Posts Tagged ‘Layers’

Kranky – 13th October 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

One thing I’ve learned as I’ve grown older (apart from the fact you never grow younger, despite the fact that I was amused to recently stumble upon the ‘people also ask’ Google question prompt ‘Is Benjamin Button a true story?’), is that a diversified appreciation of music is particularly useful as you come to recognise the diversified nuances of mood. Adherents to a single genre: how do they deal? How do they find the right soundtrack?

I’m not previously familiar with the music of Justin Walter, but the accompanying notes inform me that it ‘veers between nebulous and numinous, coaxed from the translucent tonalities of his signature instrument, the EVI (Electronic Valve Instrument)’ and that ‘Destroyer, his latest, and third for Kranky, marks his most multifaceted work yet. Inspired by minimalistic urges (evading grandiosity, condensing scope, embracing spatial restraint) tempered with the drama of triptychs (becoming, destruction, aftermath), the album’s 11 tracks thread.’

If the album’s title implies aggression and obliteration, it’s overtly organic analogue synth vibes are quite the opposite. That isn’t to say it’s all shades of mellowness, because Walter weaves in extraneous noise and all sorts and messes with the dials to render soft tones bent and broken, twisted and warped to create a less than silky-smooth air of tranquillity at times. But at others, there are some simply magnificent passages where you feel calm and at ease. The title track is exemplary: it’s an ambient work at heart, soft, supple, gentle, but with serrated edges and spiny burrs that occasionally break through the surface.

Walter obviously has a clear sense of flow. The eleven pieces on Destroyer flow seamlessly from one to the next, and as a consequence, Destroyer feels like an album, despite the contrasts which present themselves across the work. The flow begins with an instant attention-grab in the wibbly shape of ‘For Us’, which blasts in with a blaring drone over which phasey noodles tangle over in ever-increasing layers with adrenalizing effect. While the majority of the album is rather softer, a defining feature of the composition is the exploration of interplay between tones and timbres and the notes their timings gradually shift to create the subtlest of tensions. This is particularly noticeable duribg the second half of the album, which feels slower, softer, and more soporific than the first half. Close your eyes, exhale slowly, and you really start to absorb Destroyer. And you have every reason to do that.

‘Cliff the Cloudcatcher’ is a gentle, bubbling synth piece, while the eight-minute ‘Inner Voices’ is a mellifluous movement in many directions simultaneously, which pulls together to take form, becoming graceful, and in places the sounds mimic woodwind, but sculpted into something otherly… backwards, perhaps, and the sounds bend and push and pull – gently, but they do – before a darker turn around two minutes in brings shade, clouds thickening and becoming denser.

Destroyer distinguishes itself from so many other ambient-orientated works by virtue of its dynamics. There are some thick, tones and dense blankets of noise which present themselves, often emerging from cloud-like drifts of near-nothing. But these moments of rising tension resolve to easy washes and ripples of sound, to cloud-like softness.

And this is the album’s real accomplishment, in that is balances many shades, many tones, many textures. Those darker passages serve to remind that life isn’t all easy or plain sailing, and that plans can go wrong. You can set the controls for plain sailing, but there will always be disturbance, disruption. Whatever you plan or expect, there will always be deviation.

AA

114931

2nd November 2018

Christopher Nosnibor

Not so long ago, I began a review by saying I felt sorry for Jo Quail. That was no slight on her musical output, but an observation that as incredible performer, it seemed wrong that she should be put on so early that her set was a third of the way through before the doors even opened. On listening to Exsolve, my awe of her musicianship is greater than ever, which only renders the injustice worse. To get the point: this is an incredible album, a triumph of musicianship and vision in tandem to create something not only greater than the sum of the parts, but beyond imagination.

The accompanying press release informs us that Exsolve is comprised of three tracks, with each one being broken down in to sections and movements across 45 minutes. Mastered by James Griffiths, himself a film composer, there is, the blurb notes, an almost symphonic quality to the album. This is true, but there is so, so much more, much of which defies conventional description: it speaks not to the domain of words, but the psyche.

The bald facts are that Jo Quail plays cello, and does so through a raft of effects to create sounds a million light years removed from the cello, looping bangs on the mic to create thunderous percussion and conjuring eerie moans and grating tempests of sound. The result is pretty heavy, not to mention intense.

Eight minutes into ‘Forge of Two Forms’, Quail is conjuring blistering interweaving prog riffs against a swirling backdrop of noise and thumping beats. Epic doesn’t come close. It sounds like a full band pushing into new realms of enormity, and with a blistering distorted picked motif that sounds like a crisply-executed lead guitar line, it’s easy to forget just how this music is made. Twelve minutes in, it’s tapered down to nothing and actually sounds like subdued, low-tempo orchestral dronings, creeping atmospherics and melancholy. The transitions are seamless, invisible, but definite as the extended soundworks transition between segments.

‘Mandrel Cantus’ sends sonar echoes across low, slow ripples of mellow cadences, and somehow builds into a monumental emulation of a guitar solo of monumental proportions. How did this happen? From whence did this immense sound emerge?

Everything coalesces on the third and final composition, ‘Causleens Wheel’ which begins delicately, builds to a rolling, roiling, sustained crescendo. It’s a multi-faceted composition, tonally rich and also moving, not just by force but by expression.

Powerful, graceful, compelling and dramatic, Exsolve is a remarkable album of rare quality.

AA

Jo Quail - Exsolve