the label

Adam Bugaj is a member of rustic noise rockers the Clear Spots, an ensemble we’ve praised on repeated occasions here at the BF headquarters. Given that it shouldn’t even be a question whether we enjoy Bugaj’s solo music or not, but this is such a different cup of tea that it unquestionably has to live on its own merits. Luckily Wave of Tears is shock full with the kind of sonic wisdom, intricate collage-like pop structures and sparkling electronica that is all too rare these days. . . .

Click here and scroll down to read full review at Broken Face

Interview

(from introduction): Pennsylvania's Clear Spots might be the best kept secret in the Northeast, though I don't imagine that's necessarily by choice. This trio makes some of the best psychedelic-tinged music around. Innovative songs that pound your skull into dust, all the while retaining a melodic nature that keeps you coming back for more. . . .

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Review of Mansion in the Sky

"Mansion in the Sky" is an absolute delight. I knew The Clear Spots were good, but I didn't know they were this good. It's not just that it sounds good, but it feels good too. This is the kind of music that once you scratch the surface and find yourself fully entrenched, you'll let it suck you dry before letting go. . . .

Hard on the heels of their debut 'Mountain Rock' (reviewed by the Terrascope in November), brothers Adam Bugaj (drums), Matt Bugaj (guitar), and Kevin Moist (guitar) evolve their sound somewhat on 'Mansions in the Sky', albeit in stripped down trio format (brother Tom Bugaj, drummer 'Mountain Rock' does not appear here). The first thing to note is the wonderful cover photograph. It's quite easy to imagine that the featured barn was where this series of metallographic sound worlds was created, and the alarming lean of the barn the result of some extreme sound pressure level transgressions performed during these sessions/rites/cook-outs. Even so, this time out, the Clear Spots are perhaps more restrained, more spacious and more structured than on their debut (but not too much). . .

When reviewing Mountain Rock, the debut CD-R from the Clear Spots I described the music as raw and ragged, but I also noted that they choose to slow things down in a way that makes the untamed guitars and the general sense of improvisation, the aural chaos and the beds of rustic noise sound surprisingly beautiful. This is even more case on the follow-up which still finds its base in tangles of melting feedback, squealing guitar work and blaring epic noise but at the same time blows all these components apart in every direction. . . .

Click here and scroll down to read full review at Broken Face

Is it too early to get nostalgic about the mid-90s heyday of skull-splitting noise rock of the ilk of prime Dead C or early Bardo Pond? The Clear Spots clearly don't think so, if the ten imploding barnstorms on 'Mountain Rock' are anything to go by. The band is a pocket apocalypse comprising brothers Adam Bugaj (bass, keyboards, percussion), Matt Bugaj (guitar) and Tom Bugaj (drums), and the estimable Kevin Moist on more guitar. (Kevin will be familiar as editor of the late, great and soon to be resurrected on the web fanzine Deep Water, and who co-conspires with various Bardos to make the racket known at Third Troll.) 'Mountain Rock' was - appropriately - recorded in a farm house in a place called Bush Holler, Pennsylvania (they may have made that up), and one can only imagine at the distress of neighbours, livestock, low flying aircraft and anything else that stayed into the path of these Jovian storm cells during the process of their creation . . .

The Clear Spots are the three Bugaj brothers (or two brothers and a cousin or a dad and his two sons or WHATEVER) and a fellow named Kevin Moist kicking up a rowdy free or no wave two guitar/ bass/ drums racket on the "Mountain Rock" CD-R. Look past any obvious homage of the name, drink it down like the slightly tainted mountain spring water it is, and you just may see blurred visions of small glassy eyed woodland creatures scurrying in broken spirals about a Pennsylvanian hillside, drunk on bad ale and strange berries. . . .

Click here to read the full review at Foxy Digitalis