Orc is a collection of four numbered tracks, or ‘layers’, each being around ten minutes of dynamic and impulsive live electronics work fusing modular synthesis, sound generators, and a litany of effects ranging from the homemade and handcrafted to the (fairly) big budget, mostly arranged on the fly through a 24 track analogue mixer. The result is four slabs of gloriously expressive chaos that jumps around between differently constructed walls of broken noise, and mostly short-lived breathing spaces between them. Rhythm is foregone, but there’s a serialism to the sonic affrontery that acts as a surrogate structure.
To say that the second part is any calmer than the first would be true, but would imply that the second part is in any way calm, which it certainly isn’t. The analogue squeaks come further to the floor, and the noise and distortion is notched down a touch, but it’s still panicky and skittish. The bubbling low electronics of the third part are the nearest we get to an actual rhythm, while part four is the darkest and most sinister, channeling more than a little sense of a Radiophonic Workshop representation of alien threat as expressed through the medium of late 60’s black-and-white TV.
It’s a fine balancing act to work in such a noise-driven and cacophonous way yet to find a way of emoting and building human expression into it, rather than pure randomness, and for the most part, Giona Vinti pulls off that balance here. The sheer unadulterated rawness and relentless energy level of it won’t be to everyone’s taste, but if you like your electronics acerbic, bordering on sandpaper-like, then this is a deep dive into thick soundwaves that you’ll definitely enjoy.