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Ampersand Etcetera – 2002_01
ambient & microwave & electronica & experimental & lowercase & postclassical & minimal & techno & etcetera
Welcome to the new year and the first issue. This year I will TRY for shorter, focussed (but perhaps more frequent) issues. (Which means kerbing my enthusiasm: 02 is already half-written, and I am sooo tempted to wack it all in here and overwhelm you all.)
This one is on Peter Wright from New Zealand and the latest from Consume (2001_19): CD-r labels making their way in the big market.
To come: in 02: Samartzis/Sachiko M on Dorobo, Fantasmagramma, Z’ev, Tu m’, Konk Pack, Hollydrift, Aesova, Kyriakides; and then O’Rourke, TaaPet, Berthling and much more!
jeremy@pretentious.net
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http://ampersandetc.virtualave.net/ampersand.html
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Peter Wright
Syncopate (apoplexy apx06)
Radioplay (apoplexy apx09)
Automaton (apoplexy apx10)
Duna last visible dog CD-r
Clavius 20city 7" 20C-4
David Khan & Peter Wright
Confinement & Release (apoplexy apx12)
CM Acoustic Ensemble
Last Refuge Of The Insane (apoplexy apx08)
Various Artists
Ta/W
kRkRkRk
http://go.to/apoplexy
http://20city.com
Following the Freedom From issue, Peter Wright sent me a package of material from his Apoplexy label and some of his stuff on other labels. He does have an FF release, but it wasn’t in the material I got: anyway, all these releases feature him solo, in collaboration or in a live album from another label he started – kRkRkRk. Hailing from New Zealand (which I must admit, as a neighbour we don’t hear enough of) initially a guitarist Peter has expanded into various musical areas, as demonstrated here. Apoplexy is a CD-r label, presenting the disks in folded sheets: one as a cover, the other the inner sleeve with some details. They are very limited releases (50), so some are out of print, but all reviewed here were available on my last look at the site.
Taking his solo releases somewhat chronologically (not the same as the release order), we start with ‘Automaton’, a dark and intense tonedrone ride, using voice, screwdriver guitar, electronics, cd player and loops, recorded in 1996. Opening with the title track where very deep rumbles and tones are joined by a distant growling voice: shimmers shape into ringing tones, pulses and breaths develop from an e-bow, zings build, a little guitar and light tapping sliding in towards the end. ‘Mantra’ has a drone overlaid with tinkling loops, the futzpulses over and other tones swirling, broadening out and then fading by parts. High tones, rumbling percussion and a voice tone emerge from silence in ‘A stone blanket’, a distant trumpet, pulses, the tone drops and a fuzzy end. The next track reminded me of a gothic minotaur as white noise and a g/rough dark voice growled – and it is called ‘Screaming skulls’ – the darkness shifts into some lighter tones, tense metallic-frippy loops with longer harsh ones over that swirl and build almost to a scream, a cry within, bleak, slides to the end. A supple picking loop runs throughout ‘Self deception = idolatry’ entering with surging tones and drones: long high tones eventually start bending into notes, settles, then introduces some electronics – tangs plings shimmers – a string sample and tortured guitar. This continues, becoming feedbacky swirly, the pick-loop fades and the last minute or so of the 15 ends with sirens and tones. There are various sections to ‘Terminus II’: the opening scratchy loop and high tone; some piano and humms; a tonal loop that overlaps and echoes; a loop, playing with its speed; simple and layered tones that fragments and bursts with jumpy cd sampling. And finally ‘Dream’ releases with a slow beat, pulsing and swirling, restrained. Typical varied and complex early works, pointing to many of the later trends, and also fascinating in its own right.
‘Syncopate’ adds digital treatments, sampler and dictaphone to the guitar and analog synths. ‘Sync I’ opens with twittering glitch and voice that shifts into pulsing crackles, buzzing surges and fast putters that pulls it alnog to a fast pulsing end: the promised syncopation is here. ‘II’ evolves slowly swirling shimmering pulses in a mournful mood, adding percussive tweaks and squeaks in the second half. More pulsing in ‘III’ with a rapid click and a crackling distortion that has that hint of processed vocals (there’s something about the patterns) and is quite musical, which stops before a very soft fade. I was reminded of Malcolm Bly’s ‘Mollusc’ releases (net and The Foundry) with ‘Sync IV’ which has the same subaquatic feel to it – long woobly mumbly tones that build with more noisy/aggressive ones, and then have a ringing drift quality to them. Very soft rumbles and putts within static open ‘V’, joined after a couple of minutes by a singing tone and a voice reciting, with echoes and manipulation, leaving later and allowing the rumble to control the end. ‘VI’ builds out of the remains of ‘V’, with deeper rumbles that shake the speakers accompanied by a rising and falling basal tone, and ‘VII’ is a simpler fluctuating drone with guitar sounds in it.
‘Radioplay’ is described as ‘a shortwave radio piece in 3 parts’ but comes as a single 32 minute track – so I will guess at the parts. The first is a five minute collage of voices captured through the radio – some distorted – that build over through and conclude with a clear evangelist talking slowly. This is supported by swirls static high tones and rumbles. The second part is introduced by a silence and then a short speaker shaking rumble which is replaced by a light subtle tone. After a couple of minutes a higher ringing is placed on top, and then an organ-ic grows and spreads over everything, becoming quite loud and dominant, full of wavering harmonics, and stabbed by faint ringing and buzzes. After some minutes it drops to a sine-tone and then deeper voicelike humming, this is quite a variable period which ends with some piercing harmonised tones, with some voices deep within, before a brief silence. I think past three is the last ten minutes or so, where little shimmers pulse and grow with mores pulses in a light almost delicate wind-noise. High tones and a chopperbeat overwhelms it, quite harsh and again with voices in it. It fades to a warm tone that starts to waver and chitter before playing with a sinewave takes out the last few minutes, joined by a mysterious organ undertone into the climax. The play moves smoothly through these sections, creating a nice balance.

The four pieces on ‘Duna’ are credited to the guitar alone (although that includes multi-tracking, and possible treatments and effects) and include a 32 minute live work. Of the albums it does sound the most stripped back to the instrument, and where I was most strongly reminded of Fripp soundscapes – although there are suggestions elsewhere: long ringing tense dark stretched straining notes layered and textured. In ‘Sierra’ long tones shimmer and vibrate, suggestions at times of guitarish components, it uses its 15 minutes to drift and layer tones that at times moan call harmonise slowly, with a glorious series of descending tones at around 7 minutes. Two layers parallel each other in ‘Miasma’: high ringing guitar and low drones that are warm and rounded. As the track progresses these vie for you attention, changing in density and volume, adding elements like pure sine tones or breathing chimes, weaving a hypnotic spell broken as the high tones dominate the long fade. The mood continues with ‘excerpt from "…the poets emerge" demo’, a few minutes of ringing and buzz with cello-like deeper tones striking through. And then the delightfully named ‘Without a second thought he turned his back to the people and painted the walls’, which is a 35 minute live track: the title perhaps reflecting some audience responses to the minimal theatrics of solo drone-guitar. The cloud of slowly swirling twisting guitar notes is mesmerising, at times settling into a single tone that broadens out again, the piece flowing and transforming, leading to a climax in the final quarter that softens into a final fade. Never less than musical but with occasional harsh passages, the focus of the track and album is impressive.
Finally in the solo bracket, the 7" ‘Clavius’ provides two lunar slabs of guitar based ambient-density. ‘Clavius’ performs e-bowed density as higher atmospheric tones form a base for stately and gorgeous string-like progressions, touched occasionally by atonality and underscored by deeper resonances. The guitar is more prepared on ‘Kepler’ and deep pulsing tones are woven with higher ones like breaths. There are metallic clatters and tangs, the deep drones continue with high percussive guitar: distant deep tones build to be forceful and shimmering, overtones providing intensity, fading to a crackly distortion. A satisfying brief addition to the developing oeuvre.
At an art gallery in June 2000 Wright (on the usual battery: guitar, razor, effects, screwdriver and cymbal) was joined by David Khan (sampler, keyboard, pipe, knives, oil drum, balinese rainmaker) to perform the two parts of ‘Confinement & Release’. The piece was recorded in October. The two parts are about equal in length and express different responses and aspects of dronal music. ‘Confinement’ opens with drones from the guitar accompanied by pattery percussion taps and then other noises over – some obvious guitary (scrapes, the taps) and also bells. A harsh edgy noise enters, a scrape to put your teeth on edge, which builds to a climax and fades: never too harsh though. A period of minimal droning that pulses and grows follows, and into along lovely jangly fade. A much denser sound occurs in ‘Release’ with layers of drone from the outset – guitars and string tones – and descending motifs and ringing tones. About halfway through it settles into a more musical, less searching mode, dense but somehow more minimal, that drifts into a ringing gentle play and finally a simple cricket chittering conclusion. Two very strong and enjoyable pieces.
Peter Wright has built an impressive and formidable collection of guitar-drone albums in the five years since recording ‘Automaton’. While exploring similar soundspace, each has its own flavour: the purity of ‘Duna’, soundsource of ‘Radioplay’, intensity of ‘Syncopate’ and ‘Automaton’, and the interplay of ‘Confinement & Release’. The limited nature of the editions to 50 (other than ‘Duna’ – not sure how many they release) makes it difficult for you all to get them all – but for those who enjoy this style, its definitely worth seeking out.
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The CM Acoustic Ensemble is Brett Croft (bass, cello, percussion, piano), Nick Hodgson (percussion, piano, sax), Charles Horn (cello), Soon Kim (sax, bass), Matthew Middleton (national call charges[?]) and Wright (bass, piano, violin). ‘Last Refuge Of The Insane’ was recorded in two goes in September and October 1999. It appears to be an improvisatory group, somewhat along the lines of the VibraCathedral Orchestra and other larger acoustic set-ups, and presents a range of faces. ‘The accousers’ develops from a squeaky start (some very mouthy) into a virtuosi display of piano: banged chords and flowing notes creating a melodic flow. There are hints of tones through, more obvious near the end and in the cello finalefade. A quarter of the album is given over to ‘Remorse’ which is a soft mournful melancholic minimalist piece for long tones from cello and sax with a light piano base. Beautiful.
Over half the album is ‘The ghosts of the innocents’ (recorded with ‘Remorse’) and stimulates a bit of ‘ah, improv group, here we go again’ with the opening couple of minutes of group madness: banging percussion, screaming sax and so on. But it goes suddenly very very quiet – some very light percussive tapping, rolling noises, squeezed squeaks – strings plucked and scratched starts to emerge, light percussives and tones. Eventually a soft sax takes the foreground, blowing gently sustains, surrounded by restrained percussion and other support. This meditation continues for about half the track, gaining momentum at times, and is then taken over by percussion and more didgeridoo sax, and then a sax duo. Squealing returns in the last quarter, from sax and strings (I think), sliding into a full group conclusion, which is driving without being demented.
Finally ‘Descent’, a couple of minutes of clicky tapping and wailing horns (or children) playing various descending motifs, joined by cello and deeper tones. A light finale to a album full of drama and interest. I’m not sure if this is live, but it has an improv feel, leaning more to the delicate side, and many moments of stark beauty.
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The kRkRkRk release is a live recording of some noise/drone artists from New Zealand, a nicely produced CD-r with a sheet insert for each act. At times you seem to be able to hear some sound from the audience, adding to the relaxed flavour. Each act gets around 10 minutes, which NoTV (Jaemz Robinson) uses for a three part piece ‘xxxxx’: it opens with a couple of minutes of kazoo, lightly echoed, laughing a melody, slips into a similar tune froma simple synth (sounding almost like the infamous Stylophone) and finally a synth and piano duet (although the piano had the sound of a short string guitar at one point, so I could be famously wrong) where each takes a turn to play at creating a melody while the other gets stuck in a sequence or loop.
Ed Wilson gives us ‘Linear B’ where blowy drones drown out talking (the dictaphone?) that develops into a crackle and then some quite dense noise, with guitar hints, battling a hum to the end, while ‘Ascii’ is a lyrical guitar strum, with brief explorations into guitar theatrics and some short string plinks. ‘Ionosphere Vs.1’ from Drawing Room (David Khan) opens with a rapid buzzcrackle puttering (that runs throughout, but gets lost halfway) with a cymbal solo; the base alone (some sort of processed sample) into which a shimmering whoosh grows into a rain storm that is heavy and continuous. Light tones develop and push the rain into the background, pulsing develops, it fades and you realise the original base is still there, and it fades out. Richard Neave ‘does not endorse these tracks’: ‘Unofficial 1 and 2’ are both noisy guitar picks and strums, the second with some harsher bits, but both energetic and a little noisy.
Polio (Peter Wright) create a shifting tonal soundwork over very loud party talking – a tape I assume. ‘Hearing aids 100301’ is structured as a series: blowy deep slowly pulsing tones; fuzzy tone and high pulsing; high whistle and harmonics; which then steps down through the frequencies; sireny flute, whistles and beeps; computer bleeps and whistles; telephone tones, rhythmic pulses and growling; high tone. And when it all stops, thunderous applause. And finally Kyn (Charles Horn) uses contact mikes, objects and sequencers to create 2 metallically resonant hollow pieces (‘100301 A & B’) with tapping noises, squeals, tones and pulses running through them.
A varied selection, although all within a noise-improv-lofi ballpark, probably reflecting the interests and direction of the label. It was intriguing to hear this more electronic side of Wright (closer to ‘Radioplay’), and the variety makes this an interesting album.
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Neck Doppler: Future Hits Vol.1
Naan Trax: Serious Naan
Consume Con 005 & 006
Neck Doppler/Straight Outta Mongolia: Sit Down / Complications
Mouthmoth Moth 12
Following on from the three Consume releases in 2001_19 by Eye And Ear Control, the mysterious Naan Trax and solo from the Doppler half (plus half a 7").
Going out of order, but with some inner reasons of review referencing logic to be revealed, let’s consider Naan Trax. It is the first non-E&EC or Doppler Consume release to pass by me, and is part of their broader directions (also, for example, to be seen in a compilation due early this year from participants in live Consume events). Serious Naan, ‘prepared and produced by LeNNy BasHee + ThE StaRe’ (yep – still random caps), remind me very strongly of the voice works on a stack of cds that Darrin Verhagen sold me: Cetaurs CDCM Computer Music Series; and with some nods towards the electroacoustic genre. Throughout the album voices – spoken or intoned – are processed, but also surrounded by computer blips, chords, twitters and expostulations that sound like further modulation of the voice – particularly in ‘Hunted’ which takes a mainly whispered narrative and entwines it with the modulations. The effect is to create a mysterious, haunting aura, a soundtrack to a tense suspenseful movie.
At either end a mainly instrumental track is paired with an explanatory one. ‘Hushush’ (1) builds from a simple looped bong and slight voice, adding tones and percussion that build in speed and volume to a wild climax before a shimmer of cymbals. After which ‘The theme from naan’ has an ‘evil’ processed voice talking about the Naan surrounded by the computer squiggles, and interrupted by short musical interludes (house piano, jazz): quite weird. At the other end ‘Hushush’ (2) is a short piece of echoed pings and brooding tones, followed by an untitled ‘narrative’ of voices and tones suggesting a Naan conspiracy that they can’t tell us more about.
In between the gho(a)stly dark naan is cooked: big organ and voice weave through densely layered tones bells susurrus structured chaos of ‘Random dancer’ a light melody emerging; plenty happens in the short ‘Organe stoop’ – a slowloop voice ‘bol evil’ over industrial rhythms gives way to a new orchestral loop, the first returns, sticks; a jumpy cd cut and then alternations and combinations. Dispersed random crackles, with noises behind, pulse through the first half of ‘Nothing but sarah’s father and a place for the children’ joined first by piano and then ticks that build. There seems to be some voice in there as more elements are added to the collage – rhythms whispering radio tones distant voices – all mysterious and confronting, shifting into tonal squiggles and finally a short burst of ‘Jerusalem’. ‘Black is the colour of my true love’s hair’ is a journey into madness: a pulsing organ and gravelly tones are an industrial landscape where a voice wanders meaninglessly; scraps of doggerel emerge, which are looped slowed repeated, a slow beat slides into a breathy tonal darkness, lightening but still spooky in the last few minutes. Claustrophobia draws in with ‘The devil of sneak’ where a modernist random tuned percussion plays over a loop of Goonish voices, deep tones slide back&forth into voices, a twittery whisper builds, psychotic mutterings, the percussion loops. Finally, before the return of ‘Hushush’, the relatively sparse experiment of ‘Hunted’.
The mood and colour of this album are strong, perhaps too strong for regular relaxed listening, but it is a very impressive electroacoustic, dark ambient album. 2002 promises interesting things from Consume.
Neck Doppler takes advantage of the ‘temporary dissolution’ of Eye And Ear Control to release an album that ‘expresses nothing but says everything’ and in which he explores a range of twisted pop-musical avenues. The opening track invokes us to ‘Listen to me’ with a generally threatening voice that slithers over a building instrumental bed of tuned percussion, keyboards and drums. Together with the later ‘Reekateeka’, which features a slow beat, whispering, fragmented keys, whistling, eruptions of sound and harpsichord before a swirly end, and ‘Degenerate’ (with laughter and a dense demented rhythm) these three tracks display a Naan-ishness – something about the mood but also the effects used on the vocal part – which make me suspect a ‘close collaboration’ between Messers Doppler and Bashee!
The other tracks wander down some quite different byways. ‘These people tonight’ is a bright techno-outing, quite groovy with keyboard solos, forceful rhythms and intoned vocals: it sounds sort of familiar, and could be a cover (the album is ‘decomposed and reconstructed’). Flakey jazz piano and scratchy vocals, accompanied by bloopy synths and games noises is interrupted by a gunfight and wild piano before returning for the end of ‘Motorbike man’. For an ‘Intermission’ (which we don’t get with 3 hour movies [ah, remember those days] but do for a 35 minute album) Doppler lays down some loungey relaxed piano, drums, tones propelled by a simple rhythm and some voice tones.
A jazzy feel is regained with ‘Doppler effect’ which has a ‘name’ rap (‘the sound of the neck’) mumbled over jagged drums, an electro scratch and tuned percussion: cool. The tuned percussion takes us on a weird samba-thang for ‘All coming back to me now’ which ebbs and flows around the keyboards, loops and distorted vocals. At the end of it all Doppler continues to ply us with a view on music which is a little twisted and a lot of fun. To be honest, I don’t expect to see the day when these tracks will be hits, but they are available to be consumed and enjoyed.
On their vinyl from Mothmouth, Doppler and SoM (previously heard in the Fencing Flatworm special) present a couple of warped pop songs. ‘Sit Down’ is apparently a James piece, unknown to me, which gets a consume-ate work over: nice beat and swishy sliding synth, drawly voice and honkytonk piano (a solo toy), all somewhat reminiscent of the Residents. Rattling noises behind, sliding squelched and distorted, and as the tune progresses it speeds up to a chipmunky madness [and sits well with Doppler’s ‘Hits’ album]. SoM’s piece is slow and teeters on the edge of recognisability, a catchy melody from a range of keyboards – harpsichord, deep woobles, electric piano, and a thin reedy voice singing about the complications. An attractive piece of plastic for those with turntables.
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And of course, all past issues, with hundreds of reviews, on site.
Copyright for these reviews remains with me, Jeremy Keens. Artists and labels are free to use and quote them as long as they acknowledge Ampersand and don’t mess with my words! And if anyone else happens to mention one of these reviews, do pass on the web address or my email address so new readers can find me. Thanks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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