Reviews: 5/2005

1030 image 1

>>> Key

  • . Frozen In Time (10 Below)
  • . . On Thin Ice (Playable)
  • . . . Icebreaker (Solid)
  • . . . . Sonic Ice (Repeat)
  • . . . . .Avalanche (Classic)

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  • John Wiese :: Magical Crystal Blah Volume 2
  • CD :: Helicopter
  • . . . .

    1030 image 2 :: This collection of “recycled music” has a host of notable noise specialists at hand to take on the usually quite impenetrable fiery sounds of Helicopter’s prolific John Wiese. Gerritt’s take on the material stops and starts with lots of effects. It’s brashy and sassy, flippant and something of a work in progress that drags, rips and spares nothing in its path. The echo is a lil’ annoying, otherwise he’s on to something. The venerable KK Null steps up to the plate with a circular buzz of in/out, back/front sound play. And then its like the generator is just running out of battery power until something crashes and a warning has been triggered. The track is bloddy hyper-exciting. It revels in its contorted harsh feedback by twisting and straining it bleeding right into Christian Renou’s piece that starts off like multiple metal implements scraping a chalkboard. I’m so used to being zoned out by Renou (especially with his work as Brume) and after the initial corruption of noise grit he mellows the mind with a bit of drone, chastised with signal blurts that are timed and off putting. Panicsville’s piece starts as typical rock the house sorta fare only to adopt the same nerve pinching aesthetics Wiese uses, adding some nervous human laughter and coughing, metallic winding and grinding and a whole lot of surface texture. The bird call field recordings captured alongside the blubbering drowning, sucking sounds and other anxiety producing things going bump in the night make Raionbashi’s short piece riveting and tactfully scary. The tiny rumblings of Freiband let lose to a kinetic hum midway through his contribution. It’s feels like the wires have been crossed and the voltage is in your veins. Velocity takes over. RLW’s take makes several abrasive hissy erasures intercut with tape splicing and a whole lot of dramatic samples. It’s performance sound until Zbigniew Karkowski takes over and blurs the entire listening space with two pinpoint minutes of grating, metallic and industrial bliss. Joe Colley takes up the caboose with his ten-minute crackling adventure. Parts creaky laundry spindle, parts exhausting shlep, Colley creates an asthmatic trek for sure. Climbing, crawling, inching away…

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  • Jacob Kirkegaard :: Eldfjall
  • CD :: Touch
  • Alternate Site :: www.fonik.dk
  • . . . . 1/2

    1030 image 3 :: When I read about these Icelandic geothermal earth recordings by Jacob Kirkegaard I knew right away that there was something deep inside the steaming banks of these hinterlands. Hearing what he’s done with these field recordings you will face a brisk, bracing wind and deeper tones of what I consider the end of the Earth. Iceland is truly the personification of a star on our beloved and deteriorating planet. It’s lava flows and volcanicisms have blackened the seas and molten the landscape. Kirkegaard illuminates and characterizes the voice beneath the surface. From breathy gusts to spitting rumble, his microphone has been inserted into the surfaces of far off places possibly never penetrated before his tenuous visit. Pretty much the only dead zone in this recording is its use of breaking into tracks, it would work as a flow of sound rather than a document of places and excerpts. Danish-born Kirkegaard’s use of mapping equipment and electronic accelerators dramatize the already vital whispering, chilling winds and amplify the heartbeat of rich soil. It’s a dirty job, but someone had to do it. Transcendentally fragile organic music.

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  • Frame :: Afo 4
  • CD/DVD :: Mousike Lab
  • . . .

    1030 image 4 :: In collaboration with Sonar, Italian-based Frame release a spectacular audiovisual work, in the vein of other soundtracks they’ve developed. Originally presented at the Romaeuropa Festival in ’03 the piece hovers with shyness and alluring sounds that soar high. Piano, drone and airport voiceovers make “Nekih Problema” something of a fused vignette. Afo 4 definitely has this sorta overriding travel theme, jets fueling, motors, etc. as led into the obtusely ambient “Pon.” For a completely different, melodic flare “Music for a Merged Bubble” is elusive and warped, if not syrupy sweet in its take off, with a more risky landing. “Pinji Ass” is more traditional post Fairlight syth discourse, nothing new, but soothing all the same. If taking chances means switching gears a bit to emphasize a variety of sounds one can make, then Frame has accomplished this in spades – however also taking cred for that here are the three mixers including Nicola Prosatore, Marco Messina and Max Carola. Each lends a hint of either slightly more pop electronica leanings or a tip into alterna-experimentation. My DVD player disallowed me to view the conents of this import, however, if Nina di Majo’s visuals are as provocative as the diversity of the layout herein, this is quite a package.

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  • Shiryo :: No Computer
  • CD :: W.M.O.R.
  • Alternate Site :: Hibarimusic
  • . . . 1/2

    1030 image 5 :: As listed playing computer feedback Mattin tricked me into thinking my PC was freeked when this recording of nine untitled tracks (each 7:06 in length) began. Taku Unami is controlling the objects and computer as Shiryo, this duo plays silently. Not until approximately six minutes in do you start to hear the barely snoring-like rustle of something akin to a whicker broom gesturing right and left. No Computer obviously uses said medium to conduct a course in silence. Tomoya Izumi’s headless characters make for playful cover art and act a catalyst for my attention until suddenly there is a sinus-cavity impeding squeal, like a vacuum cleaner come unglued in a thumbtack factory. As unsettling as silence can be, there is something pretty durable about the micro-goings-on here, like a primer in patience and attention (ex)span(sion).

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  • Hanged Up :: Stem Stem in Electro
  • CD :: Constellation
  • . . .

    1030 image 6 :: Like a swarm of bees in pursuit the levity of Hanged Up’s “Alarm” is chock-full of Genevieve Heistek’s raging bowing. Shaped like a towering skyscraper, shooting story after story, the track goes right off the page even to the end when the sound fades, leaving serious chills to reckon with. The forlorn movie-themed, “A Different Kind of Function” is the type of song that gives Clatter for Control its cahones. Heinstek’s strings along with Eric Craven’s “sticks” make for a lovingly compatible production team that wraps tightly round the depth of despair in the poignant melodies here. Elsewhere on the record you will face the feedback of riveting percussion and creaky, aged folklore in the cracks and crevices aplenty. Other tracks like “Go Let’s Go” sound a bit to straight ahead with a country flare potentially off-putting listeners of the finer cadence in the edge of the experiments heard elsewhere on the disc. Towards the conclusion of the rumbling big bass provided by the skilled fingering of Harris Newman on “Fuck This Place” shakes the rafters. Hanged Up has made one of those records that sort of floats in between the seams of genre but experiments a bit too randomly with the variables of what’s possible within their craft, rather than focusing on a long-player that unfolds one petal at a time.

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  • P.D. :: Inweglos
  • CD :: Absurd
  • . . . .

    1030 image 7 :: “Ich gehe die strasse hinauf” is a queer little song that sort of fuses the Velvets and the Cramps in a spoken word, low-fi, late night 70′s road thing. Absurd, indeed! The Greek label that has made its reputation releasing very small run, truly unique recordings that are fully unclassifiable have done it once again. Tracks on Inweglos run between 30 seconds and 11 minutes and the tie that binds them is a feral intimacy keeping your ear to the speaker set. There are just so many very peculiar goings on, from laissez-faire vocals to space age vibrations that seem almost cartoonish this German quartet crafts one of the most listenable experiments in recent history. This re-release of one of those seminal 80s works that got somewhere lost in the mix is a welcome document to the chasm separating listening experiences of the past couple decades. For some this will be the inevitable altercation between say Moby and (Daniel) Menche combing the right elements of peace and ambience with hints of crispy noise for good measure.

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  • Giuseppe Ielasi :: Gesine
  • CD :: Häpna
  • . . .

    1030 image 8 :: Ahhhhhh, a stripped down somber guitar solo opens this 6 track new outing by Giuseppe Ielasi. Taking an ambient turn, the disc is a soothing reminder that big music sometimes comes in plan packages. The bigness here is actually the containment of dense atmospheric tone and residual drone. Sensitive and spacious at times, Ielasi keeps his craft on the especially lackadaisical, minimal side. Suffering in its pauses due to the intimacy of what is actually available to listen to, and at times the guitar strings sproing a bit giving Gesine a bit of an old world Western stance, but it almost seems unintentionally haphazard. All the while he remains true to his connection to the material, however. This is not something that seems overtly improvised nor composed, floating into the abyss and stream of consciousness for moments on end. I think it’s most successful when the focus is not on strumming away at something resembling a half-built folk song, as the background has an emotional tempo that bares itself.

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  • Boris Hauf :: Soft Left Onto Westland
  • CD :: Mosz
  • . . . 1/2

    1030 image 9 :: Soft Left onto Westland is many things under one name. When “Trucker’s Hitch” Boris Hauf takes the wheel and rides dreamily through a crash course, like being capsulized in the sleeping compartment with its subtle blips and low-fi funkiness. The wordsmithing, spoken bits on “Waste Management Business” strains to punctuate the power of its silly syllables, it’s a bit of a rash live improv thing. Throughout there are strange samples that recall the colorfully jubilant flavors in 1950′s appliance commercials, with a nice edgy crack, hiss and crackle of feedback and other electronic manipulation. This is particularly pronounced as the dsc grooves from “Annie’s Little Tin Devils” into “Kimberly Jones’ Dancers and the 8 Movie Stars Who Worked in a Gas Station or Garage.” Hauf’s sense of humor, spotted throughout, makes this a pleasantly smooth-flowing listen, even when it sounds like he’s just rolling things around a tabletop, or splicing a Super 8 film running backwards through a projector, it just fends for attention.

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  • Scanner + Dessy :: Play Along
  • CD :: Sub Rosa
  • . . . .

    1030 image 10 :: I am almost immediately transformed into a world of syncopated ambience without frills, just long sensual bowing that warps my frontal lobe gently. The opening title cut on ‘Play along’ brings together Jean-Paul Dessy’s Ensemble Musiques Nouvelles string quartet alongside Scanner’s marvelous electronic synthesis between the digital and analogue spectrum. At nearly a half-hour the piece plays like a cool breeze on a Sunday afternoon, if it were on Pluto. There’s a cryptic distance here that is dramatic and a bit lost. In many ways it reminds me of the paintings of Constable and Turner with their wide canvases that have an off-centered focal point in the midst of collected chaos. While “Play along” plays on, there is a soothing sense to the horrors that could potentially lurk within, like David Cronenberg’s psychological thrillers that lure you in with a warm hominess only to instantaneously slash your throat by surprise. “Out of the trench and wading backwards” has a bass heavy heart that plays like a snippet from ‘Dark Shadows’. Most striking is the final of these three fine works, “Whaling Wolves”, which is a stirring rendition of animated sea mammal sounds concocted exclusively on electronics by Dessy that resonate at times like fearsome air raids. At times sounding like a faded memory of an arcade, its eleven minutes in the deepest black night on restrained seas that speak in blunt tones. Dessy and Scanner create an atmosphere that speaks of dense pain and peace.

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  • Ryoji Ikeda :: Formula (Ltd. 3000)
  • DVD/Book :: Touch
  • Alternate Site :: Forma
  • . . . . 1/2

    1030 image 11 :: Ryoji Ikeda has become one of the most consistent experimental electronic artists of the last dozen years. Formula is something of a compendium of his catalogue, a retrospective of sorts. Inside this DVD/Book are excerpts from concerts, video graphics and plenty of gorgeous documentation of his lauded installation work both solo and with collaborators such as Dumb Type. Ikeda’s use of sinewaves and mathematical algorithms is pin-point deadpan. Playing with tones that tease the abilities of human hearing capacities he paces sound like a tiger stalks its prey, waiting in the brush with depressed circular breathing. . The concert captured at The Garden Hall in Tokyo a month after 9/11 shows a steely, plotted grid of sound, also depicted in the accompanying visual material. A repetitious patterning of blue lines drifts against a solid black background like a scanner transmitting pixels at some umpteenth dpi. In “headphonics 0/1″ there are distinct overtures heard on David Bowie’s “Fashion.”

    Incorporating digital replications of integer-based 0101 graphics, Ikeda works with Hiromasa Tomari and Shiro Takatani to make for a perfect match of sight and sound. The jittery rhythm on “Testone+Trans-missions” with its velocitous warp of surround sound that numbs, is beyond hypnotic. While some of this work would only offend and/or make some casual observers wince due to volume and tone, it is active listening for those who can hear and see art in common daily items from fluorescent tubes above you to CRTs in front of you to radio/TV interference and a host of medical equipment. Ikeda takes these aesthetics of simple sounds and edits the aspects of commonality which makes life funky from a crispier side of the aural realm. On “Time 3’33″ he crosses a heart monitor with the sounds that have forged the ultimate sound of the Raster-Noton label. There are distinct similarities. I call his soundtrack for “Matrix” at the Millennium Dome in London back in Y2K something acoustically severing, sine-drone, if you will. Ikeda’s sound is uniquely composed as an intimate listening experience, and here he proves that in tracks like “db” presented at the ICC in Tokyo. He plays on “the test” of the emergency broadcast network to a fault. But it’s the hiss and pitter-patter of minimalism that draws me back to his work time and again. It’s a push-pull effect that is challengingly complex. This set, limited to only 3000 copies has an accompanying book which is a striking 96-page document including many small glossy images from installations and collaborations. The graphics depict contained spaces, many long and narrow in which Ikeda’s sound work has been presented, some providing diagrams of the blueprint architecture of his overall sound plots shown in many of the world’s major cities (London, Frankfurt, Tokyo, etc).

 

  • Francisco Lopez :: Live in San Francisco
  • CD :: 23five Incorporated
  • . . . . .

    1029 image 2 :: At Sonar 2003 the most fascinating live performance by far was the limited audience piece by Francisco Lopez at Barcelona’s Contemporary Art Museum. He had the audience blindfolded and lying on square ottomans in the complete darkness. Let’s just say it was an altering mind/body experience that this reviewer will never forget. Big thanks to San Fran’s 23five for making the extra effort to document a precursor piece (that is packaged with, sans instructions, a blindfold). The work is a haze of swarming crickets, a serrated blend of industrial drone. The first piece “Live at the Lab – Hexaphonic” was performed live in the Summer of Y2K. Building and growing it crescendos with a metallic drop and just withers away softly, like a cartoon’ish shy machine. But again, at about ten minutes into this eighteen minute piece, it floods the room with flaring treble, like some massive periscopic field device taking over a major city by night. There’s something rather ambitious about the assumed size of the sound as it just oozes all over everything and caresses the hallways and crevices of the space it is released into. “Live at 3feetofftheground” starts off like a distant thunderstorm with a fine, soft hiss like grassy rain migrating through the air. Something about this recording gets me anxious, and I’m a laid back guy. It just quivers for these segments and then you’re in the fryer, sizzling like the edge of a raucous cymbal. Lopez plays with the elements in a sensory play of sonic, vibrating revelry that doesn’t let go of you.

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  • Kammerflimmer Kollektief :: Absencen
  • CD :: Staubgold
  • . . . 1/2

    1029 image 3 :: “Lichterloh” opens with a clear modern pop-jazz flare on Absencen, the fifth album by the German sextet Kammerflimmer Kollektief. But that’s just the start, don’t discount this record at first scance, there’s a whole lotta genre-bending melodies stuffed in this collection. Overtures of classical vibrancy mixed with the feel of Goldfrapp’s ‘Felt Mountain’ topped with a bit of sci-fi ala Kubrick’s anti-soundtrack to ’2001: A Space Odyssey’. Shades of colors and rough edges bleed in braids over and around each other scantily in “Nachtwache, 15. September”. The center to the production is the very tenuous and watchful percussion, it sounds so live and courting in its own space in and out of the background, but remains constant and stays with the various rhythms and curves from fluttering horns and other knobbing popping out like a standard on “Shibboleth”. I feel like I am listening to a set from Miles’ quartet with some updated, ornate structures thrown in for good measure. Another tribute to the Gun Club’s Jeffrey Lee Pierce (see reviews for Two Lone Swordsmen’s recent ‘Sex Beat EP’) on “Unstet” which follows its long nose through hayseed and tumbleweeds. Yah, it’s a bleary, long days cross between say Cowboy Junkies and Ry Cooder, with the cinematic consciousness of fellow collective Godspeed You Black Emperor. It just makes space sound more open. The techno snake-dance that is “Matt” is a quickie track that teases, taunts and wriggles in shortened syncopation to a dead halt.

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  • Eric Malmberg :: Den Gàtfulla Människan
  • CD :: Häpna
  • . . .

    1029 image 4 :: The Hammond organ is something pretty staid, tried and true in the annals of music, from the Phantom to the back of the church, but Eric Malmberg concocts something quite exotically charged, briskly ornate and psychedelic all at once. It floats and emotes, and is grand kin to the stylistic trance inducing early 70′s work of Tangerine Dream and Can. Here you will find some raw, organic melodies, born first thing in the morning, cracking dawn with sweet scaled layers of light. I appreciate the choice to have these tracks seamlessly weave into each other subtly, it only benefits the long-playing hypnotic, tale-evolving feel in the work. Somewhere here the sounds of television themes for shows like Nova, Jacques Cousteau’s Wild Sea Adventure and Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom are hinted at dully. It’s a bit of that lazy Saturday afternoon placidly bored thing going on. But it seems to work and at the same time poke at the Muzak culture that has evolved. Throughout some of the tracks there is a time signature that is captured by a counting percussion sound playing centrally in “Överjaget.” It’s a record of wide-eyed colorful emotions and otherwise dreamy pastoral settings.

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  • Looper :: Squarehorse
  • CD :: Absurd
  • . . .

    1029 image 5 :: Sax, cello and percussion Greek trio Looper present two lengthy tracks on their debut Squarehorse. Sparse and esoteric at first, the minimal play on sound widens like a bit of an electrical current steadily charging. Some high pitched feedback is courted and controlled, like waves of vibratory signals. The cello can instantly morph from a saw to the edge of an ocean. Midway through the first track it seems to veer off to an ending, but Looper has another good 8 or so minutes to stretch and strain and struggle in and out of an industrial twist of galvanized warble. Martin Küchen, Nikos Veliotis and Ingar Zach start off part two quite silently, just a vague crackle and bowing emerge. The sounds that you get from blowing into the top of a glass bottle faint rise to the surface, like those at an old ship yard harbor. What comes next is just plain mysterious, dark, dramatic scrap drone that plays with detonated fire extinguishers and hairpin tones that shoot straight through the cornea into the vortex of your brain’s last nerve ending.

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  • Carter Tutti :: Live Concert LEM Festival October 4, 2003
  • CD :: Gliptoteka Magdalae
  • . . . .

    1029 image 6 :: Something wicked this way comes –wicked good that is (pardon the 80′s slang). Liquid rhythms flow in isolated hypnotic patterns, streaming lengthwise, long and loose. For the Throbbing Gristle alums this is quite secretively slithering and so sensually wet. Atmospheric head-trip drone, passages that just wrap themselves around you like a chilling massage, diodes firmly in place. Yes, this is the core of the night, personified. “Calm Circle” actually isn’t at all calm. In fact it’s the Jaws theme redux, while a simultaneous calmative is on overload. You are taking those curves on a winding road with no streetlights in a lightning storm through crooked steep paths on the coast of some remote island. Dizzying and dangerous.

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  • Andrey Kiritchenko :: True Delusion
  • CD :: Nexsound
  • . . . .

    * Ukraine :: “Scope of My Perception” is a very pretty intro of off-centered guitar strings that just dance in a pale light. True Delusion is contemporary folk music that uses the guise of noise and various samples that include feedback and the openness of a room capped by a chaotic open mic that wanders, gets dragged and plays with the Polaroid quality of field recordings. The crickets, digging in the dirt and other activities are rigorously tended to as Kiritchenko strums his strings on “Both My Sides.” The piano on “Illusion of Safety” is not as threatening as it is quite lovely. Tells a story of quiet patience, anticipation. The story changes to something of a spiral staircase snow-globe of lost control in the startling “Illusory Self-Motion” that is just raw, unrefined and sudden. ‘True Delusion’ winds down with delicate, repetitive melodies that toy with a far more sleepy side of this album. “Agravic Illusion” is the static foam produced by the last lapping waves of Summer. Low tide drifts away, in it the memories of all this play.

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  • Andreas Meland/Lasse Marhaug :: Brakhage
  • CD :: Melektronikk
  • . . . .

    1029 image 7 :: Beyond Grandpeople’s seductively psychedelic and explosively colorful cover art Brakhage is a split release by two emerging artists come together to pay homage to filmmaker Stan Brakhage. And with sass and brass these two men re-style this recording, originally performed live back in ’03. The results permeate the listening space into an experience in instant solitude, as Andreas Meland wrangles through the six-part “Dog Star Man.” It’s like sipping ether through a swirly straw, just bloating your head with an slow-churned eruption of blisteringly shaped white noise that tightly wraps itself over and over like an endless spool of twine. This is not sheer noise, its cultivated sound-art noise, with blowing whistles and a vibrant presence. When Meland softens the tones there is an air of twitchiness, a nerve spasm, quiet but omnipresent. Lasse Marhaug’s (Jazzkammer) single 1/2 hour “The Act of Seeing with One’s Own Eyes” track opens with a passage that blurs at intervals and slowly adds textural surface noise. Quietly hypnotic as guitars are only hinted at, the track could illustrate a stagnant ecosphere, dried-up bodies of water and the wind just rustling through a long, shadowy canyon. A gurgling grind begins balanced by an itchy micro-beat. In all, it’s a pretty subduing ride into a dulling dense darkness.

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  • Evol :: Magia Potagia
  • CD :: Mego
  • . . .

    1029 image 8 :: The Spanish duo Evol presents three rubbery, cut-up algorithmic compositions done exclusively with computer on Magia Potagia. The fluorescent opener, a half-hour long stirred up game of nerdy electro-soundmath called “Punani Potagia” bounces, flips, reverses, stops and starts again. It’s a big blend of swirly noise and bold fun. If I didn’t know better I would probably have checked to see if someone’s PS2 was seriously malfunctioning. It’s a hyperific, neon ringtone sonata from Mars. An air raid of fuzzy balloons and skittering feedback greet the ear on the centerpiece, “Pus pus pus.” It’s a swarm thing that just keeps circling menacingly. This lightheaded barrage may scare off some smaller insects. It’s a macro/micro duality sounding quite irritable. The sci-fi sounds of “Walpurgis” end this trio of quirky cuts. Layers of warnings, all sort of circus-like and hazy. Half way through a combo of sweet tones and sticky and syrupy movements. The collage gets denser, like the sounds of an arena event before some spectacular ice show. All in all this album is like a fallen deck of card, many pieces scattered loosely, free-fallen, random, and haphazardly organic.

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  • Freiband/Boca Raton :: Product
  • CD :: Crónica
  • . . . . 1/2

    * Portugal :: Portugal’s Crónica once again must be acknowledged for keeping to task, and truly offering work that is challenging in the busted world of electronic music. Freiband (Frans de Waard) and Boca Raton (Martijn Tellinga) team up to release their split live recording from 04′s Earational Festival (the Netherlands). The jittery “Temptations” sways with a ridged and weighed crackle, something of a rocking ship on stormy seas complete with outdated floorboards. As the low rumble of droney hum beckons quietly into the distance a warning tone glides resonantly like a constant reminder, an alarm call. Throughout de Waard uses a low-grade vinyl hiss to play on the artist’s hand in the work, an organic earthy reminder that we all grew from an analogue world that was far less Technicolor just a few years ago. “Heaters” builds this up into a field of braided friction, as it warms up the room, literally. As the chugging motor of Boca Raton’s “Crop” (circles) begins there’s a bit of space, a breath, and some sense that activity like watching, searching and scraping is taking place. It’s an active piece that also blends lovely, yet sheer Asian tonalities that just glisten. It sounds like Tellinga has incorporated field recordings of blunt force winds, adding a natural percussive element here. As these circles evolve he adds tension with tiny gestural pieces that are a bit fidgety, and uncoordinated. These circles build like a forceful gas and wind down to a soft scratch like a rake on hardened, smooth surface. The sweet chirping of an arboretum bodes well for the sonic tones that just let go into the wilderness. It’s quite rapturous how he did that.

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  • Erik Griswold :: Altona Sketches
  • CD :: Room40
  • . . . . 1/2

    1029 image 9 :: Brisbane-based Erik Griswold’s “Imperfect Memories” checks-in with a broken and forlorn ‘lil music box. But soon “Wednesday” brightly springs-open the aural passages in a hopeful mix of many of his handmade contraptions using piano strings that are laced, stretched and otherwise prepared. Humpday never sounded so much like contemporary Japanese music, but throughout this seventeen-minute pulsating track it’s a bright testament to how you can stretch tradition to new lengths. As his days of the week run amok and land upright, passages are soothing, then rushing, then a mix of massage and a tweak of mayhem. This is ornamental collected chaos, filtered and formatted. And so goes “Thursday” and “Friday” (the stand-out track here for sure), like pages from a punctuated journal, Griswold sort of uses this improvisational format to hint at Schroederesque overtures with a humor and lots of tonal vitality. It’s playful, yet inquisitive and naive. “Pink Memories” combines a gawky toy piano with miniature click taps that act as an interval between tracks. “Clicks & Pops” is as its titled, a bit of something like a spray paint can revving. It’s a colorful collage of artful composition.

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