Staubgold
I first became aware of Minit through a 7" on Tonschacht, a label whoseuniform white-on-black sleeves have since become trusted markers ofshort-form, lo-fidelity electroacoustic works from a new vanguard ofinternational artists. "Bootleg" was the label's first release, and itcaptured my eye mainly because of the note: "inspired by and conceivedfor Chicks on Speed." Based on the starkness of the sleeve design andartist name, I had expected a darker, more cynical version of Chicks'jaunty, metro-centric electro. I wanted to hear a song like their"Night of the Pedestrian" stripped of its role-play humor and takeninto the streets for real; I
wantedMinit to take electroclash from hot pink heels back to Suicide country,back to rhythms cold and gritty, stuck against the city's pulse. Thisdid not happen exactly. Minit sound nothing like Chicks on Speed.Instead, they play densely textured, drone-based music structuredgenerally around trad Minimalist ideas of simple and understatedmelody. Latticed field captures, robust organic loops, and stackedsynthetic vibrations combine to create immersive environments ofcertain constancy, but within which textural breakthroughs do occur.Like most works with a tendency towards explicit Minimalism, apart-for-the-whole aesthetic is available here, and any section ofthese four lengthy songs has potential to reveal a small, shimmeringworld of harmonic variations and sliding, evaporating tones. Tocontradictory effect, the music (especially the title track) also seemsto move towards specific melodic ascensions, approaching, at severalplaces, throbbing arabesques fit for a full orchestra. These betrayalsof subtlety, these breaks in the level planes created by so muchtextural detailing, create the unique paradox that helps Minit standout in a glut of like-minded musicians and becomes the only plausibleparallel to Chicks on Speed, a group whose success certainly relies onparadox and odd juxtaposition. For all its stasis and flat expanses,
Now Right Heredoes not shy away from easily emotive forms, often leading songs intothe kind of swelling, post-rock flirtations associated with people likeGodspeed You Black Emperor!. Bits of
Now Right Here remind me of the overpowering-yet-concise melancholy of William Basinski's
Disintegration Loops.However, rather than keeping these moments of catharsis containedbehind the ever-widening sense of loss and distance that is unavoidablein the Basinski pieces, Minit works through a kind of reverse processin which the grandiose sections are slowly pieced together almost likeby-products of the music's droning surface play. The peaks or"destinations" in Minit's music are always anticipated though neverquite required, a special quality that keeps their records fresh forrevisiting and more than makes up for the relative familiarity of thegroup's sound. (It's worth mentioning also that two of this disc's fourtracks appeared on two recent Australian-scene compilations,
Variable Resistance and
Motion, though this one is probably worth checking out for its 20-minute title cut alone).
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