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Caedmon, the Scottish folk band responsible for one of my all time favorite folk rock records, has been born again. While I remain skeptical of any new recordings (as always in these situations), the very least we can hope for with this reawakening will be an official, widely available reissue of their lone self-titled album. Caedmon was released in 1978, more than half a decade after the first wave of British folk-rock broke, and clearly shows the influence of the Fairport Convention, Pentangle, and Steeleye Span’s modern interpretations of traditional folk songs from the British Isles.

There’s something that sets it apart though. An eclectic mix of sounds, the album has a charming everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach- acoustic instrumentation mixes with cello, organ, fuzz guitar, primitive percussion, and more. The analog recording adds a warmness and intimacy (which may or may not be emphasized by the source of the bootleg LP copy I own). The vocals of Angela Naylor weave amongs the mellower passages, blending with the voices of the other band members like some melancholic choir a-caroling. The song “Aslan” shines the brightest here, full of dueling guitar and cello leads it’s staccato rhythm propels it at a pace where it seems the band might fall off the tracks. Truly the most compelling of their arrangements, the intricate counter-melodies and arresting interplay in between the members found here create an a haunting urgency.

A new official website contains quite a bit of info on Caedmon form the members themselves, which may be a the first for a one-off private press cult band. The smashing of an original of their much sought, $500+ album shows they are not too interested in reliving/living off of the past, so perhaps the spirit lingers.

Elsewhere, an interview with the Melvins courtesy of Joe Preston, published in his zine “Matt Lukin’s Legs” from the late 80’s. Happy 50th, Jello. Musicogenic Epilepsy: seizing to Sean Paul. Not quite as serious, obsessive compulsive media libray cataloging.

Some photography: Cinerama, a photoset. Alexey Titarenko’s City of Shadows captures kinetic energy as ghostly shadows. More haunting images from Martina Hoogland Ivanow. Portraits of people and pouring, Meg Wachter’s Dumped!. WhereWeDoWhatWeDo collects photos of workspaces. The mesmerizing peril of Mark Thiessen’s forest fire photography for National Geographic (via Shoot!).

Magcloud allows one to publish and distribute a magazine from a PDF file. Will there be a resurgence in zines thanks to the long tail?

Bullit, a theme for NetNewsWire. The Wrong House: The Architecture of Alfred Hitchcock, a book (via We Make Money Not Art). The fabulous Mystery on Fifth Avenue, a house as clues (as seen throughout the web but worth another link).

Alton Kelley passed away this week. Kelley’s work with Stanley Mouse and the Family Dog collective has become iconic of the Summer of Love. Their psychedelic blend of a hodgepodge of found visuals and intricate lettering graced the covers of albums by the Grateful Dead, the Steve Miller Band, and Journey as well as numerous posters and handbills.

More 1960’s counterculture, but conveyed through architecture: Drop City, Solux/Lama, the Prickley Mountain gang, etc.

Arresting retro noir and gloss photography from Alex Prager’s Big Valley exhibition. Her blending of Hitchcock peril and golden suburban sheen are currently being shown in the UK at the Michael Hoppen Gallery.

Other recent ogling: Wonderland, a magazine. Photo reps: New Blood Agency. The wooden scenes of Alison Elizabeth Taylor. The art of Graph drome.

Above: a video for Lau Nau’s “Painovoimaa” from her new album Nukkuu, which translates to “Sleeps”. Several years back I caught a Finnish folk caravan consisting of Lau Nau, Islaja, Kuupuu, Pekko Käppi, and Tomutonttu among others leisurely performing in an open amphitheater at a Rhode Island state park. The drones and strings resonated while audience members and musicians mingled inside and out, walking through the trees and down by the shore. That afternoon long event made such an impression, that I have avoided seeing any of the acts since, worried that a performance in a stifling, darkened club or warehouse would tarnish the open air experience. The video visuals are apropos: Lau Nau weaves her melodies as a yarn trail through a forest, allowing dirt and leaves to cling to the threads of traditional folk hymns. Layers of voice and strings, warmed with hiss build up, but are carefully held in check. All the while, we are able to follow her wayward path as though if in a child’s subtly ominous fairy tale.

More Finnish sound: Paavoharju’s new Laulu Laakson Kukista album and Laulu laakson kukasta downloadable EP take the template of Lau Nau and Islaja, but wrap them in even more gauze to create abstract dreamlike snippets that also fade into smeared electronics and player piano ghost balladry. Hypnotic Scandinavia.

A transcript of The Wire interview with Terry Riley. A gallery of classical music album covers. Japanese anatomical charts via Morbid Anatomy. Organs of the color variety. Aspen: A long defunct pre-internet multimedia magazine in a box featuring, among others, Terry Riley.

American Abstract fiction instead: Harry Stephen Keeler, the Ed Wood of mystery novelists. Meet some of his characters: Criorcan Mulqueeny, Redwayne TerVyne, Screamo the Clown, Scientifico Greenlimb, Wolf Gladish, and State Attorney Foxhart Cubycheck.