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Nels Cline & Devin Sarno, "Buried on Bunker Hill"
Loud is the new quiet and vice versa.
Ground Fault
I came to Nels Cline's work by way of the Geraldine Fibbers and I had never heard any of Devin Sarno before, but I was expecting "Buried on Bunker Hill" to be something of a free-jazz style improvised guitar and bass workout. What I got instead was a thick, syrupy collection of drones and crackles and ebbing waves of distortion that is equal parts menacing dark noise and plaintive restrained ambience. If Subharmonic were still issuing their duet series that featured solo guitarists (Justin Broaderick, Page Hamilton, Thurston Moore, etc.) let loose for a side of a record to make any and all amount of noise they wished with their axe of choice, Buried on Bunker Hill would be a crowning achievement to a novel and intentionally limited approach. Where layered guitar and bass improvisational noise often fails me is in its creators' lack of ability to move from one point to another and then another with enough momentum as to seem organic and evolving. Cline and Sarno thankfully don't have that problem here, as they consistently build up to crests of deep, haunting noise and then flow back down to quiet moments that only suggest the power lurking underneath their arrangements. There's relatively little resembling the traditional timbres of the instruments used to make these songs, but when the recognizable guitar phrases surface as on "Only Peace," the atmosphere fades a bit to the background to give the stringed voices a chance to shine. Interestingly, Ground Fault founder Erik Hoffman was himself not sure of how this record could be classified based on his self-imposed series system (I=quiet, II=medium, III=loud) and initially released it as a part of the 'quiet' series. It is frequently quiet and loud and somewher in between so Hoffman's later admission that the record is more of a 'medium' probably makes the most sense. Buried on Bunker Hill is diverse but focused; it's dark but often tranquil and it winds up as the kind of record you can listen to quietly if you want to have some distracting noise in the background, or that you can listen to at full volume if you want to tremble before the monolithic force of echoing sounds crashing over you.
I came to Nels Cline's work by way of the Geraldine Fibbers and I had never heard any of Devin Sarno before, but I was expecting "Buried on Bunker Hill" to be something of a free-jazz style improvised guitar and bass workout. What I got instead was a thick, syrupy collection of drones and crackles and ebbing waves of distortion that is equal parts menacing dark noise and plaintive restrained ambience. If Subharmonic were still issuing their duet series that featured solo guitarists (Justin Broaderick, Page Hamilton, Thurston Moore, etc.) let loose for a side of a record to make any and all amount of noise they wished with their axe of choice, Buried on Bunker Hill would be a crowning achievement to a novel and intentionally limited approach. Where layered guitar and bass improvisational noise often fails me is in its creators' lack of ability to move from one point to another and then another with enough momentum as to seem organic and evolving. Cline and Sarno thankfully don't have that problem here, as they consistently build up to crests of deep, haunting noise and then flow back down to quiet moments that only suggest the power lurking underneath their arrangements. There's relatively little resembling the traditional timbres of the instruments used to make these songs, but when the recognizable guitar phrases surface as on "Only Peace," the atmosphere fades a bit to the background to give the stringed voices a chance to shine. Interestingly, Ground Fault founder Erik Hoffman was himself not sure of how this record could be classified based on his self-imposed series system (I=quiet, II=medium, III=loud) and initially released it as a part of the 'quiet' series. It is frequently quiet and loud and somewher in between so Hoffman's later admission that the record is more of a 'medium' probably makes the most sense. Buried on Bunker Hill is diverse but focused; it's dark but often tranquil and it winds up as the kind of record you can listen to quietly if you want to have some distracting noise in the background, or that you can listen to at full volume if you want to tremble before the monolithic force of echoing sounds crashing over you.samples:
