21 September 2014

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Albums and Singles

As Terence Hannum's primary project Locrian continues its transition from a small drone project to a more diverse and recognizable behemoth on a large label, recording in major studios, Via Negativa thematically functions as a "remembering his roots" record. Recorded alone in his basement studio, the DIY ethos of his early days is obviously present, but the music is as professional as it comes.

Utech

This "look back" concept has been a part of Hannum's visual work as of late as well, some of which adorns the gatefold of this LP.The patterns and images created from cutting up magnetic cassette tape is surely no accident:Hannum and I are the same age, and I can only assume it is a conscious effort to revisit the de facto audio format of his youth.

In the same way, the three pieces that make up this album (with a fourth digital bonus one that would not fit on the LP) follow the same theme.Retreating to his basement with synth collection in tow, the sound of this record is unsurprisingly reminiscent of parts of Locrian proper.It works like the distillation of the keyboard heavy progressive rock tendencies of that band, one that has never shied away from name checking early Genesis and King Crimson in their influences.Also, I cannot help but visualize Hannum standing behind his racks of gear, complete with a homemade gold lamé cape to fully channel his inner Rick Wakeman.

The lead piece, "Become More, Become Less" (undoubtedly another variation on the album’s theme) introduces the album with an appropriate darkness.Spooky electronic noises and deep bass mix with Hannum's monastic chanting, his voice acting as an additional instrument than vocals in the traditional sense.The intentional dark and creepy vibe is fitting, and the piece ends with a tasteful elongated synth drone.

The mood and tone varies by the time "If Only You Knew What Darkness I am Plunged Into" comes around.Retaining the deep bass with shimmering keyboard waves, I was reminded of the electronic score to Apocalypse Now and hints of John Carpenter’s classic 1980s soundtracks.Minimalism and repetition feature heavy throughout its near 16 minutes, but the subtle variations and use of vocals result in a minimalism that is clearly artistic direction and not laziness by any means.

"Unapproachable Light," on the other side of the record, has a most befitting title.Working with heavy church organ passages and rich, complex surges of sound, a holy music vibe is prominent throughout the piece, akin to Arvo Pärt loading up on electronics rather than writing classical-focused compositions.The digital-only "The Ideal Forms" comes off as an extension of this.More immediate in its intensity, the mix of subtlety and monolithic walls of sound is powerful, and builds to a dramatic conclusion.

Hannum's influences shine through clearly on Via Negativa, a throwback album that manages to not at all bask in self-importance or pretense.Locrian have not hit that Spinal Tap-esque misdirection that often precedes a release of this nature, nor do I think things will take that turn for the trio.Instead, it is strong work that does what a good solo album should, namely showcase the individual's contributions to a band, and take that in directions that may not fit in the main project.

samples:

• Become More, Become Less
• If Only You Knew What Darkness I am Plunged Into
• Unapproachable Light

 

21 September 2014

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Respectfully revisiting the early sounds defined the second wave of industrial, the one associated with the likes of Skinny Puppy and KMFDM, this Texas duo’s penchant for vintage sounds and minimalist structures definitely show their influences. The songs merge together into a delightfully gray, meandering bit of rhythmic industrial music that is tastefully understated but never dull.

Nostilevo

The first half of this tape is the one that has the rougher approach, mixing simple sequences and drum machine programs that plod along (in a good way), lingering long enough to blend together hypnotically, but never so long as to become boring or monotonous."Restricted Area," for example, has the duo sticking to a bass synth led structure, mixed with thick, heavy beats.It does not diverge much from this arrangement, but stays engaging throughout its three and a half minute duration.

The major touchstones of Corporate Park's influences are never too oblique:their penchant for cheap, tight springy reverbs instantly reminded me of Esplendor Geometrico but with significantly distortion, and on "Too Expensive to Live," a far more relaxed, calm demeanor compared to EG’s relentless, pummeling electronic assault.

"Pillow Talk" emphasizes on the same sort of production, but with its diverse array of sounds and oddly processed vocals, I felt more of a kinship with the earliest Skinny Puppy demos from Back and Forth, conjuring the same bleakness and lurking menace."Pundit Mantra" might be shrouded in distortion that makes it sound very much of the genre, yet not specifically reminiscent of any one artist, with the added multi-layered dialog samples expanding that vintage 1980s feel.

On the final two songs, the duo diversifies their approach a bit more."Mise En Abyme" is built upon more conventional drum sounds and programming, with the remainder largely made up of pulsing bass synth and random bleeps and synth chirps.Structurally repetitive, the addition of heavily processed and muffled vocals that are treated enough to sound human, but remain largely indecipherable make it memorable.The short closing "Firmament" features a simple, almost naked sounding drum machine with expansive, droning synths, resulting in a more ambient work.At just a hair over two minutes, it ends up expansive piece compared to the tighter, more rhythmic focused ones, and it works great as an ending.

I know this resurgence in early industrial/EBM smacks of a trend, and based on the number of reviews I have written in the past couple years mentioning this, it is obviously one that I am fully on board with.The influences that shine through heavily with the likes of Corporate Park (and High-Functioning Flesh and Pure Ground, amongst others) are ones that date back to my formative years of pursuing more unconventional music, and thus I will always have an affinity for them.Maybe I have just been lucky, but as of now I have not encountered any projects that have turned me off from this resurgence, and Corporate Park continues that trend of mixing quality and familiarity.

samples:

• Pillow Talk
• Too Expensive to Live
• Firmament

 

08 September 2014

Duncan Edwards

Albums and Singles

Ziguri's debut album, produced by Schneider TM, blends smooth and powerful motorik monotony, babbling vocals, and also dares to set Thomas Pynchon lyrics to music.

Bureau B

In 1987, Günter Schickert, Udo Erdenreich and Dieter Kölsch, from the Berlin theater 100Fleck, formed Ziguri Ego Zoo, a musical theater project which soon became the group Ziguri. They played together until 1997 but the trio reformed in 2011 and their close understanding is the key factor in the success of this recording. Another is Günter Schickert, a well known innovator of hypnotic and psychedelic music. He and Manuel Göttsching are among the figures pioneering the use of echo guitar and his solo albums Samtvogel (1974) and Überfällig (1979) are revered cult classics.

The opening piece, "General Klickman," begins with an aggressive, garagey riff to build a raw tension, evolves into a slower and more medieval-sounding sombreness, and then repeats. The five tracks mainly consist of passages of driving drumbeats and bass lines, over which floats Schickert's trancey guitar. Here and there, short bursts of speed-gibberish chant match the urban-tribal atmosphere of the music.

Stuck splendidly in the middle of this album is "Yoyodyne," a daring manifestation of Pynchon's spoof of brainwashed industrial devotion in the employee chant of the Yoyodyne corporation. Ziguri gets the balance between inane, bawdy, sinister, and paranoid, just right. Pynchon's experiences working as a technical writer at Boeing, in Seattle, inspired the fictional defense contractor Yoyodyne corporation in his books V. (1963) and The Crying of Lot 49 (1966). Well-named, too, since the "dyne" is the standard unit of force in the centimeter-gram-second system of units, derived from the Greek word dynamis, and hence real companies, such as Teledyne, Teradyne, and Rocketdyne (an aerospace company) have existed.

One theme of Pynchon's work is the concept of entropy, but almost thirty years since their formation Ziguri seem to fly in the face of that by still prospering and honing their sound, rather than decaying. I was a bit wary of a group named after the peyote cactus which contains mescaline, since drug use is duller to me than tupperware parties. Thankfully, Kölsch-Schickert-Erdenreich revels in a good kind of monotony. Or, to tweak the words of G.K.Chesterton: "monotony, either in its sensation or its infliction, is simply the quality of a person. There are no dreary sounds; there are only dreary sound hearers."

 

 

07 September 2014

Administrator

Albums and Singles

The title of this (surprisingly first) recorded collaboration between Akita and Duncan certainly conjures images of similarly titled works that are regarded for their brilliance (Prince), or drastic shifts for the worst (Metallica). Other than the fact that it is the first work between these two legendary artists, it does not carry the same monolithic weight sonically. It is, however, still a powerful collaboration that reflects both artists’ strengths quite well.

Tourette

Details and specifics are scant on this LP, with three untitled pieces (one comprising the entire A side, the other two on the flip) and the only bit of credits specifying the two worked with Duncan’s recordings of the Gran Sasso Nuclear Laboratory.That alone of course arouses curiosity.The A side is a swarm of stammering, stuttering glitches and surging bits of noise.It takes on a sort of insane, malfunctioning computer feel with shrill squeaks and erratic bursts.

It obviously is dissonant and seemingly formless, but the amount of layering and variety and moderate volume levels make it completely listenable.As it goes on it becomes a wet, sloppy series of bursts.The ending focuses more on crunchy noises and tactile textures.

The first piece on the B-side ends up being more traditionally harsh noise in its composition.Layers of grinding, scraping, and sputtering noises stay relatively constant as it goes on.The sound is not as erratic or messy as the other side, instead has a nice, tight feel and flow to it.Between this and the crackly passages of static, it stays engaging rather than becoming a test of endurance.

The other piece harkens back to the skittering glitches of the A side, but with a deep echoing throb and high pitched, sharp and spiny layer.With these elements encasing around a heavy machinery-like drone (perhaps the untreated source material), it is almost a boisterous piece of ambient music, giving needed space and smoothness later on.

The monochromatic title of Akita & Duncan's work might hide the actual diversity of sound here, but the unique packaging and artwork does anything but.The stark black cover features a nice die cut job via a shotgun blast, revealing the bold, glossy pink inner sleeve.Within that sleeve the vinyl sits nicely in its intensely green glory.It might not reinvent the wheel, but it is a high water mark in both artists’ discographies, and is a befitting, complex work from two distinguished composers.

samples:

• Untitled 1
• Untitled 2
• Untitled 3

 

07 September 2014

Administrator

Albums and Singles

At first I was not sure how this box set slipped by me when it was released last year, but then I remember this is Merzbow we are talking about. He puts out more boxes in a year than most artists do single albums. This is one, however, that should not have gone overlooked. As indicated by the title, this is Masami Akita not alone, but with Kiyoshi Mizutani, and consists of ten discs of raw improvised sessions recorded between 1987 and 1989. Deeply entrenched in the Akita’s junk noise phase, it a sprawling, yet captivating document of the best years of Merzbow.

Tourette

These sessions acted as raw materials for some Merzbow releases of the era, such as S.C.U.M., but here are recordings without the tape edits or further processing.This is just two men and a slew of instruments (traditional and otherwise) improvising in the studio for hours.Because of that, it does inch towards overkill since it documents the source material that was intended for further treatments.It is a voluminous collection (well over ten hours), but taken in bite sized chunks remains extremely enjoyable.

At times, the recordings come together more like extremely unconventional free jazz:"Duo 1987" is a blend of harshly bowed strings that could almost be manic duck calls with junky percussion.The combination almost resembles a horn/drum duo as far as sound goes, but is far more dissonant and pleasantly ugly."1 May 1988 A" has the same feel, but this time via rapid guitar noodling and rhythmic variations.Finally, "20 September 1987" is another bird of the jazz feather.What sounds like a bass guitar and random metal percussion paired up as if Akita and Mizutani tried to recreate Ornette Coleman's "Free Jazz" with whatever they could find at a junkyard.After a bit of organization they give up and just bang away jovially, with a loose and almost fun vibe to be had.

Other skewed attempts at making music show up throughout the set as well.The second part of "16 April 1989" leans not into jazz, but rock.What begins with someone screwing around on a guitar and a percussion section that sounds like flicking an empty soda can builds into a full on improvised guitar and drum performance, leading into a mass of sludgy stoner metal.The bit of straight up "music" works brilliantly amongst the otherwise pure dissonance and noise that has characterized Merzbow.

As expected, much of the recordings in this set are less structured and more chaotic masses of sound.Due to the duo working with a wide variety of instruments and effects, however, it never devolves into the mass of distortion pedal generated dull roar that blended much of Merzbow's output in the 1990s into a dull blur.High pitched feedback and electronic bursts on "19 June 1988 Part 1" are quite harsh, but the noisy metal percussion gives it additional depth.The second half of the piece accentuates the more piercing noises into a painfully shrill work without any clearly discernible source as far as instrumentation goes.

Metal scraping and distorted effects make up much of "25 June 1988 A", but the layering and density is not as intense, and with the addition of guitar it is more diverse than contemporary work from Akita."9 October 1989 Part 3" features the same array of cheap, probably broken effects pedals, with an almost sitar-like passage and a wonderfully sloppy start/stop structure that helps it to stand out.

The limited Art Edition of the Duo box features an 11th disc that is a bit odd compared to the rest, dating back to November 1979.While it is pretty far removed from the rest of the set's timeline, it still is a collaborative recording between the two.With Akita on drums and Mizutani manning the keyboards, it is a 41 minute improv that may be a bit self-indulgent, but its transitions from jazz to disco and into psychedelic rock are fascinating, even more so considering what Akita has been involved in for the 35 years since then.

Masami Akita's work as Merzbow from the project’s inception until the late 1980s has always grabbed my attention the most diverse and engaging.For that reason, I was extremely eager to hear this set, and was not disappointed.The variety of sounds and instrumentation is so much more pleasing and captivating than his later penchant to just crank a bunch of pedals up as loud as possible and repeating for hours.Essentially being unedited, it might lack the focused impact of Ecobondage or Batztoutai With Material Gadgets, but the untreated recordings are fascinating in their own right.Unquestionably one of the top tier Merzbow releases of all time.

samples:

• 20 September 1987
• 25 June 1988 A
• 16 April 1989 (Part Two)

 

07 September 2014

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Although released concurrently with Tombs by Denovali, Loss is actually London engineer/musician Tim Garratt's second effort as Moon Zero.  While it shares Tombs’ unique approach of being composed and recorded entirely in an empty church, Loss is the fruit of Garratt's attempt to transform his aesthetic into something that he could perform live, resulting in a much more muscular, rhythmic approach without sacrificing much of the ghostly ambience that made his earlier compositions so compelling.  At its best, Loss resembles something like a rawer and more spontaneous Tim Hecker with a few very cool tricks up his sleeve.

Denovali

The opening "Youth" captures Garratt at his most Hecker-esque, as a muted, melancholy organ melody floats like a fog while an escalating rumble builds beneath it and ghostly swells start to reverberate from the church's walls (the church being London's St. George in the East).  Ultimately, the piece builds to an impressively shuddering roar before quickly dissipating at the perfect moment, achieving an impressive convergence of mood, texture, and dynamics.  The following piece, "Nosema Cerenae," is an increasingly sinister-sounding bit of organ drone that fleetingly recalls Charlemagne Palestine or Catherine Christer Hennix, though Tim beautifully embellishes that intentional/unintentional homage with a roiling bass rumble, some fierce crackle, buried snatches of angelic vocals, and–most brilliantly–a brief surge of deep, absolutely tortured-sounding noise snarl.  As a whole, "Nosema" is not quite as strong as "Youth," but the demonic, overloaded noise snarl might stand as the best single moment on the album, as it feels like something deeply unholy is trying to tear its way out of my speakers.

Garratt nicely escalates the momentum for the second half with "Lara Witchcraft," where he quickly transforms pulsing synth and organ rhythm into something that resembles a lumbering, massive machine-noise waltz that is always precariously on the verge of tearing itself apart. After that impressive show of force, Loss winds down its conclusion with its longest piece, "The Industrial Sadness," which clocks in at around 8-minutes of deep, throbbing synth hum beneath a series of forlorn moans.  To my ears, it is by far the EP's weakest piece, as there is not any melody or chord progression to speak of–just a whole lot of vaguely eerie sci-fi atmosphere and some impressively heavy machine crunch near the end.  Unfortunately, all that power goes to waste, as it is not used to bolster an already compelling motif nor does it become particularly hypnotic or transform into something else.  It just escalates in force, then abruptly ends.

"The Industrial Sadness" aside, however, Loss is a damn near perfect effort (albeit quite a brief one), as each of the first three pieces is powerful, distinctive, unpredictable, and deftly executed.Tim Garratt clearly knows how to get the most out of an idea and has an intuitive knack for exploiting a single strong motif and ending the piece before it starts to drag. Also, while a number of clear influences come to mind, Tim definitely uses them a mere jumping-off point rather than as a template (and I seem to like all of the same artists that he does, which helps too).  Probably Garratt's greatest achievement here, however, is his work as a producer/engineer.  Recording in a church means far more than just getting some great natural reverb, as the unusual acoustics can easily swallow some sounds, unexpectedly sharpen others, or cause various parts of the church to intensely vibrate at certain frequencies.  Despite that, Garratt somehow managed to wrangle all those untamed site-specific acoustics into something that sounds deliberate, massive, and visceral on a home stereo.  That must have taken forever, but it was worth the effort.

• Youth
• Nosema Ceranae
• Lara Witchcraft

 

07 September 2014

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Although I absolutely loved 2011's Crossing the Pass, By Torchlight album, I had a hard time keeping up with the flood of divergent releases Brian Pyle has unleashed over the last year or so.  As far as I can tell, however, Melt Into Nothing continues along Fever Logic’s path towards darkwave and '80s goth, which is a very curious move.  As noted by Denovali, that arguably makes this Pyle’s most accessible album, but only because it has some vocals and occupies a niche that some people are interested in right now.  In a broader sense, however, I think Brian's weirder, more abstract material is much more attention-grabbing and rewarding than any of the mostly forgotten bands that he is paying homage to here.  That said, Pyle is not one to go for mere pastiche and he still managed to strikes gold with at least one piece.

Denovali

That one unquestionable success, "Your Lips Against Mine," conveniently opens the album.  In a broad sense, it is not terribly different from the rest of the album, approximating a dreamy/hazy/shoegazy take on melancholy 4AD-style goth pop, but the presence of guests DenMother and Sophia Hamadi make a dramatic difference hook-wise.  DenMother's soft vocals, for example, imbue the piece with a very sensuous (if bleary) Romanticism, while Sophia Hamadi's burbling, ascending synth motif gives the piece a propulsive sense of forward motion.  If Pyle were completely absent, it would probably still be a perfectly enjoyable bit of synthpop heaven.  Taking a good song and then Brian Pyle-ing the hell out of it seems to be an excellent recipe for success, but that first bit is generally missing for rest of the album.  Pyle tends to work best when he has a collaborator or creative foil, as he does in his new Naked Islands project–he is definitely more of an idea man/studio wizard than a hit machine.

Unfortunately, Brian's collaborators are generally absent for rest of Melt, which proves to be a bit exasperating: the textures and details are often quite wonderful, but they tend to be in service of pieces that sound like lesser bands from a '90s Projekt compilation.  For the most part, the remaining songs are a hookless array of near-instrumentals featuring plodding drum machine rhythms, funereal organs, echoing guitars, and a bleary haze of heavily processed vocals and subtly employed field recordings.  "Fade For Miles" comes closest to being an actual song, as it features a comparatively upbeat groove and fairly prominent vocals, though Brian's singing is too floating and hallucinatory to approximate anything like a melody or hook.  There are some nice touches though, as the guitar moans sound wonderfully tortured and the drums unexpectedly become backwards near the end.  I just wish there was more actual content to the song.  "Make Out in the GDR" is another stand-out, bolstered by eerie female dialogue snippets, warped synth, and gnarled guitars.  Again, however, it is far more of a stylistic triumph than a great song.

The remaining songs are all different flavors of "dirge," though the woozy, narcotic guitars in "Hey Baby" constitute another minor album highlight.  Ultimately, however, Melt Into Nothing is a somewhat disappointing and frustrating effort as whole, particularly after such a promising opening.  I suppose Pyle's goth pastiches are a bit better and more imaginative than most music in that vein, but they are not nearly as compelling as the better Ensemble Economique albums.  Though this will probably appeal to some other people a lot more than it resonates with me, this no-man's land between abstract experimentalism and retro-goth is not a particularly fertile place for Brian's impressive talent to flourish.

• Your Lips Against Mine
• Make-Out in the GDR
• Fade For Miles

 

07 September 2014

Administrator

Albums and Singles

What began as a lighter side project to Richard Chartier’s more academic work under his own name has evolved into its own distinct entity. Featuring some high profile vocal collaborations, including William Basinski, Cosey Fanni Tutti, and Kid Congo Powers, Description of Problem has Chartier expanding his kitchy project even further, into a dark, sexy album that adds another glittering jewel into his discography.

LINE Segments

At times, PCP stays somewhat close to Chartier's own work.Opener "Description of Problem/More Everything", with Aurora Liminalis collaborator William Basinski appearing via voicemail, is not too far removed from what appeared on that album:glistening, shiny melodies and electronic interference in an otherworldly haze.The lower fidelity moments and sampled voices are what gives it a distinct character compared to his other works."Perfunctory Attachments," the only one here that is Chartier alone, follows a similar pattern and style.The voice samples and haunting melody ensures it remains distinct from his other material, but his expert use of understated electronics is clearly present.

One of the most significant developments from the previous PCP albums comes on "Our Story," featuring vocals by AGF.The piece retains the Valium haze of the other album, but here Chartier employs an almost percussive bass throb that evolves into a crunchy, distorted pulse.The appearance of scattered melodic shards in the beginning and end keeps it clearly a PCP release, but his flirtations with rhythm are refreshing.

The album's centerpiece is a dark and captivating collaboration with Cosey Fanni Tutti titled "Boundlessly (for M. Heyer)".Chartier keeps the noises low and rumbly throughout, with creepy bits of melody and crumbling sound textures that enhance the impact of her voice.Cosey’s spoken vocals are hushed and intimate, and while the content of the lyrics may be disturbing, she brings an undeniable sensual mood that is beautifully matched with the lush electronic backing.

Gun Club/Cramps member Kid Congo Powers appears on a reworking of PCP’s "iamaphotograph (darkroomversion)", which appeared previously on Please Pick Up.On here it is pulled apart and disjointed even more, with Powers' male voice standing out forcefully in the contexts of the otherwise feminine voices that dominate the album.The result is an ugly and intimidating bit of animus amongst the anima that comprises Description of Problem.Even though it is more fragmented in comparison, it has the same dark filthy ambience that characterized the previous versions, and takes downright sonically evil turn at the end.

The aesthetic Richard Chartier has developed as Pinkcourtesyphone may bear little resemblance to the serious, scholarly work that he issues under his own name, but it features the same level of compositional skill and complexity that sounds like no other.The underlying theme of vintage camp and ennui results in an juxtaposition with the dark sexuality and hints of sleaze that permeate the album, resulting in a genius reality versus fantasy pairing befitting the 1950s housewife sensibility PCP has featured heavily in his albums thus far.

samples:

• Description of Problem (with William Basinski)/More Everything
• Our Story (with AGF)
• Boundlessly (for M. Heyer) (with Cosey Fanni Tutti)

 

01 September 2014

Administrator

Albums and Singles

John Everall's name will be familiar to many long-time readers of Brainwashed. He was first known to many of us as a contributing writer to The Wire (see Obscure Mechanics interview with Coil), he operated the Sentrax record label since 1992 (featuring releases by Lull, Final, God, and others), and has been making music mainly as Tactile. John was diagnosed recently with terminal stomach cancer. A compilation has been arranged to help with expenses. Everall By Everall features Stephen Thrower, Drew McDowall, Christoph Heemann, Andrew Liles, Irr.App.(Ext.), Hoor-Paar-Kraat, and many more. All funds received will go to paying for John's funeral expenses when he passes on. Donations are accepted and the compilation can be found at everall.bandcamp.com

27 August 2014

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Wallace Stevens wrote "July Mountain" in the last year of his life, suffering from stomach cancer. A recognition of mortality and imperfection hides in his poem’s first eight lines. They gently and beautifully remind the reader that life on earth is a fragmented thing, and that there are no conclusions, no full and final stops that shine a light on all the dark corners in the world. Instead we are all "thinkers without final thoughts in an always incipient cosmos," forever watching the world and the stars spin themselves into new configurations. The poem explicitly uses music as an image for that interminable metamorphosis, and Michael Pisaro’s composition of the same name demonstrates just how apt an image it is. July Mountain (Three Versions) illustrates Stevens’s contention, combining field recordings with incredibly stealthy musical contributions provided by Greg Stuart. Bowed snare drums, piano, bird calls, jet engines, and numerous other sounds, from sine tones to insects, unexpectedly coalesce over its 21 minutes, forming a quivering and effervescent peak for anyone willing to make the ascent.

Gravity Wave

July Mountain first appeared as a single piece on a limited edition CDr released by Engraved Glass. To the "California Version" presented on that disc, the Gravity Wave release features two additional performances. One of them, the "Austin Version," is a complete rendition, combining 20 field recordings unique to that city with 10 layers of percussion recorded by Greg Stuart. Instructions for how the field recordings are to be obtained are minimal (make 20 of your own, or get them from the composer, just make sure to point the microphones at mountains or valleys if possible), but their durations and their arrangements with respect to one another are very well defined. They are all ten minutes long, and there are only ever ten recordings playing simultaneously.

On the percussive side, the featured instruments include resonating surfaces teased by sine waves, vibraphones wrapped in tin foil, and "seed rain," a steady stream of seeds, rice, or beans poured over crotales or a glockenspiel (the score gives the performer plenty of choices). Their timings and durations are specified by time markers—four bowed wooden blocks at nine and a half minutes, one projected sine tone at five and a half minutes, lasting for seven minutes and thirty seconds—and the methods suggested for playing them, including the exact qualities to be elicited from them, are described rather than strictly notated. For example, the instructions for the bowed snare drum read, in part, "Sounds may be created by bowing on any part of the instrument and by bowing on a drumstick or doweling with its tip pressed against the drum."

In combination, these two elements are difficult to separate. Conglomerations of sound rise and fall together, smearing into agreement as they are carried away on the same breeze, cars buzz anonymously down lonely roads, storms rumble in the distance, and unidentifiable particles of noise slip in and out of earshot as naturally as the hum of traffic or the rush of wind through the leaves. No hint of instrumental interference is evident until some eight minutes into the song, when the first piano chord sounds. Greg Stuart has actually been playing for six minutes by that point, but it’s not easy to ascertain what belongs to him and what belongs to the mountains of California.

The "Instrumental Version," which omits all the field recordings, renders the extent of this subterfuge with shocking clarity, and is in some ways responsible for making July Mountain (Three Versions) such an eye-opening and enjoyable document. On its own, the music is lovely and unassuming. No matter how thick and confusing the recording becomes, the atmosphere stays spacious and inviting. It drifts without meandering, gradually gains density, and then slowly fades away, as if every element outlined in the composition had been captured all at once, completely by accident. Listening to the "Instrumental Version" adds insight, and a chance to hear how Pisaro and Stuart make the magic happen. It’s exciting to peak behind the curtain and get some sense of the process.

Pisaro’s decision to include the final line of Stevens’s poem in the liner notes provides nearly the same kind of insight, though what it reveals is less technical and more poetic. Just as "Vermont throws itself together" as Stevens climbs the mountain, so too does July Mountain take shape as it is recorded, performed, and heard. Even with all the elements of the instrumental score cemented by a recording, a near infinite variety of performances is possible, each one an accumulation of local sensations captured and sent into orbit, together forming a constellation of perceptions. The work of the composer is discernible upon inspection, but the performance of the piece demands variety. No final mix follows, there’s no signature on the dotted line; it’s an ever-evolving network of coincidences, revelations, and possibilities. July Mountain comes together as we listen to it, maybe as all songs do. But as a composition it asks that we take shape with it. When the sounds finally stop, it must be that something in ourselves stops with it.

samples:

• California Version
• Instrumental Version
• Austin Version