Cyclic Defrost Magazine |  |
| Posted: 07 Jun 2009 04:43 PM PDT
John Grzinich’s Phase Inversion is a giant murmuring, always on the verge of blooming, though largely because it seems always to be fading, growing darker the deeper it dives, where steel scrapes and grey glitches break its surface and paradoxically makes the cold, barren atmosphere more intimate. If the climate of three works here is somewhat cryptic, it is a good deal more inescapable. Pieces pass with an incessant, circular motion, but it’s a motion done on the spot, heading nowhere. The first selection is the strongest. A solemn undertow spaded with placid tones hovers in the distance. A deceptively mischievous manner appears to hold it in place, though steadily it encroaches, not so much transforming as revealing a network of growling mechanical distortions occasionally pocked with echoing synthetic pings. The closing pair of works are hewn from the same dark matter, but their rubbings are more feint, corroded, as though they now stood at a certain distance from themselves. As fine as they are, there is a sense in which they aren’t quite heavy enough to fully make good on the potential of the albums initial stirrings. This remains, still, a fine example of Grzinich’s never overwhelming, but far from benevolent, rattling streams of sonic distillation. The next work, Nautilus With Wings, a collaboration between Ben Fleury-Stein and Danny Kreutzfeldt, finds a fascinating point of origin in the nautilus. A creature renowned for its ability to not only survive but remain vibrant in even the harshest of oceanic climates, Steiner and Kreutzfeldt similarly demonstrate an ability and enthusiasm for not only adapting but expending energy. The duo swoon, but also recoil, quick to renew rather than simply ravish their situation. With a series of fresh judgments, the surging power of these pieces, though dark and unstable, remains vibrant within these rich atmospheres and manages to open up engaging re-articulations with surprising consistency. Its heavy, smoldering essence may give rise to a wetland of spooked sounds, but this is an oddly intimate and inviting cavern to explore. Max Schaefer |
| Posted: 07 Jun 2009 06:25 AM PDT
Slovakian electronic producer Emil Matko has been composing music since he founded the downbeat / triphop outfit MindMap back in 2000, as well as running his own independent tape and CDR label focused on ambient, industrial and experimental music Black Orchid Productions, with more than 60 releases to date. Matko first introduced his Strom Noir alter ego in 2007 with his 3" CDR release ‘The Strom Ep’, and he’s certainly been prolific under the name – in fact, this latest release ‘Luvyoo’ represents his second full-length album and fourth release in just over two years. The eleven tracks collected on ‘Luvyoo’ sit somewhere between ambient electronics and post-rock minimalism, with Matko primarily relying on synths and treated guitar loops augmented with subtly deployed field recordings to create the hazily melancholic atmospheres here. Throughout completely beatless ambient landscapes like ‘Planet Catcher’ and ‘Za Chvilu Je Koniec Dna’, Matko treats the guitar elements to a point where the original source material becomes almost unrecognisable and merges with the synths to become a single mass of flowing melodic tones – indeed, when a familiar pluck or sound of fingers on strings does venture in at the very edges, it sounds almost alien in comparison to its surroundings. Think of this as perhaps slow-motion post-rock to watch glaciers flow to; this is easily one of the most understatedly beautiful ambient releases I’ve heard in some time, with the distant wash of field recorded voices on gorgeous closer ‘Heartland’ simply adding to the sense of inner cinema conjured up here. |
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