Well, well, well, I appears you’ve been exceedingly sensible and made a foray into the Phonovault. Good. This, obviously, is a very wise move. Naturally, you can be guaranteed not to be disappointed. Here’s why…
As of this current phase in the hurtling passage of time, I’m on what you might refer to as an experimental trip. Then again, I’m usually listening to the weirdest sounds from all around, so you can reasonably assume that, if I’m calling it ‘experimental’, it’s probably more likely to be ‘brain-meltingly intense, psychically discombobulating bat-shit crazy’ instead.
On that note, prepare to be gloriously confused by today’s post, a celebration of all things Estradasphere. It must be noted, before I begin, that they were masters of absolutely everything. They are most likely best explained by the miniscule list of things they couldn’t do. Even I you have heard them before, they are still long overdue a spot of serious hero-worship
Free jazz, black metal, prog, rock, baroque, ethnic music of all nations, funk, smooth disco manoeuvres, swing, film-score epicness, gypsy jive, folk music, latino dance music, computer game themes… I don’t wish to bore you with the full three-page list, but you probably get my gist. Anyway, whatever of their works you choose to listen to first, you’ll most likely hear something within it that I could barely even conceive of. They were truly omnipotent, making them somewhat daunting, demi-god-like figures looming over the musical landscape.
There’s musicianship, and then there’s deific super-musicians. Estradasphere were the kind of band who could turn their hands to anything and bend it to their own peculiar will, existing on a higher plain, some kind of parallel dimension to all other music. Possibly, this dimension involved some super-potent weed.
If I weren’t simultaneously incompetent at climbing and vocal melodicism, I would be singing their praises from the rooftops. Fortunately for you, I have been forced to remain at ground level, thus being able to write this post for your delectation. Be grateful for my physical failings.
Don’t ever try to understand this band. Just listen, attempt to accept, and find yourself dragged willingly into their insane world of bizarre brilliance. This dull little planet does not often churn out acts of such majesty, playulness, originality or inscrutability as Estradasphere, so hearing their output is a must for any self-proclaimed music lover.
Utilising, variously throughout their career, guitars, horns, violins, accordions, shamisen, miscellaneous percussion, banjos, keyboards, screaming, toys, and more, they had far too much talent to sit alongside us mere mortals. We are not worthy, except to prostrate ourselves in devoted worship.
Alas, three years ago, Estradasphere declared themselves to be on permanent hiatus. Most former members have ongoing side-projects, and their music lives on, but there is nothing currently in existence that can match the awesome power they brought to bear on the music world. I would cry shame on all musicians for no picking up the baton, but, given the shoes they’d have to fill, that task would be nigh-on impossible.
Admittedly, it’s a bit late in the day to be trying to drum up the kind of support that could have saved them from cultish obscurity and kept them operative, but I would be shirking my duties were I to know I had not done all within my powers to let the world know that they existed, and that their musical legacy remains for us all to appreciate.
Dr A.F.W Curio
Epitaph? No, proof of life! Have some videos!