 20 2001
CHRONICLE: REVIEWS:CLOSE YOUR EYES, 1998, Raoul Hernandez When your subconscious mind enters through the closet door of your dreams, its cat burglar grace never hides the footprints found in the morning. Close Your Eyes, Glorium's third CD, leads a trail back to the arms of Morpheus - a dream that probably meant nothing - but not before leaving some tantalizing visions. Like this stalwart Austin indie band's previous full-lengths, Cinema Peligrosa and Eclipse, the group's latest somnambulant disturbance envelopes strange, creepy melodies with cold, sharp riffs. Opening with four shoegazers that segue like a suite, the album nearly dozes off with the rather sophomoric whine of "Us + the Bad Past" and "Mnemonic Me" (Lino Max and Paul Vodas are usually good for better fare), but hits its dream cycle on the instrumental "The Spiral Moat," which starts as a tumble in the air lock, and ends in space station chapel where the "Moonbeam King" punches in with some electric shock. "Apeman at Sea" follows with some potent modern rock blast, and after two pointless instrumentals, "Hold Still" saves the best for last as an uneasy ballad. Close Your Eyes might not yield memorable dreams, but it will linger with you long after you wake. 2.5 Stars
|
||||||||
|
CHRONICLE: Dragon and the Tiger -July 11, 1997, Christopher Gray Welcome to the shadow world of Glorium, a band shrouded in enough mystery to give Raymond Chandler writer's cramp. The Austin quintet's discography is subtitled "Evidence of existence," and their public profile is generally so low that their assorted singles, EPs, full-lengths, and compilation tracks are about all the evidence there is; none of their liner notes even mention what instrument the members play. When the band surfaces, as it has sporadically since relocating from San Antonio in 1991, it's with some of the starkest, most challenging, literate hard rock Austin has seen this decade. Popping up on a compilation now and again (Live at Emo's, the Austin Live Houses cassette comp, Speed Records' Krispy Chronicles, and KVRX's extraordinary Cooking by Strobe Light), they've gone from weekly residencies at the late, great Cavity Club to member Paul Vodas' booking new band night (Tuesdays) at the Manor Road Coffee House. Though the Rock Hudsons, 100 Watt Clock, and others on Austin's avant A-list have played to increasing crowds there, Vodas is ready to step down, saying he just wanted to get things going. Even the band's label, Golden Hour, which has put out cassette releases by ...And You Willl Know Us by the Trail of Dead, Prima Donnas, Andromeda Strain, Brownie Points, Antarctica, and others, operates out of the group's love of music and the local scene, not because they're trying to draw attention to themselves. Nevertheless, Glorium emerged from the shadows briefly last month with Eclipse, their maiden release on Golden Hour and first CD since 1994's Cinema Peligrosa (a nine-song tape, Sound Recordings From the Front Room, came out in 1995). Now, they're gone just as soon as they came; Jorge J. Lara is already back in San Antonio, where he still lives, and Ernest Salaz is in Washington D.C. attending school. But Vodas and Lino Max, who sing, play guitar, write lyrics, essays, and sometimes finish each other's sentences, are sitting around, picking at raw fish and rice at the Banzai sushi restaurant on the Drag adjacent to Quack's, which features a tasty bowl of shrimp teriyaki for only $5 at lunchtime. Smiling, soft-spoken drummer Juan Miguel Ramos joins us shortly, and we talk about the history of Glorium, which Vodas presents as such: "We came up here just to work on the band. So you know, end of story." Contemplative and serene on Eclipse, the band has been known to be harsh, threatening, and ominous, as on Cinema Peligrosa, or back-alley raw like on Past Lives, a collection of early Glorium songs just issued on EV Records (vinyl only, available at Sound Exchange and 33 Degrees). More specifically, the band says the two sides of Past Lives , recorded separately, are the songs they were playing when they moved up from S.A., the ones they shopped to crowds at Steamboat and the Back Room. Their intense, psychological punk never caught on with people whose idea of musical exploration is a 20-minute-long "Freebird" instead of the 12-minute version. Things went better at the Cavity, Blue Flamingo, and the then-nascent Emo's, where Ed Hall, Gut, Crust, and johnboy played Freddy Krueger with audiences' eardrums, constructing exhaustively jagged, musically complex brain-twisters that made Henry Rollins seem like Deepak Chopra. Lyrically, musically, and emotionally turbulent, Cinema Peligrosa came out of this time, a dense, blood-red picture of psyches clashing among jagged, woozy guitars, arrhythmic time changes, rubbery bass, and spring-loaded lyrics.
"If you look at the [theater] door it says, `Adults only,'" says Max. "Cinema is a very violent record, a very chaotic record. I think part of it is about entering this adult world. Look how violent and chaotic that can be. I say `Adult World,' I mean this world where you're on your own, where you have to make your own thing, and some of the choices involved in that." On the new album, Eclipse, the intensity remains; the sound is tough, but also reflective and open-ended. The songs beckon without pummeling, and the most important sound is just as likely to be a ringing silence as a rumbling guitar tsunami. At the core of the lyrics is a kind of self-reliance that isn't passive but rather assured. "Now, we don't have all that chaos in our lives," Vodas says. "We're more in control of what we're doing. We have more of an artistic hand on our art. We're more focused, so the music's gonna be more focused. Whenever I see a band that gets up there and they're over-the-top, aggro for 45 minutes or something, I'm not impressed at all. I would rather see someone up there who could show a variety of emotions instead of just one." Liner notes by Vodas say the album speaks of "lights, shadows, myth, the power of the mind"; Eclipse radiates inner strength and power. Cinema is a dark and feverish work of rock poetry, an important transition for Glorium, but obviously not their final destination. Neither, one suspects, is Eclipse. Yes, Glorium is much more at peace -- centered, if you will. Though they won't call it maturity, "growing up," or a sign of "adulthood," they will admit to crossing a threshold. "I think tastes within the band changed," Ramos says. "We started to be less and less into such aggro songs, and more and more into songs that had a little more room and space. Also, part of it was where we started practicing. We had to play quieter in the practice space. Maybe we just got used to that, and started coming up with songs that didn't have to be so loud." This time, the album's cover features an illustration of an astronaut marooned on some faraway, desolate planet, his only companion a winged, demon-looking thing on the other side of the distorted sphere, casting a cross-shaped shadow in the earthling's direction. The demon occasionally rears its head on Eclipse, as on Cinema where the players sometimes seemed at the mercy of the music, but here it's the band that's most often in control. One song, "Dragon-Tiger Fight," ends with both dragon and tiger dead. The source of the tune is Kenpo karate iconography; the dragon represents inner, mental strength, while the tiger symbolizes outer, physical power. Glorium's great quest seems to be uniting the two. In this light, the band -- still together where their early contemporaries (save for Stretford and Gomez) aren't -- say it's fine that they don't play out live much anymore. "I think one of the reasons we've stayed together is that for us, making music has always been more of an artistic process," says Max. "It's really important to everyone in the band. So making music and being in a band is just kind of something that we continually do. It's not like we're doing it to become this big thing." For one thing, they can't -- at least not until they're all in the same city again. Another thing is the spate of local bands that echo Glorium. Some of them, like 7% Solution and Enduro, are fellow Cooking by Strobe Light alumni. Nobody who's seen a Wookie, Trail of Dead, or Goin' Along Feelin' Just Fines set would deny that at least some parallels exist. So, the elusive band, who say their most current recording is the Golden Hour 7-inch "Black Market Hearts/Walkie Talkie" (see "7 & 7 Is" ) is happy in the studio, recording a couple of tracks here and mailing the tape to Ernest for him to lay down his part. Come September, they'll release another full-length, Close Your Eyes, recorded with Grant Barger of the Softs, a veteran of studio time with the equally poker-faced, intense, and self-reflective Palace, the For Carnation, and Windsor for the Derby. To the members of Glorium themselves, and maybe them alone, the band's longevity is no great mystery. "I never wonder why we're still together," Vodas says. "I don't think anybody's wondering about that. We're true to it. This is what we do. We make music, we're artistic, and it's just our thing. People don't know what to make of us. They're like, `Well, they're not really this, but they're not really that.'" "I like that about our group," says Max. "It makes us like a puzzle, almost like a monster -- the monsters in Greek mythology who had all these different parts. We're like this riddle or this puzzle. To listen to one of our records might be to combat one of these mythological monsters in your dreams." RD
CHRONICLE MAY 9 1997, GREG BEETS As longtime standard-bearers of Austin's avant-punk fringe, Glorium has continuously challenged and reinvented its sound at an awe-provoking rate. Their new CD, Eclipse, strikes hints of Sonic Youth, the Velvets, and Fugazi by skillfully contrasting disparate elements of all three across a mighty expansive canvas. Though their free-form tendencies may seem exotic in the ears of 1-2-3-4 purists, Glorium's invitation to musical adventure is ultimately much too tempting to resist. Toof and Fire Island open. "Glorium: Arthouse clang " - --Tim Stegall |
||||||||
|
Emo's, July 3 Glorium's bass was provided by a keyboard, and the singer's passion had a distinct New Romantic flair. Even so, the visions of my new-wave past were unjustified. Glorium know their way around a great noisy pop song, whether it lies in the magnetic chorus of "Ghostwriter," the wall of noise in "Vaccine," or "Black Market Hearts," a blend of technopop, 6/8-time clamor, deep groove, and trumpet. A song like "The Double" reminds one just how magnificent the Pixies were. - --Ken Hunt |
||||||||
|
CHRONICLE: THE BIG BANG, JULY 11, 1997, GREG BEETS ...Emboldened by
the prospect of a club that catered to the more abrasive, freakish, and
experimental elements, a cadre of new bands adopted
the Cavity as their safe harbor and used that freedom as a
springboard to develop a singular, highly stylized take on punk rock that
went way beyond two chords and an attitude. This non-traditional approach
to punk -- best exemplified by Cavity grads such as Glorium, Gut, Crown
Roast (then known as Rig), and the American
Psycho Band -- would eventually be stuck with the dubious but
vaguely accurate label of "prog-punk." |
||||||||
|
CHRONICLE: REVIEWS: ECLIPSE, JULY 11, 1997, GREG BEETS Like the late night
warble of a distant radio station slowly fading away, Eclipse takes us
deeper into the dark and mysterious elements that make Glorium the aural
equivalent of REM sleep. The music and narrative flow gently from place
to place, but the band's high angular pastiche frees the listener to paint
his or her own conclusions with regard to meaning. This isn't altogether
new for Glorium, but the slam-bang quick change properties of their earlier
work tended to emphasize abrasion over intimacy. "Co-Pilot, Keep Me Awake"
has a soft, psychedelic pop sheen that evokes the strangely pleasurable
creepiness of Lou Reed and Mo
Tucker dueting on "The
Murder Mystery" along with the unsettling quirkiness of the Red
Krayola. The eight-minute "Room on the Floor" brings
out a Teutonic interplay between the dueling guitars of Lino Max and Jorge
J. Lara that creates a perfect mechanical backdrop for Paul Vodas' alternately
dry and floral vocals. Although they spend a lot of time in abstract symbolism,
Eclipse captures an odd, woozy clarity that transports Glorium to yet
another dimension in their feverish quest for constant reinvention.
3.5 stars |
||||||||
|
Glorium all always a welcome handful and no ore so than on their new Golden Hour 7-inch, whose A-side, "Black Market Hearts," sounds like one of John Carpenter's electro New Wave scores in which the vocal lurks about menacingly, leaping out occasionally, knife in hand. The B-side, "Walkie-Talkie," takes a throbbing narpolectic bassline, injects a lead line of adrenaline, and stands back while the singer gets Cure-d.
PHANTOM WIRE TRANSMISSIONS
EP, 1994, INDIE DIGEST |
||||||||
|
PHANTOM WIRE TRANSMISSIONS EP, 1994 On this, their third or fourth appearance on a 7", Glorium continues to challenge the listener to figure out just what these guys are all about. The three songs, "Matches For the Fuse", "My Demolition", and "Electricity", interface dissonant dual-guitar work reminiscent of Sonic Youth with skillfully manipulated, disembodied vocals over a tight, supple rythm section, all accompanied by a lavish, multi-page booklet. One is hard-pressed to pin these guys down (thankfully) - post pun, cyber-core... they just don't let themselves get bogged down by cliches or easy categorization. This is very unique music, and sure to demand repeated listenings. "Electricity" was my favorite, but each song has its own particular quirks and I'm sure everyone will have thier own interpretations. Another dagger in the heart of the infamous Austin music-scene "singer-songwriter / blues rock" cliche. - anon |
||||||||
|
CINEMA PELIGROSA LP, 1994 Glorium is one of those bands that is impossible to pigeonhole. Sure, their influences are clear: punk rock, New York noise, Jane's Addiction. But Glorium has taken strands of all these and more and mutated them into one glorious, noisy creature. Cinema Peligrosa is the first full-length release from Christian Caperton's local label, Undone Records, as well as Glorium's first album. So Glorium has decided to record a concept album, in which different songs represent different voices. An interesting, if unoriginal idea, but Glorium makes it work. With characters like The Assassin, The Leper and The Fossil, there's a lot of room for creativity. The accompanying music is somewhat discomforting and occasionally disturbing. The Misinformed vs. The Uniformed sets the tone right at the beginning. The song opens with raw, edgy guitars that shift into an off-key guitar riff. Vocalist Paul Vodas sounds like Jello Biafra, half-singing, half-talking about killing every cop in sight. One notable aspect of Cinema Peligrosa is the production quality. With most local releases, the sound quality reflects the low budget that the labels have. But Tim Kerr (of Jack O'Fire and Poison 13 fame) has done an excellent job with limited resources. The sound is still tinny and lo-fi, a Kerr trademark, but there is a fullness to the songs. The guitars and bass fill the record, at times dominating the vocalist. The best songs on Cinema Peligrosa are Mutant Lover Special, Having the Devil on Your Side, and Possession Weapon. These songs share a tight musical exploration, particularly on the guitar work of Lino Max, and Curtis Salaz. Mutant has three distinct parts playing together, with distorted vocals on top. Devil is fast and crunchy, showing some funk influences. The chorus is frantic, threatening to pull the song apart. But it stays intact, leading to Jack O'Fire's Walter Daniels adding his signature harp at the end. Weapon tries a variety of rhythms and tempos, with Jorge J. Lara's hard bass groove running things. This guitar exploration is also a short coming on Cinema. Several of the songs seem to lack unity or direction. The Fossil waits until the end to go anywhere, wasting a particularly unnerving guitar line. Death of the Insect Queen and Victim also wander too much at times, although Victim eventually pulls together into a spoken narrative punctuated by guitar bursts. Overall, though, Glorium has released an excellent album, one that reflects Austin in its musical amalgam and psychotic lyrics. One listen, and you'll want to hear it live. - John D. Lowe |
||||||||
|
CINEMA PELIGROSA LP Kafka-esque insects crawl through the pores in your skin and bathe in your chilly pools of sweat during Glorium's debut full-length album, Cinema Peligrosa. The Undone Records release is a fully visualized concept album that features a thematic cast of characters (lovers, assassin, leper, victim, etc.) that appear and disappear in the sublime, poetic lyrics. Wearing its Scratch Acid influence on its sleeve like a big scarlet S and A, Glorium's twisted musical microcosm is 100 percent disturbing. The rhythm section holds the sonics together in an improvisational - yet always tight - format, while the guitars explore the familiar territory of dissonant garage-punk noise. Dig deep into this album and you'll find The Final Dis and Matches For the Fuse. The Final Dis is glorium's four-track precision piece, and the latter onslaught is the best track from its Phantom Wire Transmissions EP. Free your mind, put on some headphones, close your eyes and decide for yourself if this album doesn't scare you in the most beautiful way. - Marc Fort, American Statesman. 1.05.95 |
||||||||
|
CINEMA PELIGROSA LP Glorium is from Texas, and with lyrics like "I'll never get done, I'll never through, until the last dead cop is glue"... no one can say that Glorium is not intense. Rocks, garbage cans, guns, glass, double sided razors are all used with good imagery to "cut people open, ear to ear, chin to toes, and reach in to the heart cavity and give that juicy muscle a squeeze". Guitars bass and hum is much like the split single with Gut was. Some of this is frenetic as the lyrics, while others, like "Matches for the Fuse" are more structured sounding. It is a Glorium Rock Opera/Movie Soundtrack, involving authority, victims, and what to do about it. It isn't a happy picture. - Hairy Kari, KFJC new album review (June 28, 1995) |
||||||||
|
CINEMA PELIGROSA LP Not the newest release I'm reviewing, but since it got no distribution for most of its existence, I think it's still current enough. Old punk rock, with a definite Gang of Four/Membranes feel. Lots of subtlety in the playing, really strong and powerful songs. The vocals are a bit over the top for my taste, but as a whole, it works well. Again not for all tastes, but one of the better punk records I've heard of late. There's apparently a recent cassette release that's being pressed to 10" soon, and a new LP is in the works too. - Steve, Indie List Digest 11-95 |
||||||||
|
CINEMA PELIGROSA LP Glorium blends the dark and moody with the stinging and spastic, creating some very rich images. Their music reminds me of Kafka stories and twisted art films. It's tortured then nursed, back and forth, rinsed clean and beaten. These songs seem to run through some intense durability test each time. What's visible here is the compexity and texture within their music. Their music is not just thrown together, it's constructed. Each song composed, under intense scrutiny, at times leaning towards art, at times just fully rocking. The lyrics seem to come from nowhere, but a nowhere that is familiar. Paul Vodas' vocals work well with the music. His style and presence is unlike anybody I've ever seen. They've created a very personal stlye, one that will surely lead to great things. - Andy Robbins, Pop Culture Press |
||||||||
|
CINEMA PELIGROSA LP If you can, catch Austin's Glorium at 9. I'm a bit shaken from a precursory listen to their '94 disc Cinema Peligrosa--it's as if the literate, arty political noise of D.C.'s Nation of Ulysses spawn were transplanted to the Tex-Mex multi-ethnic punk underground - City Pages, Minneapolis,July 24, 1996 |
||||||||
|
Live - Columbus OH 1994 We did, however, catch a band called Glorium at someone's house in Columbus last Friday night. We stood on the porch (and sweated) while the band played inside (and sweated). The music was a bit too crunchy & third-generation SYish for my tastes, but it was all competent and enthusiastic. I wouldn't skip 'em if they were someone's opening act. They have a 7", "Phantom Wire Transmissions" on Undone Records, PO Box 4012, Austin TX 78765, that includes a collage-style comic book. - 6-94. Indie List Digest |
||||||||
|
Live - Austin TX 1994 Glorium--They were ok...I wasn't all that impressed with them...I kept feeling that they wanted to be Big Black and were failing miserably...They were minimal-sounding but not tight and they always seemed to reach this very vague plateau of sound that they could have pushed much further, but didn't in their attempt to be minimal. Walter Daniels joined to play harp on one number and despite his talented harp playing, he couldn't bring this band out of their mediocre stupor. They have a cd out on the UnDone label. - Indie List Digest 10-94 |
||||||||
|
Live - Austin TX 1994 The influence of the Nation of Ulysses on Carbomb and Glorium can be seen through their strong base of experimentation, powerful lyrics and sense of style in music and attitude. Both bands had amazing stage presence and successfully mesmerized the crowd. - April Wood |
||||||||
|
Live - Austin TX 1994 Glorium got up and basically blew my shit away. I've admired their recorded material for some time now, but this was the first time I'd actually gotten to see them, and despite a number of technical problems, they seeemd to experience, they fucking ROCKED. They really had the ambience of a seasoned touring band, and again, even though it probably wasn't their best show I thought they were pretty darn mind-bending. They're a lot more dissonant than say, Fugazi, to whom they've most often been compared, and I like the 'weird' edge the two guitarists and the vocalist put on their suple, wiry post-punk arrangements. Great live band. - anon |
||||||||
|
ICED THE SWELLING/FEARLESS, 1993 "Iced the Swelling" moves musically and lyrically like the most crazed of rants Ð starting quietly and then exploding with chunky squares of guitar and worried vocals. Peters out in a fit of delusion and then regains its composure and comes back spitting. A song like a cornered ra(n)t. "Fearless" expands Glorium's dynamic tension passing violently mood-swinging guitars and drums over a placidly ostinato piccolo -bassline. These guys're good. - Patrick Barber |
||||||||
|
ICED THE SWELLING/FEARLESS,
1993 Austin's Glorium is by turns pounding and twitchy on its second single. "Iced the Swelling" sounds like a more emphatic Nation of Ulysses, the vocalist mumbling disconsolately, the guitars scuttling like trebly crabs and then driving down chords like they were hurling iron spires, the rythm section jerking furiously up and down all the while. The bass and drums also keep "Fearless" leaping all over the place, as the song scratches itself red and raw and then bursts out in a tormented yell at the world. - Deborah Orr, CMJ |
||||||||
|
DIVE-BOMB/CHEMICAL ANGEL, 1992 This is great. Very "mature" sounding debut from a Texas band that remind me quite a lot of Rocket From the Tombs in a non-obvious way. Excellent basement-production, hot Laughner-style guitar leads and quite a monolith of a hook there on the A-side. Give us more please. This was released in a way too tiny a pressing, but I bet that the fine folks at EV could be talked into repressing this quite easily. - Johan Kugelberg, Your Flesh magazine |
||||||||
Aggressive yet mellow. Mellow but exciting. Some of the coolest off-beat lyrics paired with a nice thick guitar sound and good rythms. Why do I get the feeling these guys do a lot of drugs? |
||||||||
The vocal delivery
ranges from barely coherent muttering to spat-out invective to almost
playful taunting, never relinquishing control to the hellacious noise
going on behind it, but never fully gaining it either. Other parts of
the album are so sedate and tranquil that the sounds could have been piped
over from a dentist's office. What's amazing is that for all the disparate
directions Cinema threatens, it's truly cohesive in expressing
a mood, even if that mood just happens to be total chaos. The recording
of Cinema was very tense, agrees the band, and is well reflected
in the album's aggressive tone and timbre. They shot the cover photo down
at Cinema West, and the image of a guy looking into a movie theatre remains
symbolic to Glorium.
