mHz - Material Prosody

A Closer Listen

One of the season’s most fascinating projects is also a piece of physical art, and well it should be, as Material Prosody examines the materiality of sound.  Whether one holds the physical edition or simply views it, one can grasp the concept in an instant: matter affects sound.  The materials used in mHz‘s USB-powered sound sculpture are aluminum, brass, copper, steel, concrete and wood.  An 8-step DIP switch controls the rhythmic sequence, while a simple dial controls the tempo; the patterns become electrical impulses which are transferred to the solenoid and beamed into the block.  While this may sound complex, most people are familiar with room acoustics and the different ways a music box can sound if placed on concrete or the top of a wooden dresser; mHz is much more intentional, but the experiment is similar.

The limited Room40 edition may be a souvenir edition – a USB stick and a block of one of the six materials – but it still suggests home experimentation.  Fascinated by Rayner Banham’s concept of brutalism, mHz is now bringing it to the masses.  The surprising difference is that the music is not “anti-beautiful,” but uniquely attractive.  The project’s second round transfers power to five other artists, who are invited to expand and expound on the possibilities of the material sequencer and its corresponding block.

Nicolas Bernier is the first artist represented, his work starting with a light click and tone before exploding into a series of crisp metallic sequences.  This is the sound of aluminum brought to life: rhythmic, pounding, industrial.  Already one is scrolling to the bottom to give credit to Lawrence English for incredible mastering; these sounds burst from the speakers, and the stereo effects are striking.  Occasionally the tempo slows and even comes to a complete stop before restarting; hisses echo and notes reverberate.  Parts of the second half seem nearly orchestral.  Hearing this, one is tempted to cover one’s walls with aluminum siding, bringing the outside to the interior.

Loscil‘s “Brass,” the first public track, is calmer, drone-like, dark and mysterious as an encroaching fog bank.  The clicks and beats are translated into pulses, while the whispers remain.  One senses the flow of sound as it moves around the alloy, stymied by its density.  Brass is good at conducting heat and electricity, but is less effective with sound; aluminum is far more elastic.  Second best is copper, although still 2/3 less conductive; Matmos uses this material in a percussive workout, a natural experiment for a duo who once released an album comprised of plastic sounds and more recently worked with metal balers.  Of all the tracks, “Copper” lends itself best to a club setting.  At 3:44, it’s also the perfect length for a single. The principle does not apply to Alba Triana‘s “Wood,” a stripped-back, bare bones, ten-minute offering which breaks the clicks down to their minimal essence and sounds like a pod of agitated dolphins.  In contrast, Zimoun produces a rolling effect on “Steel,” like that of a hull in gentle waves.  As it contains no obvious percussion sounds, one might try playing the latter two tracks simultaneously, placing wood and steel in dialogue.

One imagines mHz being incredibly pleased with the variety of responses to the sequencer.  The artist’s own “Concrete” is anchored by a spoken word fable, which begins, “You say to brick, ‘What do you want, brick?’  And brick says to you, ‘I’d like an arch.”  Spoken word cedes space to robotic voice, while the music switches from soft flutters to hard beats.  mHz honors Banham in word and sound, the music epitomizing the orderly, blocklike structures of brutalism, which utilizes exposed concrete.  The artist dares the listener to find beauty in what is stark, which might also describe the ethos of Room40; the label has produced a gem in Material Prosody, although not from diamonds and rubies, but something rougher and more relatable.  (Richard Allen)