EVAN MILLER “Self Titled” C41 & JACKSON GRAHAM “Small Impossibilities Vol. I-II” C31 (New Village Tapes)

Dayton, OH’s drone/texture-focused percussionist and electro-acoustician, Evan Miller, has recently birthed the nervous system-bullying, avant-garde imprint “New Village Tapes”, and the first two releases on it, EM’s eponymous release, and Jackson Graham’s “Small Impossibilities Vol. I-II”, pair up to be an intense psychoacoustic adventure and blissful sonic sauna, respectively, to be taken in, back to back, repeatedly.

On “Evan Miller”, metal and rubber tools are all but brutally carved into cymbals, singing bowls*, and dragged across tightly wound heads concealing cavernous/reverberant bodies that moan and shudder below so many out-of-sync cycles and shrill, anxious tangs wrought from both all aforementioned frictions and said quaking/screechings that’ve been captured live and fucked-heavy-with by contact-mic-caught tape manipulations. The result is a hair-raising, pulse-quickening battery of dynamic frequencies that slither and lumber to life before our very ears, and it’s easy to personify the movements and hallucinate along with, oneself.

On “SIVI-II”, the near opposite is to be had; one lone, tonally-centered, consistent synthesizer lays down a few shiny slabs of drone, a sympathetic swell or two, and a slo-mo arpeggio towards the end of the tape, providing a thick base for JG’s vibraphone improvisations that feel free, sonorous, and early-eve breezy enough to either catnap to or just stare at passing clouds by. After the caffeinated swirl of that EM tape, this’ll feel like a much needed cooling mug of chamomile and honey.

https://newvillagetapes.bandcamp.com/album/evan-miller

http://evanmillerperc.com/

and

https://newvillagetapes.bandcamp.com/album/small-impossibilities-vol-i-ii

https://jacksongraham.bandcamp.com/

—Jacob An Kittenplan

*my guess

EVAN MILLER “Two Places” C34 (Personal Archives)

Evan Miller’s debut cassette on Personal Archives is all about its sense of place. And, like, duh, it’s even called “Two Places,” so you’re left with the sound of those places. Built on field recordings and processed with ambient sound structures, “Two Places” marks a firm grid point on the map, one whose latitude and longitude will never change, will always remain at that specific point. And the sounds there evoke the past, which is also the present. Miller’s aunt even remarked after hearing some of this project that “the field sounds took her back years ago when she sat on that same porch and listened to the bugs and the trains and interstate off in the distance.” Those sounds are still there.

Those sounds have been there for a long time. They mark a period of expansion and innovation, an American way of life that seemed so hopeful at some point. And even though they’re just a blip on the timeline of universal history, they still strike a deep chord in certain listeners. The sound recalls the memory from deep within the brain. The brain reacts with emotional stimulus. “Two Places” makes its mark.

These two pieces sneak up on you – you feel like you’ve lived within it for an age before something tangible emerges and reminds you of where you are. Evan Miller is still where he is, was, and will be. Go ahead and visit him when you’re in town.

Evan Miller

Personal Archives


--Ryan

EVAN MILLER “Twelve Canons” (Night People)

Iowa City main man E. Miller returns for another plate of pensive, six string memory ballads. He sounds even more serious and stately here than on Three Spells for Six String Guitar, if that’s possible. The Takoma Records legacy still hangs heavy in the air over these sessions, and few-to-none of his fixations seem to have shifted. Which, of course, is perfectly okay, as he’s definitely one of the spryer young handiworkers on today’s Fahey/Basho block. But if – as they say – every (Jack) Rose has its thorn, the only semi-needling such detail worth mentioning might be the vague sameness about the songs on Twelve Canons (except for the one with singing, duh). But whatever. I like things that are the same, as do many folk folks. Sick orange-on-red Shawn Reed screenprinted cover of two bucks clashing antlers beneath a levitating skull with bleeding eyes adds a key sheen of menace to the otherwise homebound/daydreamy proceedings.

EVAN MILLER “Three Spells For Six String Guitar” (Night People)

Raccoo-oo-oon cohort and overt Fahey fetishist Evan Miller’s first tape for Night People is exactly what it says it is: three finger-picked acoustic guitar instrumentals. The A side jam (“Spell Against Forgetfulness”) is easily the most hectic of the trinity, revving steadily up from brisk Jack Rose fret-rambling until it’s just the sound of hands slapping against muted strings. On the B, Miller decides to lay his obsessions on the table in plain view. “Fahey Spell” couldn’t be much more obvious, directly copping an old-tymey melody straight from the fountainhead himself…it sounds exactly like a cut off Blind Joe Death. But the last track (“Spell Against Indifference”) is also probably the best, gliding fluidly from melody to melody, pitting the lower drone strings against the flittering high ones in a pitter-patter rhythm that’s both hypnotic and quietly dramatic.