Disquiet

Judging by a recently uploaded example, Chris Herbert‘s forthcoming album on Kranky is to be looked forward to. At six and a half minutes, with little to no contextual setting by Kranky, the song, titled “Chlorophyl” (MP3), opens a narrow sliver of a glimpse into another, considerably private realm. Utterly quiet, with a pulse-soothing beat, it takes several listens to reveal itself, like a dark room slowly brought into focus. First come the contours: a crackle that suggests old vinyl, a warm blanket of earthly hush, and that unwavering but organic beat. Then come the details: little snaps in the sound bed, the vinyl crackle transforming into more of a door creak, thin layers of wisps as simultaneously compact and flaky as fine phyllo. And then there’s that beat, so steady that over time, as the other sounds make themselves more apparent, it softens and recedes, becoming the equivalent of invisible. Kranky and Herbert encoded the track at 192kbps, relatively generous for a promotional download, but necessary given how much aural information is buried in there. Kranky explains that Herbert lives in Birmingham, England, and is a member of a collective called Modulate AV. More info, though not much more, at kranky.net.

By Marc Weidenbaum