Alex White works predominantly with electronic music, but Transductions is based almost wholly around a disklavier- a MIDI-controllable yet acoustic (and seemingly extremely expensive) piano- which is being driven through programmatic or machine-output patterns. Consequently, the result sounds like the work of a classical pianist who’s going a little bit mad.
The variation comes from differing levels of chaos. “Slow Descent Of Wooden Window”, despite its name, is one of the noisiest and least obviously structured pieces, while “Cheekbone Against Window Of Train” is calmer and more solemn, evocatively reproducing those senses of travel and the slow travel on raindrops on glass.
Each track title describes a transfer of energy, yet I have to say that overall, the feeling is more sedate than energetic. Even shorter more active pieces such as “Bicycle Rear Wheel Lateral Movement”, thanks to their enchanting and slightly fragile acoustic sound, have an effect that’s a little like listening to a waterfall- while it’s a wall of seemingly unmanaged noise, it flows in such a way that it feels like a single natural texture.
Despite the unique methodology behind it, the only criticism I feel inclined to level at this release is that it sounds much like the simple work of an experimental pianist, sketching textures with their fingers alone, and if you hadn’t read the accompanying blurb to tell you how it was generated, you wouldn’t realise how it had been formed. But nevertheless it’s a rich avantgarde piano work that’s worthy of attention.
This is a compilation with current music from Turin to support musicians and listeners equally. Delete Recordings first digital only release after a series of limited tapes + download due to the current crisis.
Some of this tracks like Enrico Degani's Acoustic Guitar Piece "Perfect Prison", Naturmorta's experimental ballad "Meaning Of Reality" as well as the dramatic Ondalunga Instrumental and "Ouroboros" (the snake that bites it's own tail) by Luca Purum Nihil directly reflect the general mood of these past months; loss of the everyday routines and it's safety, isolation, insecurity, unexpected changes & doubts and fear.
Ramon Moro's "Mediaval Ballad" is reminiscent of the darkest age of the plague, perhaps intended as a funeral march to accompany the lost. Paul Beauchamp's "River Of Gold" works nearly as an continuation of the same theme - dripping electronic sounds in an electronic river. Flowing somewhere - but the Gold is hard to find nowadays.
The final 3 tracks by Fabrizio Modonese Palumbo, Lo Dev Alm and Selfimperfectionist with DsorDNE take a look into a brighter future yet to come with exotic soundscapes and electronic movements. "These Days" as final track with its swirling sequences and a decent tech-house groove is a perfect outlook to better days to come.
This collection is dedicated to the spirit of the city and it's lively music culture, of course mastered in Turin (at O.F.F. Studios by Marco Milanesio, like all other Delete releases). I would happily listen to a Volume 2 as I would jump in the Golden Dolphin whenever the chance comes along.
Instrument Sleeve # 1 is the collaborative effort of Psychiceyeclix and Caecus Animi. Before I delve into my review of this album, I think it is important to first provide a little background about these artists. Psychiceyeclix is the anonymous multimedia (sound and visual) project of an electronic and mechanical engineer. The project has been around since 2001 and has produced a number of releases. Much of Psychiceyeclix’s music is made via modified or “circuit bent” synthesizers, toys, etc. You can purchase some of Psychiceyeclix’s modified equipment here:
Caecus Animi is a producer and electronic musician who has worked with a variety of artists through the years and has a residency with Aria, which is a collective that puts on various underground parties. Like Psychiceyeclix, he is known for using unconventional sounds.
With that background, let’s talk about this album. After first reviewing the various press materials for these two artists and the album itself, Instrument Sleeve # 1 was not the wild album I was expecting. Having anticipated erratic glitch beats complemented by abrasive and odd noises from an array of modified instruments, I instead heard a very smooth, polished, and structured collection of songs that can best be described as a cross between AFX, 8-bit video game music, Crystal Castles, and Bernard Favre’s more recent work.
As a whole, the album is rather downtempo. All of the tracks have roughly the same bpm. None are particularly fast paced. All of the songs have a steady base rhythm that is supplemented by the occasional glitchy overlay. It is not at all erratic or in constant flux like a lot of glitch and IDM. The synth parts and melodies are steady, but dynamic enough to keep you interested. The build ups and crescendos are gradual. What is nice about this album is that the music is comprised of simple parts that are thoughtfully layered. My favorite parts of the album are the interspersed blips, beeps, and glitches that reminded me of Joy Electric, if Ronnie Martin used 8-bit emulators. Some of my favorite tracks include 808 Game, Chinese Disco 8 Bit, Portersound, and Talking Teacher. Overall, I liked the album and found it was great to play while working. Specifically, I was doing some statistical analyses and it provided an excellent soundtrack. I like it more with each listen.
On a final note, the physical version of the album includes an “onboard noise box” that is attached to the sleeve, which you can fiddle with while listening to the album or use for your own creative endeavors. I’m not going to lie, that is pretty damn cool, and I hope to get a copy.
Simon Šerc’s CMBR is the ‘sonification’ of data from the ESA’s Planck space telescope, studying “the coldest objects in the universe”, tracking variations in the baseline sound of the universe, “the oldest sound in the universe” and other such statements that seem like grand hyperbole but which are broadly scientifically valid, as far as a layman like myself can tell.
Of course the passage from data to sound is such an arbitrary and redefinable concept that it’s in that translation that the creative composition is found; given the same data set, other people could just as easily have transposed it into coloured noise or glitch rhythms. But Šerc’s approach is a touch more purist, in a way, offering up four fifteen-minute-long pieces of atmospheric and ambient sound design that feel like they paint different landscapes.
“Cold Care” initially comes across as a relatively typical, almost familiar-sounding sci-fi representation of what deep space might sound like if there were any sound in space. Hollow, reverberant tones give an open chamber feel. There’s a sense of distant wind. But as it proceeds, the wind gets louder and noisier, until it is a thoroughly gritty and jarring, with an abrupt end. It’s a transition effect that is repeated throughout the other three pieces as well, each beginning far more calmly than they end.
Surprisingly, “Greybody Fit” sounds like a medium-sized industrial unit, with a steady background hum that feels decidedly mechanical. Perhaps the curve of a statistical analysis became a waveform, and if so, it feels like a familiar and very human pitch, a steady vibration that anyone working in industry or manufacturing might feel very at home with. Top-end rustling sits somewhere between distortion and the digital rustling of the leaves on artificial trees.
“Flux Density” sounds like high level sonic wind, relentlessly battering and pummelling the spaceship you’re trapped in, loud and oppressive yet also somehow safe, before the gradual arrival of clicking sounds that feel more invasive. Final piece “Declination” begins with a low synthesized bass tone that feels quite soundtrack-like, reminding me unexpectedly of the “2010” movie, before again devolving into noise. The most unexpected part is the final minute, which feels, perhaps intentionally, like all the equipment suddenly breaks and the relentless whirring winds down. It’s an unusual, almost comic way to return your ears into normal space.
ChainDLK’s format options prevent me from listing the unusual array of formats that this release is available on- namely 7-and-a-half inch tape reel, Blu-ray disc, and 24-bit digital. The format options feel like the most ostentatious part of the release. There’s really nothing wrong with 16-bit stereo and the promo I listened to was comprised of compressed MP3’s, and contrary to what some audiophiles will tell you, it sounded fine! Sadly I can’t comment on the ‘responsive video’ on the Blu-ray, which would be interesting to see and could add another dimension.
It’s nicely executed if slightly indulgent as a work, an interesting way of translating publicly available data into sonics. A few more surprises or unexpected production twists might have been welcome, and by the time the sound devolves into noise for the fourth time it feels a little ‘done’, but as gritty ambiences and hums go, it’s certainly well done.
Seeded Plain is a project of Bryan Day (who runs Eh? and Public Eyesore) and Jay Kreimer with what seems to be occasionally a changing cast of additional performers. The Flying Falling album is the duo of Bryan and Jay. Personally I am very familiar with Public Eyesore which has released music by some of my favorite artists since about 2001.
On Discogs, this is often listed as "Jazz", "Experimental" or "Free Improvisation" which I feel like are pretty generic terms. While sounding unique I hear a lot of Musique Concrète influences. Flying Falling is a slow-moving scrape and dirge with various instruments being played in a non-traditional manner and distorted sounds of metal being rubbed and scraped to build a beautiful sonic experiment. Everything is laid out very well and you can tell the performers have experience in mixing these methods of sound generation together.
This release is extremely chill and relaxing and shouldn't be missed by purveyors of experimental music.