Minimalist Premiere by Alarm Will Sound (MP3)

Chamber music with a daring sparseness


The great contemporary-classical ensemble Alarm Will Sound continues to share recordings of material it performed at the Mizzou New Music Summer Festival last summer. Previously covered here was Liza White’s Bernstein/North-esque “Step!” Uploaded earlier this week was “We Were All,” a chamber orchestra work by composer Yotam Haber that calls for voices and, as delineated in the score, a keyboard with the following qualities: “preferably synth with an electric piano sound that has an 80s retro quality.”

The keyboard isn’t the only participant here with a retro quality. There is, to the pulsing rhythms and emotionally distant chant-like singing, something reminiscent of Steve Reich of that same era, especially his wonderful Tehilim. Distinguishing Haber’s piece is a daring sparseness. It may be scored for a mid-size ensemble, 16 total instruments and voices combined, but at any given moment it sounds more like only two or three might be playing, and even then the demands placed on them are more about a virtuosity of attention and rhythmic restraint than about anything remotely like show-stopping flair.

Track originally posted for free download at soundcloud.com/alarm-will-sound. More on Alarm Will Sound at alarmwillsound.com. More on Haber at yotamhaber.com, including the complete score of “We Were All” as a PDF (from which the above image is excerpted). The work was commissioned by the Adele and John Gray Endowment Fund. The recording was made live on July 16, 2011.

On the Persistence of the Wind Chime in Instrumental Hip-hop

Free beats from Great Britain via Bulgaria

The wind chime is not the most likely percussive instrument in a hip-hop track — nor a likely melodic component, for that matter. It is slight, and prone to inaccuracy, and has all the swagger of a mid-nap pixie-dust sprite. But in the hands of Third Person Lurkin, a characteristically old-school member of the roster at the Bulgarian netlabel Dusted Wax, the chime serves multiple purposes. (It also, truth be told, may be a tiny bell and not a chime, but the effect is the same.) It initially appears in the track “Over Forgotten Places,” off the Cloud Mirror album, as an accent, one sound among many. Even when it initially repeats, it seems more like a flourish than a building block. But as the track proceeds, that’s exactly what it is: the key enabler of swing in the track, a swing that’s as fragile as a dust-laden cobweb in an afternoon breeze, but a swing nonetheless (MP3). In its own way, it is just as much a sonic irritant as once were the sirens that bled through Bomb Squad productions for Public Enemy, but here it’s an irritant along the lines of near-subaural “mosquito” tones that are used to shoo teens from convenience stores.

[audio:http://www.archive.org/download/DWK118/Third_Person_Lurkin_-_01_-_Over_Forgotten_Places.mp3|titles=”Over Forgotten Places”|artists=Third Person Lurkin]

Get the full album for free download at dustedwax.org; there’s some beautiful echoed horn in the track “Sun Domes.” More from Third Person Lurkin, who’s based in England, at thirdpersonlurkin.bandcamp.com.

Drones Are a Beach (MP3)

Freely downloadable drones from Japan's Summons of Shining Ruins

The beach is a useful metaphor for a drone album. It offers images and associations including stasis, a blank horizon, an abyss-like edge, the threat of undertow, the white noise of natural occurrences. The metaphor provides the title for the latest from Summons of Shining Ruins, aka Shinobu Nemoto. Titled On the Beach, it is five tracks of lightly layered drones. The hiss on “It Was a Tragedy of Microscopic Proportions” in particular sounds like distant surf, a persistent low-level whir that suggests some massive outbreak of tinnitus. Beneath and above it all is a cantilevered melodic pulse, an ebb and flow of church-organ gravitas that has the feel, again, of a wave coming and going. The deep horn-like sound in turn comes to figure that of a warning to ships in a deep, unforgiving fog (MP3).

[audio:http://www.archive.org/download/rb104/03-It_was_a_tragedy_of_microscopic_proportions.mp3|titles=”It Was a Tragedy of Microscopic Proportions”|artists=Summons of Shining Ruins]

Get the full set for free download at restingbell.net. The site provides these two links for reference to Nemoto: moufu-rokuon.net, magneticmnemonics.bandcamp.com
His music was covered here previously in 2011, 2010, and 2009.

An Asynchronous Collaboration (MP3)

Tokyo-based musician reworks field recordings from afar


Tokyo-based musician Yasuo Akai lists his piece of music “Be It So” as “w. Chris Lynn,” the latter phrase appearing in a parenthetical after the track’s title. The combination of the letter w and a single period is shorthand for “with” and generally is intended to suggest a collaboration that comes up short of a duet, a piece of music in which one of the two participants is clearly the lead, and the other plays a supporting role. In the case of “Be It So,” the roles are just so. Lynn’s part in it was to provide source material, the “impros/field recordings” from which Akai than constructed his piece. Akai’s work makes the original sounds largely unrecognizable as field recordings, not that we know, for sure, what they sounded like originally. He also moves quickly from a form that suggests a song-like approach to one that embraces a more gestural mode. The song-like sensibility arrives early on, when, 10 seconds in, the initial tones are heard to repeat, suggesting a theme, and while those sounds are heard a subsequent time, it is not in a manner that could be considered a chorus or a verse. Instead there is a sequence of gentle phrases that are at times shot through by a building noise, a welt that sounds like a speaker cone has gone moldy with neglect. Rather than disrupt the softer tones, the rougher passages makes them appear all the more soft by setting them in clear contrast.

Track originally posted at soundcloud.com/yasuoakai. More on Yasuo Akai at thefirstpersonpronountowear.blogspot.com. More on Chris Lynn at framingsounds.wordpress.com. For lack of a visual, the above image is a still from a forthcoming Super 8 film by Lynn.

The Drone-Industrial Complex (MP3s)

Jonas Ruchenhever's 'Machines & Corners' via Tumblr.com & Archive.org

You can, indeed, have your UI cake, or at least your UI eye candy, and eat it, too. And sometimes the easiest way to accomplish this goal is to relegate the two different tasks to two different online locales. The netlabel Pocket Fields, for example, is lovely, as is often the music that it releases. Each page on its Tumblr-powered site (pocketfields.tumblr.com) for a given album displays a slender vertical band, and allows a single MP3 to be streamed as a teaser. There is a link, then, to the archive.org hosting service, where a Zip archive of those MP3s is resting, waiting to be downloaded, unlocked, and listened to. But, just about every archived sound object at the latter site has a public face, which means that after, say, enjoying the single Tumblr-based stream off Jonas Ruchenhever‘s Machines & Corners, you can proceed to archive.org and listen to them in full, one at a time, before deciding whether or not to download all 98.3 megabytes of them — or select them a la carte. Either way is recommended, but the album definitely is intended to be listened to as an album. The tracks range from metallic drones to evasive percussion, and the collection revels particularly in these haze-like zones where the ear listens through a wavering sound. But there are beats and disruptions as well. For all the slowly layering, sinuous tones of a “Corner V” (MP3), there are the complex industrial-tribal cross-patterns of a “Machine IX” (MP3). This contrast is at the heart of the collection, whose 10 tracks are almost evenly divided between these two types, each track siding with either the “Corner” or “Machine” tag.

[audio:http://www.archive.org/download/pf018JonasRuchenhever-MachinesCorners2012/10.JonasRuchenhever-CornerV.mp3|titles=”Corner V”|artists=Jonas Ruchenhever] [audio:http://www.archive.org/download/pf018JonasRuchenhever-MachinesCorners2012/08.JonasRuchenhever-MachineIx.mp3|titles=”Machine IX”|artists=Jonas Ruchenhever]

More on Ruchenhever, who is based in Belgium, at jonasruchenhever.be.