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GREG DAVIS, "SOMNIA"
Kranky
Greg Davis has illuminated the link between sound and light. Perhaps,when the universe was first unfolding, the explosions sounded like buzzsaws or pure white noise, but when the heavens came to be and from itsconvulsions the universe produced stars and angels, the sound generatedmust've been close to the music on Somnia.I hesitate to lump this record in with any group of individualscurrently practicing the Zen of protracted sound because Davis' musicflutters and ripples with hints of melody and harmony more so thanfound sounds or textured moments. This must be related to Davis'recording process: take one instrument per track, fool around with it,and then process the sounds produced by that instrument until there islittle or no resemblance between what comes out and what went in. Whileprocessing and editing has become a typical means of producingmeditative and molasses-like sounds, Davis manages to create somethingunique. The vibrations of these songs feel as though they are a slowcondensing, a trace of some event happening beyond our perception,beyond possible memory or direct experience. What is left, tracks like"Clouds as Edges (version 3 edit)" and "Campestral (version 2)," echo asentiment of impossibility: I want to reach through the process andback to the original sound. A sense of wonder and mystery is nearlyalways present when I hear a good drone record and Davis has addedemotional dimensions that work on a few levels. "Furnace" sweeps andrises with an incessant yearning that nearly erupts from between theseams of the accordion-like buzz that dominates the composition."Mirages (version 2)" is the most attention-grabbing track on thealbum, whispering and ringing softly as though it were a recording ofwind-chimes on an island not touched by any human individual. Thecascade of ideas and associations that swim and die within the soundsthemselves is infinite—the album takes on a life of its own and extendsthrough space like a slowly rattling thread, each moment evoking adifferent sense, and different thought, and a different sentiment. Tothe extent that this is a musical record, Davis shapes subtle andnearly fragile pieces teeming with beauty. To the extent that this is ameans of looking past the distinctions between energy, material, time,and light, Davis, perhaps unknowingly, provides medium capable ofshining a light on the existence that is beyond experience and tangiblesensation. -
Greg Davis has illuminated the link between sound and light. Perhaps,when the universe was first unfolding, the explosions sounded like buzzsaws or pure white noise, but when the heavens came to be and from itsconvulsions the universe produced stars and angels, the sound generatedmust've been close to the music on Somnia.I hesitate to lump this record in with any group of individualscurrently practicing the Zen of protracted sound because Davis' musicflutters and ripples with hints of melody and harmony more so thanfound sounds or textured moments. This must be related to Davis'recording process: take one instrument per track, fool around with it,and then process the sounds produced by that instrument until there islittle or no resemblance between what comes out and what went in. Whileprocessing and editing has become a typical means of producingmeditative and molasses-like sounds, Davis manages to create somethingunique. The vibrations of these songs feel as though they are a slowcondensing, a trace of some event happening beyond our perception,beyond possible memory or direct experience. What is left, tracks like"Clouds as Edges (version 3 edit)" and "Campestral (version 2)," echo asentiment of impossibility: I want to reach through the process andback to the original sound. A sense of wonder and mystery is nearlyalways present when I hear a good drone record and Davis has addedemotional dimensions that work on a few levels. "Furnace" sweeps andrises with an incessant yearning that nearly erupts from between theseams of the accordion-like buzz that dominates the composition."Mirages (version 2)" is the most attention-grabbing track on thealbum, whispering and ringing softly as though it were a recording ofwind-chimes on an island not touched by any human individual. Thecascade of ideas and associations that swim and die within the soundsthemselves is infinite—the album takes on a life of its own and extendsthrough space like a slowly rattling thread, each moment evoking adifferent sense, and different thought, and a different sentiment. Tothe extent that this is a musical record, Davis shapes subtle andnearly fragile pieces teeming with beauty. To the extent that this is ameans of looking past the distinctions between energy, material, time,and light, Davis, perhaps unknowingly, provides medium capable ofshining a light on the existence that is beyond experience and tangiblesensation. -
