By Keith Prosk
Chronic Shift
is the fourth recording from the world’s first and only microtonal tuba
ensemble and the second recording in which Peder Simonsen, who subbed in
for Kristoffer Lo beginning with 2017’s Bite of the Orange, joins
Robin Hayward and Martin Taxt. Simonsen extends his role here, remixing one
track and adding adornments to the other. The base of both tracks, which
last about half an hour together, is a live performance of two compositions
recorded in Berlin’s Großer Wasserspeicher, an historic large brick water
tower, during Bohemian Drips’ site-specific Speicher II festival in 2018.
Jazz recordings throughout the genre’s history frequently employ splicing,
overdubbing, and like effects, but bonafide remixes - changing the
character of a track, often through a narrow focus on the original material
with supplementing additives - are more rare. Remixing’s roots are in dub
and disco, traced through downtempo and techno, and, before I became an
improvised music convert, I treasured the versions, edits, and remixes of
Massive Attack, Tortoise, New Order, Basic Channel, and other similar
admirers of the 12” single (I still do). Particularly when they came from
the original musicians. They challenged my idea of the album version - and
the album itself - as immutable monolith, which seems common in those
coming from a rock background. In a way, the wide latitudes allowed by some
compositions from improvising musicians allow for a kind of instant remix;
every performance has the opportunity to refocus and illuminate new aspects
of the composition. But it’s refreshing to see the studio tradition
incorporated here. And like those tracks, Pederson narrows in on a detail
of the composition and supplements it with synths, accentuating the spirit
of the performance.
“Chronic Shift” is a remix of the Hayward composition “Sonic Drift,” which
was performed for the first time at the Speicher II festival and cycles
through harmonies based on the 11th, 13th, and 29th harmonics (for
reference, “Bite of the Orange” is based on the 11th and 13th). Simonsen
loops a sustained dyad from two tubas, signaled by a clear stop like a tape
click, and adds water drops and faint electric pops, cracks, and beeps for
an environment that would feel at home in a glitchy Jan Jelinek record.
Occasionally the dyad loop is broken with the full chord. And eventually a
sonar ping accompanies selected loops to create a cathartic effect similar
to Sigur Rós’ “Svefn-g-englar.” Half way through the track, a rattling from
Taxt’s tuba signals a shift from a fast clip to a creeping inertia and from
an electric emphasis to an acoustic awareness. Columns of air filling the
horn to the brim and beyond the brim, the corporeal pulse of each pitch’s
undulating frequencies creating a wake behind the blast, and the impact and
refraction and decay against the brick walls are all made audible. The
high-quality audio, reduced speed, and reverberating locality lend a
dimensionality or spatiality to the sound, like you’re there, swimming in
the sound. But the perspective seems to have transferred from Gulliver’s to
the Lilliputians’. It’s a dilapidated fanfare trapped in jelly, recalling
William Basinski’s Disintegration Loops. Or a deep yawp from the
bottom of a marine trench. Between the torpor, sonar ping, and water drops,
Simonsen reflects the nature of the water tower site perfectly while
simultaneously illuminating Hayward’s microtonal, corporeal harmonic
concepts with loops and loop speed. As well as checking all of these
conceptual, cognitive boxes, the music is engaging and emotive to the core.
It’s my favorite track I’ve heard this year so far.
Quite a few of these broad concepts feel vital to the music now. A kind of
droning, sine wave music, exploring harmony, dimensionality, and/or
microtonality, appears to be gaining a growing audience, enough for blog
readers to nominate Biliana Voutchkova & Michael Thieke’s Blurred Music as record of the year in 2018. There appears to be a
growing emphasis on site-specific recordings, with prominent examples in
Ken Vandermark’s Site Specific, the recent reissue of John
Butcher’s Resonant Spaces, and the positive reception to
field-recording-based music like last year’s Green Ways from Áine
O’Dwyer & Graham Lambkin or this year’s Nature Denatured and Found Again from Michael Pisaro; likely
reflecting a response to decreasing diversity in ecosystems and
environments from urbanization and increasing homogeneity in history and
experience from globalization. These site-specific recordings return the
focus to the local, sometimes the natural. And finally the use of software.
From George Lewis’ Voyager (e.g. this year’s Voyage and Homecoming
with Roscoe Mitchell) to Anthony Braxton’s SuperCollider in his Diamond
Curtain Wall Music to Hayward’s own Tuning Vine here, using intelligent
software to compose and improvise appears to be on the rise. Interestingly,
dionysianly, there’s a desire to advance with technology while retaining
the organic past. To advance a new music through “non-music.” All of this
is to say, there’s an impressive synthesis of ideas present here.
“System Reboot” is based on a composition created by the Tuning Vine. This
is classic Microtub, with resonating, reverberating waves of tuba washing
over you. A meditative, mysterious experience similar to Tibetan singing
bowls. But sounded deeply and bodily. Simonsen adds a synth similar to the
sonar ping, but in different tones, so it adds a more digestible sense of
movement to what otherwise might seem too static. Having presented a
performance in both fast and slow time, the ensemble asks the listener to
recognize those previously highlighted components in real time here.
For its synthesis of concepts in space and dimension, site specificity and
locality, microtonality, harmonics, and post-production and interactive
software, while simultaneously emotive and addictively listenable, Chronic Shift is a prodigious capstone to a decade of marvelous
work from this mighty ensemble. A digest compendium of its boundary-pushing
journey thus far. A must-listen.
Chronic Shift
is available digitally and on LP.
2 comments:
Fantastic review Keith
Thank you so much, Nick! Looks like some of the paragraph spacing got lost in translation though :/ This record is really so nice I bought it twice (I went back for the LP). The recording and mixing quality is amazing for both. My near-daily listening to the title track has only recently been interrupted by obsessively replaying Andy Stott's new record
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