Four
tracks, with three on side A.
The
first track, ‘Intro to Breathwork’, has me processing a not quite peaceful
collage. Subtle, thin. sharpie’d lines of violence faintly trace curling, outer
shapes; here, paramedics are loading a strapped-down-me into the back of an
ambulance on some rainy morning, ambient blips and squeaks cancelled out by focused,
staggered breathing; all the while, passing traffic and conversation is translated
into deep, peaceful, bassy drones.
In
comes ‘Deep Water, Lemurian Tides’. Subtle waves of tape hiss beg for attention
and then assume insignificance, whilst, juuuust behind, e-bow(?)’d bass guitar
swells wash in and out, carrying accompanying overtones and feedback, all of
which, once memorized, make, not only good, solid sense, but an outright
‘fuck-the-facts-this-is-my-divine-affinity” document; a non-verbal ontological
refinement of some alternate self, in real time. Moods of ancient experiences
are hinted at; continual, minimal shifts tease attention to juuuuust pay a
juuuuust bit more a-tttttention… until the ten minute mark reminds us how we’re
actually only receiving instrumental transmissions and not earnest, captured
glacial moan-grunts.
‘march
towards time’ …what better way to sum up neil young’s favorite fascination than
to lead an arrhythmic bass-pulse throughout what it might sound like if a
buncha weirdos chugged along through simple riffs at the bottom of a
hundred-level-deep stairwell…with their friends from ‘the band’…and then added
more reverb than any beluga whale has ever known. Maybe I’m sentimental here? Read into me?
Halfway through this track, the movement gets outright interpretive-danceable,
with cymbal swells, synth-twang, and the ever-pervasive highway tthhrruumm that
maybe just might be an unhealthy heartbeat.
………
‘Temple
of the Clouds’
This
last long track, taking up all of side b, is simple. Get down to forgetting.
The tape hiss, by this point, excites and juxtaposes those previous bass hymnals
on le prior side. I can’t help but envision a half-timed clip of ‘Cheers’,
where everyone syncs into an eyes-closed-slow-nod-in-understanding; with some
monolithic requisite we’re all in no hurry to, but are, nevertheless, still
struggling to adapt to.
-
- Jacob An Kittenplan
Posts
