Showing posts with label Property Materials. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Property Materials. Show all posts

SOLID STATE ENTITY “Chorea” C40 (Property Materials)


The thing about that snake skeleton is that it suggests movement. Not that particular snake, mind you – again, it’s a skeleton, so movement is probably the last thing on its mind (and it doesn’t even HAVE a mind). But snakes are really all about motion, and all those bones just make me wonder what kind of muscles and nerves and stuff they attached to. Really kind of fascinating. Unbelievable twitch responses in snakes.

“Chorea” is all about movement too – the name suggests involuntary movement, as it is in fact a “nervous system disorder involving repetitive movements or unwanted sounds.” Well, if you’re going to be making low-key techno music or laid-back electronica, then “repetitive movements” are all part of the deal. The unwanted sounds thing – not so much. You’re looking for the opposite of that.

Solid State Entity delivers on the “wanted sounds” – the whole vibe of “Chorea” is murky and tense, like you’re not sure if anything’s going to explode out of it while you’re in the middle of listening to it. It wriggles and writhes like you expect a snake to, anticipating a strike that never comes. Still, it lulls you into a sense of safety – and sure, you’re gonna be fine listening to this – the tics and jolts serving as points of delicious interest. “Chorea” slithers through the night, pulsing and jiving, moving in constant rhythm till the tape flips, then it keeps going.




--Ryan

RADIO SKOTVOID “Install All” C28 (Property Materials)


“Install All” is the electronic equivalent of a wartime pirate radio station, and Boston’s Radio Skotvoid is your emcee for the evening. Well, I guess an emcee would have to use their voice, and there’s no voice intoning seemingly random but in actuality super coded numbers on “Install All” (although sometimes I wish there was). Instead, Radio Skotvoid broadcasts dark and stuttering missives into the night, daring you to cock your ear just right so that patterns emerge.

They do … and they don’t, but figuring out the cipher and connecting the dots is all part of the fun. The beats, when they’re there, pulse in and out of time, forcing you to impose structure upon them as they go. This is a tape that twinkles with distant longing at times, the fractured realities of the compositions giving away the melancholy underneath the framework. But there’s all kinds of nuggets of information encoded in the magnetic tape – the delivery is just a disguise for a more potent message. It’ll lull you into a false sense of security, then, when the tape warbles or the pitch shifts, the real communication will begin. Can you catch the hidden meaning in the air?




--Ryan

LIMBC / J. BAGIST “Split” C40
(Property Materials)




Limbc, from Allston, Massachusetts, utilizes disruptive electronics to juxtapose tranquility and mayhem, injecting pulses and charges over synth soundscapes like computer viruses that gradually reduce the integrity and functionality of a machine. If you imagine that a computer’s CPU functions like a human brain, these elements introduced to the processing functions act like attacks on an electronic limbic system, which – whoa! – sounds an awful like if you said “Limbc” out loud. Probably not a coincidence. By the end of Limbc’s side of this split on Property Materials, your computer may still be functioning, but it’s certainly way more under the influence of the invading code than your influence anymore. The takeover may be hostile, but there isn’t a single shot fired, as Limbc’s nuanced and textural approach washes over the terrain and evolves along with it.

J. Bagist is only interested in navigating Sewer City, 2065, and getting the heck out of there (probably).

The Bostonian and Property Materials head raconteur drips synth weirdness on his side of the split, as “Riots in the Vegetable Garden” and “Alien Blur Dissipates in Gutter Twilight” explain all you need to explain about what’s about to happen, what you’re about to hear. The creeping decay of Bagist’s long-form explorations of the fictional city inhabit every corner of every note and rhythm, every triggered effect and synth patch. You wallow in it for a while, getting the feel of the place, darting down side streets, checking your map, hoping like hell you’re not being chased by any… Oh, crap. Almost three-fourths of “Alien Blur” features a blaring klaxon effect that essentially makes you feel like you’ve been pinpointed by a hovering searchlight. It’s exhilarating, and awesome, and makes me want to run and get the hell out of Sewer City. Fortunately, it’s highly unlikely I’ll be alive in 2065, so.

Did I mention this tape has a green glitter shell? I didn’t? Well, there you go.




--Ryan

KAR’NAM “Autodidactic” C32 (Property Materials)




Kar’nam is like a human digeridoo – an “om” machine with controls set for the heart of the all-seeing “I,” the center of the mind, the core of the inner being. Building vast, drifting drones with whatever’s around, Kar’nam lets eyes close while kaleidoscopic psychedelics play on the back of the lids. I’m not gonna say for certain that it’s all looped voice, but it sounds an awful lot like strictly looped voice. The haunting mesmerism of “Autodidactic” trips through your wires like spiritual electricity, a charge from a higher plane of existence that can only be reached through ritual cleansing of the mind and spirit.

Not unlike Jordan Reyes’s Revenant project, Kar’nam’s formula begins with the loop-based building blocks on which are built structures of intense sound, but “Autodidactic” allows for a more careful and gentle exploration of the psyche. It’s heady, though, bubbling and fizzing till you feel weightless, buoyed by the sound to an unknown destination, but one whose shores are welcoming for all seekers of inner peace. “Divide Yourself,” especially, with its Eastern scales, really takes on a mystical identity, rippling out through space and time into the great infinite beyond. But only for its fifteen or so minutes. (What? That’s how long it lasts!)




--Ryan


MOONDRAWN / J. BAGIST “Split”
(Property Materials)




There’s been a lot of talk about tulpas, whether it’s Diane Evans or Dougie Jones, but no one’s ever really laid to tape what the idea of a “tulpa” really sounds like until Moondrawn, with, duh, “Tulpa.” And even he foresaw the tulpa craze way back in 2011! It’s like he had a crystal ball or something, or was trapped inside some kind of “lodge” where time loops infinitely…

Still, the synthesizers are nice, and the drone is a sweet transition from “Tulpa” to “He Is a Sleepwalker,” the two Moondrawn tracks on his half of this dreamy tape he splits with J. Bagist. The Boston experimental electronic heavyweights (I’m assuming, I don’t live in Boston) are a perfect match for each other – Moondrawn’s minimal drone swirls into J. Bagist’s tense productions, digital pulses and rhythms bubbling in sweet contrast. The question then becomes, are these two artists real people, or are they manufactured supernatural entities?

You know, tulpas?

The only way we’ll find out is if we go to a Red Sox game with Terrence Mann while on the hunt for the secrets to Archibald “Moonlight” Graham.

Betcha didn’t see that reference coming.

Anyway, this split is a dense combination of electronic manipulation, spanning an enviable spectrum of experimental ambient music. Don’t sleep on this one, or you might lose everything that makes you you in the foggy mind of your doppelgänger.

Moondrawn

Property Materials


--Ryan