It’s unlikely that we will ever tire of backward masking. As post-feedback, post-reverb effects go, it’s old enough to have entered the realm of the natural, “the natural” defined as technology we consider part of (rather than apart from) everyday life. Though its very existence, the way it warps time, is about as unnatural as sound can get short of pure computer-reared synthesis, there’s something comfortable about it, perhaps owing to its use by George Harrison and others, perhaps simply due to its age in general. In the hands of Arvind Ganga, who records as Every Bolt Rumbling, it’s at first an entry into, and then a bed below, a percussive space.
Ganga does all this on guitar, which not only roots the sound in its perhaps most classic setting, but also doubles the sense of time-warping: he’s not only reversing the sound of his guitar, but taking us back in time. Judging by the evidence of this track, which is titled “Life as a Gaucho,” he may in fact be mixing two classic avant-garde techniques, because the crackling, light banging, and bent-wire twisting that slowly consumes the ethereal cush of the backward-masked guitar suggests that he has prepared it, perhaps with the bolts from which he takes his name.
More on Ganga, who is based in Den Haag, Netherlands, at twitter.com/everyboltrumbli (the above image is his Twitter avatar).
Of the top 10 most read posts on Disquiet.com, seven were from the (now) daily (and formerly weekdaily) Downstream section of freely legally downloadable audio — that’s out of 46 posts total for the month.
The top searches for the month were (in declining order, allowing for some ties): autechre, drone (which yields 341 returns, in case you were wondering — well, 342 as of this entry), Harold budd, iphone, topic, ambient mix, banks violette, beck, buddha machine, caribou, cave, chris herbert, eliane radigue, grill, instrumental hip-hop, Jon hassell, kosma, spinach prince, stars of the lid, string quartets.
Bridge Work: Bill Fontana on the site of his Sonic Shadows
The January 2011 edition of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art’s “artcast” (née podcast) includes a sequence on Bill Fontana, the sound artist. At the 10:40 point, he talks about “Sonic Shadows,” his installation that is currently running at the museum. The work involves reactive triggers on the SFMOMA’s famed bridge, which runs atop its vertiginous atrium. However, the sounds that one hears are not entirely from the visible portion of the site. Instead, they are drawn from various places, many of them beyond the public’s mental image of the museum, such as deep in its boiler room. Fontana explains that “all the sounds you are hearing are actually happening,” though he allows there is a bit of “alchemy involved” (MP3).
[audio:http://www.sfmoma.org/media/audio/podcasts/2011/January/aud_artcast_012111.mp3|titles=”Discussing Sonic Shadows (January 2011)”|artists=Bill Fontana]
There’s also an M4A version of the artcast that includes embedded images related to the various segments.
More on Fontana’s bridge-work at sfmoma.org (from which the above photo, by Don Ross, is borrowed). “Sonic Shadows” is scheduled to run from November 20, 2010, through October 16, 2011. If you’re in San Francisco this Thursday, February 3, there’s a lecture scheduled on the Fontana work at 6:30pm: sfmoma.org.
Note: As of today, the Disquiet.com Downstream section will run new material seven days a week. Previously it was updated on weekdays (Monday through Friday).
This is a small but needed upgrade. There’s simply too much free music on the web, compared with seven years ago, when the section first launched. So-called “free” culture has developed into such a rich community (really a community of communities) that what was once a hunt for good material is, today, more a matter of finding the best needles in a needle-packed haystack. Part of the reason for the expansion of the Disquiet Downstream section is to allow me to deal with sheer volume of music that’s of interest. Part of it is make me feel more comfortable mentioning a given individual act more frequently than I might have in the past, now that there are approximately 104 more slots per year for Downstream entries.
After the launch of the Disquiet.com Downstream section, in October 2003, its goal shaped into the following: recommendations each weekday of legally freely downloadable audio (usually music, though occasionally a related lecture, documentary, or interview segment). The Downstream entries are almost always MP3s, though alternate sound sources (Ogg, Flac) appear if they’re the only ones available. As a sign of how the section has developed, the very first Downstream entry wasn’t even for an MP3 at all, but for a video (for a song by Luke Vibert).
So, for Sunday enjoyment, a bit of self-styled glitchy folktronica: the four-track set The Forever Switch by the Coma Calling. Perhaps the key track is “Lying Amongst the Blooms,” which has at its base a heartbeat rhythm and a gated bit of muffled noir-movie drama, a rising muted-orchestra sample that cuts off suddenly, only to repeat again. The method isn’t uncommon, but it remains highly effective. It serves two purposes that contrast strikingly with each other. The tone itself is lush and nostalgic, even if it sounds like the audio is being filtered through layers of walls and muslin. But the cut is harsh, turning lush into beat.
The lush/beat is soon paved over with enough rhythmic material, not to mention an ’80s-style thumbed bass break, that the contrast loses its impact. Almost the whole album pushes past digital tomfoolery toward instrumental pop. Opening track “The Jenny Louise Bell Set” seems to employ a little kid’s xylophone, heard against threating winds right out of a radio adaptation of an Edgar Allan Poe story, and again giving way to a richly rhythmic and vocal-less song. Ditto “Poems,” which like those two other tracks eventually layers in a blippy robot-melodic riff, rendering the opening tonal material to background status. Great stuff all around, though you can’t help but miss the simplicity of how each track started off. “Arc” is the one piece that doesn’t lose sight of its origins, but is comfortable to take that material — a loungey, wavering spaciness, like Angelo Badalamenti gone shoegazing — through to the end. Perhaps tellingly, though, it’s the shortest track of the four.