This is the first new release from Emeralds’ former synth wizard in six years and marks a return to his DIY past with the unveiling of his new imprint Simul (much of Hauschildt’s early work was self-released on his own Gneiss Things label). Obviously, a hell of a lot has happened globally since Hauschildt last surfaced, but it seems like a hell of a lot has happened personally for him as well, as he left Chicago to live on the other side of the world in Tbilisi, Georgia.
In keeping with that theme of transformation and disorientation, the album borrows its title from a perception disorder that roughly translates as “seeing air.” It is often triggered by hallucinogen use and apparently makes it seem like the objective material world is veiled in static or television snow. That makes an appropriate title for this release, as these eight sensuous and meditative synth pieces evoke a sense of solitary grandeur and longing fitfully frayed by distortion and sizzle.
Hauschildt’s work has always been a bit hit or miss for me, as he seems much more inspired by New Age, kosmiche, and early ‘80s film soundtracks than most other artists within the current synth vanguard and those retro sounds are not always my scene. Fortunately, he also happens to have a much stronger melodic sensibility than most other synth artists and an incredibly sophisticated and nuanced approach to composition as well, so his strongest pieces tend to be absolute stunners. To my ears, Aeropsia’s absolute stunner is “Dividua,” as a gently blooping and bittersweet melody languorously unfolds with a host of gorgeously streaking and twinkling embellishments before dissolving into a more percussive/marimba-esque coda. Elsewhere, the more propulsive and Emeralds-esque “Pyramidal” is another quietly mesmerizing highlight, as a cool off-kilter groove anchors an intricate arpeggio motif with a wonderfully tumbling and fitful melody.
That said, the full beauty of Aeropsia only reveals itself with deeper headphone listening, as Hauschildt’s nuanced and sensual manipulation of textures offers a more subtle world of pleasure lurking within the more obvious one. “Slipping” is an especially fine example of that small-scale magic, as it gradually blossoms from a gently smeared and wistful organ reverie to a a tenderly burbling arpeggio theme before dissolving into an achingly beautiful finale of chiming, crystalline tones and slow heaving sighs with frayed edges. The title piece is similarly sublime, as a rippling, delay-enhanced piano motif is beautifully enhanced by flickering and streaking high notes and Hecker-esque static-ravaged chords.
The remainder of the pieces are a fine batch as well, but they tend to diverge in more “ambient” or “cinematic” directions. The former are best represented by the lush, dreamlike opener “Statue of Verdigris” and the billowing, slow-motion majesty of the closing epic “Amongst Automata,” while the thumping and burbling “Forgetting in the Static” best captures Hauschildt’s retro soundtrack side. There are also some strong contributions from guitarist Michael Vallera and ubiquitous avant-garde cellist Lia Kohl throughout the album, but Hauschildt’s intuitive genius for melodies, textures, and ingeniously interwoven layers are what make Aeropsia an exceptionally fine synth album. Steve Hauschildt may have been quiet for the last several years, but he remains very much at the peak of his powers (and might even be better than before in some respects).
Listen here.
