Andrius Mack - Coastal Soundforms

A Closer Listen

In “The Sea,” Pablo Neruda writes, “I need the sea because it teaches me.  I don’t know if I learn music or awareness, if it’s a single wave or its vast existence,” but the poet becomes part of its “pure movement.” Andrius Mack honors Neruda’s spirit by traveling to the coastlands of the U.K., Lithuania, Netherlands, Portugal, Morocco and Italy to capture the sounds of this suite.  The result is an amalgamation of sounds that obscures human borders while highlighting the universal appeal of the sea.

Is any sea every sea?  Mack’s collages make it seem so. Once there was only one ocean.  And while turbulent seas may be less appealing for sailors and swimmers, the artist highlights the water’s more active sounds, as they lend themselves better to a sonic narrative.  The occasional use of low pass filters increases the sense of drama, the remaining low end of the sonic field connoting mystery and depth.

Although this is a digital release, one receives it as a record with two distinct sides.  The album begins with thick and immersive sounds before receding, communicating the vastness of blue. Terrestrial sounds of splashes and drainage connect the first track to the second.  In “Abyssal Plains,” the water is louder and more active: waves caught between rocks, unwilling to remain within their designated boundaries.  The track makes an especially good use of the stereo field; after two minutes the volume peaks, threatening to flow from the speakers into the room.  And “Ghosts of Demgemersc, Headland” collects scraps and scrapes, inviting the avian population to comment on whatever fish may be headed for the dinner plate.  The metal creaks hint at a local human populace, absent save for their sonic footprint.

Our (imagined) Side B starts with cicadas and a feeling of uninterrupted peace.  “Tymbals and Golden Gallopers, Beach” is the only track with an obvious human presence, thankfully benign, beginning with distant conversation and nearly-subliminal hum before folding in the sound of children at play.  And then there are motorboats, possibly planes, and a gorgeous seaside calliope. One begins to realize that the human cacophony is about to rival that of the sea.  Not so fast, says the ocean, upping the ante with louder waves and insistent crashes.  By the end, one cannot hear the children anymore.  (Don’t worry, they haven’t drowned!)

The closing track begins with a distant roar before the sea reclaims its own.  The contrast between geophony and anthropophony is a reminder that the sea was here long before humanity and will exist long afterwards.  If all of history were represented by a single Soundcloud track, humanity might occupy a single second.  Coastal Soundforms is a gentle reminder of our place in creation, inviting listeners to learn from the sea rather than to attempt to tame it.  (Richard Allen)