GILGONGO RECORDS

(click here to return to discography).

BRI WHITE / JAMES FELLA - split 7" (GGGR-017).
pressing on 1000 on various shades of blue with occasional swirls of white.
some are translucent, some opaque, some in between, there are not specific "versions" at all.

BRI WHITE / JAMES FELLA
Split 7" from two busy-bodies from Arizona. BRI WHITE (Flux Conquistador, Foot Ox), who usually creates pretty piano based singer-songwriter music, offers a six minute piece which is both beautiful and haunting (primarily using a weird piano / violin hybrid instrument called a pianolin, which is obscure enough to not even have an article on wikidpedia about it), and falls somewhere between the blurry lines of Spires That in the Sunset Rise and White Magic. (She is currently up in Portland)! JAMES FELLA (Soft Shoulder, Tent/City) offers layers of clarinet, guitar, vocal-based sound and noise in a piece that is much more calm and quiet than the majority of his usual sound / noise / splice work. Full color covers enveloping thick blue (w/ splashes of white) vinyl.

REVIEWS.
(Foxy Digitalis / digitalisindustries.com).
Awww, isn’t that cute, a 7” testament of love. From what I gather reading James’ blog and the inserts to this record, Bri and James are girlfriend/boyfriend and members of Tempe,AZ collective Tent City, but Bri had to move to Portland and they really miss each other. They decide to begin mail collaborations and splits. I’d expect nothing else from the DIY Pro, James (except maybe a Xeroxed zine of love poems). Bri’s side features a mysterious instrument called the pianolin, what I presume to be some sort of a piano + violin contraption. It sounds like that; at times totally beautiful and at others totally cacophonous; like a one girl interpretation of outsider cuties, Belly Boat. James’ side starts off with glorious bursts of radiant clarinet. The initial notes are looped as more and more is added over it. The sounds make me imagine the sun rising over a hillside as the coyotes nap. As that fades, a guitar gently comes into the mix, played over what really sounds like coyote samples, but I think it is James’ light voice. Crackling tapes come into play, creating what sounds like a cleaner version of early Shepherds recordings or maybe just a lonely Tent Citizen.

(Boomkat listing).
This lovely little blue 7" is a total oddity to me, appearing in my weekly pile of releases like a mischievous spirit. The first side appears to be inhabited by Bri White, who picks and fumbles her way through an expansive collection of instruments, occasionally blessing us with her gorgeous vocals. Comparisons could be made to the blissful outsider spiritualism of Jandek, but this is maybe a little more trained. James Fella greets us on side B and this is a different beast altogether, some kind of woodwind-led ambience gradually building into the sort of guitar distortion you'd expect on a Fennesz record. Very lovely stuff anyway and gorgeously packaged.

(Norman listing).
Here's Bri White and James Fella Split 7" on Gilgongo. First up on a ... ready... a "Pianolin" which is a cross between to a piano and violin. Its a crazy sound with the instrumentation behind her soft child like vocals spitting and wobbling like a piano falling down a spiral staircase on the moon with no immediate gravity. Honky enough to be cool I think. On the B-side James Fella has gone clarinet crazy with many of the black liquorices sticks dueting in a random and hypnotic nature. Sounds like the dawn call of some strange African big billed bird. Ends with some radio detunement. All in all this is a right journey of a 7" and I've thoughly enjoyed the adventure. Thank you both for talking me.

(Dusted / dustedmagazine.com).
Two artists who are in love, it would seem, and traversing the perils of a long-distance relationship, put out this statement of romantic intent on blue marbled vinyl, with detailed inserts talking about how bad the world is but they've got each other so you can't really criticize them. Bri's side is kind of tough to navigate, though, a first-time attempt with a pianolin and vocals that seem to go out of orbit from the music almost instantly, the kind of fragile folk that's both embraced and embarrassing. James Fells delivers a pretty incredible piece with a name I don't feel comfortable typing out. But it's a nice one, with clarinet and multi-tracked vocals droning behind some minor-chord acoustic guitar wander and radio static. Pretty stuff with nice, somber, safe ideas. Zine culture squeezes its zit all over again.