A Closer Listen
Descending from the heights of yesterday’s massive ambient preview, we come to a smaller but no less powerful calendar of drone. This season’s schedule includes a double album from an artist whose 2022 record was our Album of the Year and another whose final compositions are unveiled seven years after his death. There’s some sadness to be heard here; there’s elegance; and finally there is grace. By the end of this short preview, there’s also time for massive walls of sound, drone beginning as filaments but eventually bordering on noise.
Our featured image comes from Pancrace’s Papotier, covered below ~ easily one of the wildest albums of the season.
Sarah Davachi‘s devotional drone continues to beguile and impress. The Head As Form’d In The Crier’s Choir showcases her pipe organ prowess as she draws long notes into longer oblivion. But there’s more here than meets the ear: string duo, brass duo, chamber choir, wind quintet, even solo electronics. Everything is thoughtful, one might even say divine (Late Music, September 13). Like Davachi, Pancrace composes church organ drone. But that’s where the comparison ends. Where Davachi is pensive, Pancrace is raucous and a little bit unhinged. Their double album Panoptier is thrilling and diverse, traveling from the safety of a church bell to the curiosities of bird calls, AM radio and rhombus. We doubt the two will ever tour together, but if they did, we’d be there in a heartbeat (Penultimate Press, October 25).
The sudden death of Marcus Fjellström at only age 38 came as a shock to the industry, and the reverberations are still being felt. For the last seven years, Erik K. Skodvin and filmmaker Dave Kajganich have been working on a final offering to secure his legacy. Culled from the recording sessions for The Terror, The Last Sunset of the Year is an elegant testimony to the enduring life (Miasmah, September 20).
Nonconnah returns with the thick textures and evocative samples of Nonconnah vs. the Spring of Deception, which references radiation, aliens and angels, all while creating its own speculative sonic world (Absolutely Kosher, October 4). Başak Günak‘s Rewilding is swathed in texture. The artist, known in club circuits as Ah! Kosmos, uses multiple instruments including organ, bass clarinet and Buchla 100. Culled from sound installations, packed with whispers and whistles, her latest set is intricate enough for headphones but perfectly suited for speakers (Subtext, September 20).
One of the most unique micro-genres of the season is “banjo drone,” which sounds a lot like American Primitive folk ~ until it doesn’t. Johnny Bell‘s Field Trips takes daring tangents, wandering in the rain, beneath waterfalls, across currents. But the drone is never far away; play “Re-emergence” for the best example (September 6). Drone is the main genre represented on Resistance, a new Ukrainian compilation from Igor Yalivec, who also compiled Kaleidoscope and Liberty; but it’s not the only genre. Familiar names include NFNR and Gamargah Fungus, while every artist continues to live and work in Ukraine, a nation under siege (Flaming Pines, October 26).
Henrik Pultz Melbye investigates the land of dreams on Drømmene, which exudes an intensely cinematic sci-fi tinge. This foray into dark ambience is colored by saxophone, reverberant and distorted, just like the images in our overnight minds (Wetware, September 20). Trumpeter Nathan Plante shifts to the dark side, using Electric Birds to experiment with modular synthesizer. But feat not, the trumpet is still present, mulched into an electronic bed, fertilized with field recordings (September 20). Modular synth is also the main instrument of Drone Diaries I, the latest release from FORM NULL. Inspired by the genre’s greats, the album also features a gorgeously forlorn, autumnal cover (Dead Letters Archive, September 13). Bhajan Bhoy‘s Peace Frequencies / Healing Frequencies is overt in intention, beginning with breathing exercises and inviting the listener into a sound bath of feedback and reverberation (Cardinal Fuzz/Feeding Tube, September 6). Cleared (Steven Hess and Michael Vallera) returns with Hexa, an experiment in which the recordings of one artist were handed off to the other for processing, modification and distortion (Touch, September 27). Poetry and “sacred chords” enhance Is Peace Wild?, a series of sonic explorations from Ludwig Wandinger that occasionally lets the beats in, as long as they are quiet (light-years, October 4). On the surface, Daniela Huerta‘s Soplo is a drone record, but every so often the clouds part and it becomes a different beast: electronic, experimental, softly sublime (Elevator Bath, October 25). Cold droplets fall at the beginning of Miki Yui‘s AS IF, like runoff from a stalactite. The album was inspired by the artist’s Amazonian travels, and sounds like a deep cave at nightfall (Hallow Ground, September 6).
We’re glad that the cover of The New Twilight (see right) is meant to be unnerving, because it sure hits the fear button. The latest outing from 400 Lonely Things skips right over loneliness and descends into madness. Informed by VHS horror tapes of the 70s and 80s, the artist provides a new series of scores, all but one track inspired by a specific film. This is one for the trick-or-treaters (Cold Spring, September 6). And we’d be remiss not to mention Khost‘s Many Things Affect Us Few Things Console Us, even though it has guttural, growling vocals, because it lives right next door at the dilapidated Cold Spring condo. This terrifying set is certain to paralyze the small children, left trembling at the door with arms outstretched (September 20). Cryo Chamber‘s latest album is ProtoU‘s The Voice of Serenity, a clash of tones where spooky meets serene (September 3). Qwoth presents Terminal, the second of this year’s three dark ambient demos, packed with tape hiss and mysterious sound (September 23).
Dinzu Artefacts has three releases scheduled for September 13. Lea Bertucci‘s Hold Music is a series of loops for sax and electronics, meant to be played on infinite repeat. Lea Bertucci‘s Hold Music is a series of loops for sax and electronics, meant to be played on infinite repeat. Got you! Marco Baldini‘s Fuochi is more of a drone album, rife with sustained organ tones. Henry Fraser‘s Breath Line is an exploration of the double bass, also drone-like in nature.
Zimoun‘s Dust Resonance is a guitar work featuring massive reverb and blur. The tracks flow into each other like grains of sand in the wind. There are no edges to be found, only a vast maw of sound (Room40, September 6). Also on Room40 is a unique release from mHz. Material Prosody‘s early editions sold out in days, available in copper, brass, wood, concrete, steel and aluminum, and also the names of the tracks. More copies are being commissioned. Six artists were invited to interact with different iterations of mHz’s sound sculpture “Material Sequencer,” and produced brand new layers of sonic wonder (October 4). Three weeks later, Sandro Mussida & Francesco Fabris use modular synth to give voice to the Icelandic wind. STILL~AEOLIAN is comprised of two long tracks of varying intensity (Room40, October 25). More Room40 on Wednesday!
With a black on black t-shirt, a black-on-black cover and a black-on-black sound, Daniel K Karlsson‘s Towards a Music for Large Ensemble is truly black. The vast curtains of sound do occasionally part, but only to illuminate gradients (Fönstret, September 6). Dark and doomy and drumless metal duo Diaries of Destruction (Elif Yalvaç and Jordan Muscatello) are releasing DoD II on Halloween, which fits their music perfectly. Play the album in the basement and dare the kids to go down there to get their candy. “Crushing drone metal” is the apt description of Oblivion, an hour-long, single-track album from Oscillation. After eight years away, the artist has returned darker than ever (September 20). And on the rocking side of drone we find Aidan Baker & Dead Neanderthals, who offer two side-long tracks of majestic drone on Cast Down and Hunted. Using saxophone, synth and drums, the trio creates huge vistas of sound that vibrate and hum until they begin to break like thunderclouds (Moving Furniture, September 13).
Richard Allen
Mon Sep 02 00:01:45 GMT 2024