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Ambient Music

AMBIENT MUSIC: A QUIET PASSION

(IN CELEBRATION OF A GENRE BY KEVIN RENICK, FEATURING A NEVER-PUBLISHED SURVEY)

BRIAN ENO, mid-1970s (photo credit: ERICA ECHENBERG/REDFERNS)

Pretty much everyone has heard of ambient music by now; if asked, the average person will say something like, “Oh, it’s that quiet background music that people use for relaxation and meditation and stuff.” Anyone who follows music or online music sites will likely know that Brian Eno had something to do with the founding/popularization of the genre, and a growing number of listeners may even be able to namedrop some of the more popular artists in this realm, such as William Basinski, Steve Roach, Tim Hecker, Stars of the Lid, et al. Ambient music has been around for roughly half a century (I’ll get to why Brian Eno’s DISCREET MUSIC from 1975 was arguably the first TRUE ambient recording in a bit here), but for most of that time it was very much a cult thing, something that a handful of enthusiasts and enlightened music writers would have quiet conversations about here and there. As the internet evolved and came into widespread use in the mid-to-late ‘90s, the phenomenon of “listserves” and chat groups allowed fellow ambient lovers to find each other and bond over this rapidly growing sonic universe, and it helped that the ‘90s saw some of the most important and influential ambient pioneers of all time releasing major, enduring works… this included such names as Pete Namlook (and his wildly prolific German label FAX), Aphex Twin, Future Sound of London, the Orb and so many, many others. By the early 2000s, specific ambient review pages were springing up all over the internet, and “fan groups” were no longer something reserved just for major pop and rock stars. You could find ambient information pages with just a casual google search by 2010, and virtually any popular ambient artist had a fan page and possibly even a separate Facebook discussion group. The main Brian Eno page on Facebook, “Before and After Ambient,” grew to well over 10,000 members by about 2020, and the genre itself, once a rarefied category, became more and more popular as enthusiasts spread the word electronically and as ambient music began to get used in films more and more. Michael Mann’s HEAT and Peter Jackson’s THE LOVELY BONES were just two of many films whose soundtracks were largely ambient (the latter actually featured Brian Eno substantially). And a curious thing happened when the pandemic struck; when people started staying inside more and more, many of them “found” ambient music and discovered it was perfect for this new, nearly apocalyptic age. The drones, tinkles and strange lush chordings of this electronic sub-genre were a darn good soundtrack for a world in which death or detachment might be uppermost in the minds of average citizens. The New York Times itself published a major piece extolling the virtues of ambient for this modern age, and Brian Eno, godfather of the whole ambient universe, finally saw the ideas he generated that were once frowned upon by snottier critics and snobbier listeners, practically enter the mainstream, now fully embraced by an audience that had their minds opened wider by all that was available. Ambient is now here to stay, and most major music sites regularly publish lists of “Best Ambient Recordings,” with PITCHFORK doing an ambitious piece of “50 All Time Best Ambient” just a few years ago; I recall that list generating a ton of controversy because not everyone agreed on the choices. You expect that sort of thing with Rock, of course. But AMBIENT? Causing people to argue over what mattered most? Bet Eno himself couldn’t have seen THAT one coming.

GAVIN BRYARS, 2018 (photo credit: KATE MOUNT)

So I say all that by way of introduction, but… ambient is a deeply personal and cherished music world to me. And yes, I’m gonna give myself a pat on the back… I was there from the beginning. Listening to TV and movie theme music (STAR TREK was influential for me), and hiking in the woods a lot as a teenager gave me absolute primed receptors for the kind of mysterious, foggy sound world that was about to emerge in the ‘70s. I already knew stuff by Tangerine Dream, Mike Oldfield and a few others, but I discovered Brian Eno in 1975, and that was momentous beyond words. I bought ANOTHER GREEN WORLD like tons of other fans, but it was DISCREET MUSIC that altered my trajectory as a listener. It came out that same year, with a technical essay on the back cover explaining how the music was made, and a weird almost all-black cover signifying this as an OBSCURE LABEL release. That was Eno’s boutique label in which he produced and brought the world a series of experimental works by new composers who were not necessarily otherwise going to find popularity. Among the prominent releases were works by the great Harold Budd (another ambient pioneer), Gavin Bryars (his THE SINKING OF THE TITANIC was groundbreaking) and even Mister Silence himself, John Cage. My favorite version of his landmark piece “In a Landscape” appeared on the Eno-produced Obscure release. DISCREET MUSIC, however, was the biggie for me. Side One was a 20+ minute piece that featured lulling, goosebump-raising minimalist tones that sounded like they were far, far away, the dreamlike beckoning to a place of peace and beauty that you wished SO much you could get to. But only COULD by listening to this album. I loved it not only as a soothing work of musical transcendence, but oddly, it became my “go-to” album for hangovers, of which I had a few during that era. Something about that gentle, entrancing sound was able to make me forget everything else, even discomfort. It’s influence on me cannot be overstated. But Eno was just warming up. I’d have to write a separate article on the man’s huge, overwhelming impact on my life (I wouldn’t even be a modestly successful musician without Eno’s influence), but for now, it’s worth recounting that just a few years after DISCREET MUSIC, Eno put out a little thing called AMBIENT 1: MUSIC FOR AIRPORTS. That was the album where he coined the term “ambient music,” and is generally considered the official START of the genre. PITCHFORK had it as #1 on their widely read list of the classics, and many people have written essays about this potent collection of four shimmery, drifty pieces featuring simple piano melodies, synthesizer and lilting female chorus vocals. I listened to MUSIC FOR AIRPORTS over and over and over, most notably during a time when I was housesitting for my parents’ friends for a six-month period in 1979. But just a year later, came the first of two stellar collaborations with Harold Budd, this one called AMBIENT 2: THE PLATEAUX OF MIRROR. Without question one of the most beautiful and tranquil ambient releases of all time, and STILL cherished. And then in 1982, Eno released AMBIENT 4: ON LAND. Sometimes it takes a while for a groundbreaking masterpiece to get its due, for the “new territory” that is staked out to fully get integrated by those who follow in its wake. But I didn’t have to wait, myself. I recognized ON LAND as a breathtaking, visionary leap forward right away; I became obsessed by it, in fact. It was literally a dream come true to experience this album. And so eager was I to thank Mister Brian Eno for what he’d done on this gem of an album, that I wrote him a long, long letter about it. I recall it being nearly 30 pages long. I had a LOT to say. I was in college at the time, and I spent several long sessions composing my letter… about how I’d dreamed of a music that could capture the rich experience of being out in the wilderness, how I enjoyed listening to birdsong and admired how Eno incorporated birds into the sonic fabric of some of his pieces, and how the very mysteriousness of ambient as a form was expanding in bold new ways, far from anything that could be talked about in the same breath as “new age” (which less experienced listeners often did) or the generic “mood music.” Nope, Eno had definitely conjured something brand new here, and my own world would never be the same.

HAROLD BUDD, 2018 (photo credit: MARTIN BOSTOCK PHOTOGRAPHY)

Pleasingly, I was not the only one. While here and there I would run into another Eno fan who was intrigued with his experiments, it wasn’t until the computer age that I began to realize many other people not only loved Eno’s ambient music but in fact, were passionate about the genre itself. It was the late 90s when I learned about “Hyperreal,” an internet listserv for fans of this rapidly growing style of music. As I sit here writing this, I feel overwhelmingly nostalgic about the years I spent communicating with fellow enthusiasts in this group. We regularly exchanged lists of our favorite releases, argued about the difference between “ambient” and “new age,” and turned each other on to new stuff over and over. I learned about Pete Namlook and the FAX label in this group, which was very significant for me personally. And, I hungered for an updated “Most Popular Ambient” list after seeing modest lists done by one or two members in the period before I joined. So, in 2001, I volunteered to do a very intensive “Classic Ambient” survey, in which members would submit their list of ten favorite, or sometimes even twenty favorite ambient recordings of all time. But I wanted it to be even bigger… I decided to also contact some DJs on electronic music shows, and some music journalists who were NOT part of the Hyperreal group. I wanted this survey to really COUNT, for anyone interested in this still “relatively” rarefied type of music. The amount of time I spent on this thing and the good timing of it helped make this one of the most widely read and useful pieces I ever put on the internet. It is STILL online, in fact, though many of the individual pieces other members submitted are long gone, including the entire beautiful 2350.org website devoted to Pete Namlook. But you can still read my 2001 survey right here:

http://music.hyperreal.org/epsilon/info/2001_classic_ambient.html

Having been able to make a small contribution to the contextualization and popularity of ambient made me almost giddy, but I still wanted more. I did another survey five years later that I think vanished into the ether. And then, I repeated my intensive approach for a survey in 2015, right before the “ambient@hyperreal” group scattered in the wind, the victim of a changing world and rapidly evolving internet/social media universe in which there were simply too many groups to even keep up with anymore. The intimacy of Hyperreal and the many friends/colleagues I’d gotten to know there was not to come my way again. Yes, I joined many other groups, and pored through survey after survey of “Best Ambient”, “Most Influential Ambient,” et cetera. There is so much literature on the subject now (though not that many published BOOKS per se), that the connoisseur can just do a google search and find himself with stuff to read for DAYS. I do it often. But the internet – and social media – have taken over our lives these days, in a way that wasn’t quite the case in the early days of the millennium. Something is DIFFERENT now. In those old days, you would learn about what was SPECIAL by talking to a (relatively) small group of peers, checking it out for yourself, and probably buying it. Nowadays, EVERYTHING can be had easily. A millions different web sites will tell you what is truly special, even about ambient. Even REDDIT has ambient pages now, and for deep research, you can go to DISCOGS, which didn’t even exist back in the heady days I spoke of earlier. It’s all available: The music, the opinions, the listings, the “expert” opinions. You just gotta sift through it all yourself. That can be fun still, to be sure. But it can also be really, really tedious.

APHEX TWIN (RICHARD DAVID JAMES), 1994 (uncredited photo)

 

AMBIENT FAVORITES: THE 2015 SURVEY…

Anyway, in the spirit of the old days, I present here, for the first time, the complete unedited 2015 survey I conducted of Ambient FAVORITES. Votes came mostly from the members of Hyperreal, a truly dedicated group of ambient listeners that I miss very much. But they also include votes from music journalists familiar with electronic music. Each listing features the artist, the name of the particular album, and then the number of total votes that album received. As with any genre, ambient has branched out into “sub-genres”, something you quickly start to learn about when you explore this sonic terrain. It is beyond the scope of my little article here to go through all that, but here are a few examples: there is something called “dark ambient” (probably just what you think it is), “ethno-ambient,” “ambient classical,” “environmental ambient” (possibly redundant since it is ALL rather environmental, but the idea here is that such recordings tend to include more nature sounds or field recordings), et cetera. “Space music,” “drone” and even “IDM” (which stands for “intelligent dance music”) are recognized labels that very much can fall under the ambient banner. There’s plenty more, believe me.

STARS OF THE LID, 2012 (BRIAN MCBRIDE, ADAM WILTZIE) (uncredited photo)

I guess in conclusion, I would say that ambient has most certainly evolved into its own musical universe, with a zillion pathways you can explore. You could spend weeks on YouTube listening to stuff that is available without spending a cent, or you can find carefully curated Spotify playlists of splendid ambient selections. Or, you can do it old school, and actually PURCHASE the original discs, something I do proudly. That can be a challenge, frankly, as far too many ambient recordings, including nearly the entire FAX catalogue, were released in strictly limited editions. Yes, stuff is available on Ebay, and by God, a lot is still available on Amazon. But get it from the individual ambient labels if you can or the artists themselves. They put considerable effort into making their specialized music… wouldn’t you feel great supporting them? Sadly, I would say that at least half the ambient music made these days is only available via digital download. I know by direct communication with some artists that they just don’t go to the time and trouble to manufacture CDs anymore. But we loved those little plastic discs back in the days of Hyperreal, and some of us still play ’em. If I want my Stars of the Lid or Tim Hecker or Steve Roach or Biosphere or Harold Budd classics, I just go to my nice little shelves, where it’s all in alpha order. And yeah, I love the artwork, the vibes and reading the credits. It’s all part of the experience.

BRIAN ENO, 2018 (photo courtesy: THE ASSOCIATED PRESS)

As I said, ambient will soon celebrate its 50th anniversary. 2022 was Brian Eno’s 50th anniversary as an active musician and recording artist… he was a founder member of Roxy Music in 1972, and some consider the first album he made with Robert Fripp the next year, NO PUSSYFOOTING, to be a progenitor of ambient. By any standard, Eno was the first major “name” in ambient. But that aside, if you have a taste for drifty, dreamy, droney (mostly) instrumental music that can transport you out of the dull doldrums of today’s world, it is well worth exploring what this thing called ambient is all about. And here’s what a bunch of us who love this stuff were wild about back in 2015. I present to you the full survey I did at the time, not available previously in this form…

BY THE NUMBERS: THE TOP 10…

1. Brian Eno – AMBIENT 4: ON LAND (1982) – 34 votes

2. Biosphere – SUBSTRATA (1997) – 27

3. Aphex Twin – SELECTED AMBIENT WORKS VOLUME 2 (1994) – 25

4. Brian Eno – APOLLO: ATMOSPHERES AND SOUNDTRACKS (1983) – 20

5. Global Communication – 76:14 (1994) – 18

6. Harold Budd/Brian Eno – AMBIENT 2: THE PLATEAUX OF MIRROR (1980) –

     17

7. Harold Budd/Brian Eno – THE PEARL (1984) – 14

8. Steve Roach – STRUCTURES FROM SILENCE (1984) – 13

    Stars of the Lid – THE TIRED SOUNDS OF (2001) – 13

10. Tetsu Inoue – AMBIANT OTAKU (1994) – 11

      Steve Roach – MYSTIC CHORDS AND SACRED SPACES (2003) – 11

…AND THE REST

Brian Eno – AMBIENT 1: MUSIC FOR AIRPORTS (1978) – 10

The KLF – CHILL OUT (1990) – 10

Robert Rich – SOMNIUM (2004) – 10

Steve Roach – DREAMTIME RETURN (1988) – 10

Stars of the Lid – AND THEIR REFINEMENT OF THE DECLINE (2007) – 10

Robert Rich & Alio Die – FISSURES (1997) – 9

Harold Budd/John Foxx – TRANSLUCENCE/DRIFT MUSIC (2011) – 8

Future Sound of London – LIFEFORMS (1994) – 8

Robert Rich – TRANCES/DRONES (1984) – 8

A Winged Victory For The Sullen – A WINGED VICTORY FOR THE SULLEN

       (2011) – 8

Max Corbacho – ARS LUCIS (2009) – 7

Brian Eno – THURSDAY AFTERNOON (1985) – 7

Tetsu Inoue – WORLD RECEIVER (1996) – 7

Pete Namlook – AIR 2 (1994) – 7

Woob – 1194 (1994) – 7

Aloof Proof – PIANO TEXT (2007) – 6

Brian Eno – NEROLI (1993) – 6

Jon Hassell – LAST NIGHT THE MOON CAME DROPPING ITS CLOTHES…

        (2009) – 6

James Johnson and Stephen Philips – LOST AT DUNN’S LAKE (2001) – 6

Lustmord and Robert Rich – STALKER (1995) – 6

Steve Roach – THE MAGNIFICENT VOID (1996) – 6

David Sylvian – PLIGHT AND PREMONITION (1988) – 6

Tangerine Dream – PHAEDRA (1974) – 6

Aphex Twin – SELECTED AMBIENT WORKS ’85-92 (1992) – 5

 

Fripp and Eno – EVENING STAR (1975) – 5

HIA/Biosphere – POLAR SEQUENCES (1996) – 5

ISHQ – ORCHID (2001) – 5

Pete Namlook – SILENCE V (2001) – 5

Vidna Obmana – LANDSCAPE IN OBSCURITY (1999) – 5

Steve Roach – QUIET MUSIC (1986) – 5

Steve Roach/Vidna Obmana – WELL OF SOULS (1995) – 5

Michael Stearns – PLANETARY UNFOLDING (1981) – 5

Tangerine Dream – RUBYCON (1975) – 5

The Dead Texan – THE DEAD TEXAN (2009) – 4

Deaf Center – PALE RAVINE (2005) – 4

Fripp and Eno – THE EQUATORIAL STARS (2004) – 4

Hammock – MAYBE THEY WILL SING FOR US TOMORROW (2008) – 4

Tim Hecker – RADIO AMOR (2012) – 4

Steve Hillage – RAINBOW DOME MUSIC (1991) – 4

 

Bill Laswell – AXIOM AMBIENT: LOST IN THE TRANSLATION (1994) – 4

Pete Namlook – SILENCE (1993) – 4

Pete Namlook/Tetsu Inoue – 62 EULENGASSE (1995) – 4

Vidna Obmana – RIVER OF APPEARANCE (1996) – 4

The Orb – ORBUS TERRARUM (1995) – 4

Steve Roach – THE DREAM CIRCLE (1994) – 4

David Sylvian – GONE TO EARTH (second disc) (1986) – 4

Tangerine Dream – ZEIT (1971) – 4

TUU – ALL OUR ANCESTORS (1994) – 4

Kit Watkins – THOUGHT TONES VOL. 1 (1990) – 4

Autechre – AMBER (1994) – 3

Autumn of Communion – AUTUMN OF COMMUNION (2012) – 3

Biosphere – CIRQUE (2000) – 3

Biosphere – MICROGRAVITY (1991) – 3

Biosphere – SHENZHOU (2002) – 3

Boards of Canada – MUSIC HAS A RIGHT TO CHILDREN (1998) – 3

Harold Budd – AVALON SUTRA (2005) – 3

Stevie B-Zet – ARCHAIC MODULATION (1993) – 3

Carbon Based Lifeforms – WORLD OF SLEEPERS (2006) – 3

Coil – TIME MACHINES (2000) – 3

Alio Die – SUSPENDED FEATHERS (1996) – 3

 

Brian Eno – DISCREET MUSIC (1975) – 3

Gas – GAS (1996) – 3

Jeff Greinke – LOST TERRAIN (1992) – 3

Tim Hecker – HAUNT ME HAUNT ME DO IT AGAIN (2001) – 3

Tetsu Inoue – INLAND (2007) – 3

Jean-Michel Jarre – OXYGENE (1976) – 3

Thomas Koner – DAIKAN (2002) – 3

Thomas Koner – PERMAFROST (1993) – 3

Thomas Koner – TEIMO (1992) – 3

Loscil – PLUME (2006) – 3

Lustmord – THE PLACE WHERE THE BLACK STARS HANG (1997) – 3

Cliff Martinez – SOLARIS (soundtrack) (2002) – 3

Murcof – REMEMBRANZA (2005) – 3

Pete Namlook – AIR (1993) – 3

Pete Namlook/Tetsu Inoue – SHADES OF ORION 2 (1995) – 3

Pete Namlook/Tetsu Inoue – 2350 BROADWAY (1993) – 3

Pete Namlook/Geir Jenssen – THE FIRES OF ORK (1993) – 3

Pauline Oliveros/Stuart Dempster/Panaiotis – DEEP LISTENING (1989) – 3

Oophoi – HYMN TO A SILENT SKY (2005) – 3

The Orb – ADVENTURES BEYOND THE ULTRAWORLD (1991) – 3

O Yuki Conjugate – EQUATOR (1995) – 3

Jeff Pearce – DAYLIGHT SLOWLY (1998) – 3

Jeff Pearce – TO THE SHORES OF HEAVEN (2000) – 3

Max Richter – THE BLUE NOTEBOOKS (2004) – 3

Riceboy Sleeps – RICEBOY SLEEPS (2009) – 3

Steve Roach/Robert Rich – STRATA (1990) – 3

Steve Roach – DYNAMIC STILLNESS (2009) – 3

Klaus Schulze – MIRAGE (1977) – 3

Klaus Schulze – TIMEWIND (1975) – 3

Shuttle 358 – UNDERSTANDING WILDLIFE (2002) – 3

Sleep Research Facility – NOSTROMO (2001) – 3

David Sylvian – ALCHEMY (1985) – 3

David Sylvian – APPROACHING SILENCE (1999) – 3

Vangelis – BLADE RUNNER (OST) (1993) – 3

Paul Vnuk Junior – SILENCE SPEAKS IN SHADOW (2001) – 3

Yagya – RIGNING (2009) – 3

Susumu Yokoto – SAKURA (2000) – 3

Another Fine Day – LIFE BEFORE LAND (1994) – 2

A Produce – SMILE ON THE VOID (2001) – 2

Olafur Arnalds – FOR NOW I AM WINTER (2013) – 2

Autumn of Communion – AUTUMN OF COMMUNION 2 (2013) – 2

Baked Beans – BAKED BEANS (1993) – 2

William Basinski – THE DISINTEGRATION LOOPS (2002) – 2

Beautumn – WHITE COFFEE (2005) – 2

David Behrman – ON THE OTHER OCEAN (1977) – 2

Biosphere – DROPSONDE (2005) – 2

Thom Brennan – SILVER (2005) – 2

Thom Brennan – VIBRANT WATER (2000) – 2

Gavin Bryars – THE SINKING OF THE TITANIC (1975) – 2

Harold Budd – THE PAVILION OF DREAMS (1978) – 2

Harold Budd – THE WHITE ARCADES (1988) – 2

Bvdub – SONGS FOR A FRIEND I LEFT BEHIND (2011) – 2

Carbon Based Lifeforms – HYDROPONIC GARDEN (2003) – 2

Carbon Based Lifeforms – TWENTYTHREE (2011) – 2

Cluster and Eno – CLUSTER AND ENO (1977) – 2

Max Corbacho – BREATHSTREAM (2008) – 2

Danna and Clement – NORTH OF NIAGARA (1995) – 2

Deep Space Network and Doctor Atmo – I.F. 2 (1994) – 2

Vladislav Delay – ANIMA (2001) – 2

Alio Die and Antonio Testa – REVERIE (2012) – 2

Fennesz – BLACK SEA (2008) – 2

Edgar Froese – YPSILON IN MALAYSIAN PALE (1975) – 2

Future Sound of London – ISDN (1994) – 2

Peter Gabriel – PASSION (soundtrack) (1989) – 2

Gas – KONIGSFORST (1998) – 2

Gas – ZAUBERBERG (1997) – 2

Gas – POP (2000) – 2

Global Communication – PENTAMEROUS METAMORPHOSIS (1993) – 2

Harmonia – MUSIK VON HARMONIA (1974) – 2

Jon Hassell – DREAM THEORY IN MALAYA (1981) – 2

Jon Hassell – THE SURGEON OF THE NIGHT SKY RESTORES DEAD

          THINGS… (1987) – 2

Heavenly Music Corporation – CONSCIOUSNESS III (1994) – 2

Tim Hecker – HARMONY IN ULTRAVIOLET (2009) – 2

Tim Hecker – RAVEDEATH, 1972 (2011) – 2

Hecq – NIGHT FALLS (2008) – 2

H.I.A./Biosphere – BIRMINGHAM FREQUENCIES (2000) – 2

Michael Hoenig – DEPARTURE FROM THE NORTHERN WASTELAND

          (1978) – 2

H.U.V.A. Network – EPHEMERIS (2009) – 2

Tetsu Inoue – ORGANIC CLOUD (1995) – 2

Tetsu Inoue – ZENITH (1994) – 2

Tetsu Inoue/Jonah Sharp – ELECTROHARMONIX (1994) – 2

Irezumi – ENDURANCE (2008) – 2

The Irresistible Force – FLYING HIGH (1992) – 2

The Irresistible Force – IT’S TOMORROW ALREADY (1998) – 2

Johann Johannsen – FORDLANDIA (2008) – 2

James Johnson – SURRENDER (1999) – 2

James Johnson/Robert Scott Thompson – FORGOTTEN PLACES (2001) – 2

Journeyman – MAMA 6 (1994) – 2

The KLF – SPACE AND CHILLOUT (1995) – 2

Koda – MOVEMENTS (2004) – 2

Thomas Koner – AUBRITE (1995) – 2

Kraftwerk – AUTOBAHN (1974) – 2

Loscil – FIRST NARROWS (2004) – 2

Loscil – SEA ISLAND (2014) – 2

Loscil – SUBMERS (2002) – 2

Lull – COLD SUMMER (1994) – 2

Marconi Union – A LOST CONNECTION (2008) – 2

An Mlo Production – LO (1994) – 2

Modeste – A MOUNTAIN OF CONVENIENCE (2009) – 2

Pete Namlook – SILENCE II (1993) – 2

Pete Namlook – SPRING (1994) – 2

Pete Namlook – SUMMER (1995) – 2

Pete Namlook/H.I.A. – S.H.A.D.O. (1997) – 2

Numina – SANCTUARY OF DREAMS (2004) – 2

Vidna Obmana – THE SURREAL SANCTUARY (2000) – 2

Vidna Obmana – THE TRILOGY (1996) – 2

Oophoi – ATHLIT (2002) – 2

Oophoi – THE SPIRALS OF TIME (1998) – 2

The Orb – POMME FRITZ (1994) – 2

Stephen Philips – DESERT LANDSCAPES (1998) – 2

Pub – DO YOU EVER REGRET PANTOMIME? (2001) – 2

Robert Rich – BELOW ZERO (1998) – 2

Robert Rich – HUMIDITY (2000) – 2

Robert Rich – NEST (2012) – 2

Terry Riley – A RAINBOW IN CURVED AIR (1969) – 2

Steve Roach – ATMOSPHERIC CONDITIONS (1999) – 2

Steve Roach – MIDNIGHT MOON (2000) – 2

Steve Roach – ARTIFACTS/ORIGINS (1994) – 2

Steve Roach/Vidna Obmana – ASCENSION OF SHADOWS (1999) – 2

Steve Roach/Robert Rich – SOMA (1992) – 2

Steve Roach/Vir Unis – BLOOD MACHINE (2001) – 2

Bruno Sanfilippo/Mathias Grassow – CROMO (2010) – 2

Paul Schutze – APART (1995) – 2

Jonn Serrie – AND THE STARS GO WITH YOU (1988) – 2

Adham Shaikh – JOURNEY TO THE SUN (1995) – 2

Shuttle 358 – OPTIMAL (1999) – 2

Solar Fields – EXTENDED (2005) – 2

Solar Quest – ORGSHIP (1994) – 2

Spacetime Continuum – ALIEN DREAMTIME (1993) – 2

Stars of the Lid – AVEC LAUDENUM (2002) – 2

Michael Stearns – THE LOST WORLD (1995) – 2

Saul Stokes – OUTFOLDING (2000) – 2

Saul Stokes – ZO PILOTS (1998) – 2

Tim Story – BEGUILED (1991) – 2

Sun Electric – 30.7.94 LIVE (1995) – 2

Suspended Memories – FORGOTTEN GODS (1992) – 2

David Sylvian/Holger Czukay – FLUX AND MUTABILITY (1989) – 2

David Tagg – WAIST DEEP IN SEAS OF MILK (2007) – 2

Vangelis – BEAUBOURG (1978) – 2

Vangelis – L’APOCALYPSE DES ANIMAUX (1973) – 2

Various Artists – A STORM OF DRONES: THE SOMBIENT TRILOGY (1995) – 2

Wagon Christ – PHAT LAB NIGHTMARE (1994) – 2

A Winged Victory For The Sullen – ATOMOS (2014) – 2

Woob – WOOB 2 (1995) – 2

Zero Ohms – 369 (2013) – 2

 

IN SEARCH OF YOUR “BLUE DIAMONDS”

STEVE ROACH, 2022 (photo credit: FRANK BEISSEL)

As I stated in my main essay about ambient music, there’s a tendency towards “Best of” lists that seems more suited to this genre than others. Ambient is NOT a universally adored style of music; it’s generally quiet, non-flashy and suitable more for private reflection than the kind of communal involvement prevalent in rock & roll or country, for example. It’s rare to find ambient connoisseurs passionately debating ANY particular issue… most agree Brian Eno was either the godfather or the “chief contextualizer” of the genre (unequivocally he’s the one who NAMED the genre), and you might see the occasional thread about whether it can still be called “ambient” if it has vocals or drums; I remember debates about that back in the Hyperreal days early in the millennium, along with the always fascinating “How does ambient differ from new age?” discussion. I like that one, myself. But fans take this music PERSONALLY, and they love their lists. In the three giant surveys I did in the Hyperreal era, participation was pretty enthusiastic, and everyone wanted to know what everyone ELSE voted for. Nowadays, you can hop on the DISCOGS site or “Rate Your Music” and find lists of global ambient favorites with just a few clicks. Yes, people are still listmaking, and it does my heart good to see that this genre I love so much still has a large following, and even shines a light on obscure or new but maybe under-promoted releases quite often. For anyone ignorant enough of the style to say something like “Isn’t it all just a bunch of droney background noise or synthesizer squiggles?”, well, we enthusiasts will respond “NO!” very aggressively. If you spend any time at all exploring the ambient world, you’ll find startling variety. Sure, synthesizers and keyboards are used routinely, but so are strings (“ambient classical” is a thing), guitars, cellos, brass, field recordings and yes, vocals sometimes. Part of the thrill of being an ambient lover is finding stuff that sounds like nothing you’ve ever heard before. When Eno released the landmark ON LAND, reviewers and fans alike marveled at how you couldn’t even TELL what the instrumentation was at times. It’s often in the MIXING of the sounds that sheer magic would result and prove to be transportive; that is something Eno instinctively pursued.

TIM HECKER, 2016 (photo credit: PAWEL PTAK)

So absolutely NO, it does NOT all “sound alike.” Ambient has crappy, weak recordings just like any other genre, and it also has stone classics like work produced by Eno, Biosphere, Robert Rich, Stars of the Lid, Tim Hecker and many, many others. I tend to think that when a fan makes his list of favorites in the ambient realm, it will consist of albums he’s played many, many times and developed a personal connection to. Ambient GROWS on you if you let it, and it’s adaptable to a wide variety of listening situations. I’ve played it in my car while traveling, in my room while resting or working on a project, and in the old days, I’d offer it as suitable music for small gatherings where everyone wanted something “pretty” or evocative in the background. I had a couple of spectacular experiences in that context when I used to visit friends who lived in Colorado. Ambient can be the ultimate “scenic music” for a scenic setting. And it has the ability to SURPRISE the listener who has an open mind and receptive ears. I love that about this genre, truly.

PETE NAMLOOK (uncredited photo)

 

MY PERSONAL FAVORITES (TODAY)

One more thing to note before I share my list of favorites. Although it seems to be accepted these days, much to the chagrin of some of us, that CDs are no longer the most desirable music format, right up until a year or two before the pandemic they were still the main way that ambient music was sold and “discovered.” There were boutique labels out there like Hypnos, Infraction and the now-defunct but highly influential FAX label in Germany. Some other fantastic labels like Kranky Records in Chicago put out stellar ambient releases along with indie rock and flat out experimental titles; they became the home for Stars of the Lid and many others. Steve Roach, a “superstar” of the genre releases a ton of stuff on the big label Project, as well as his own personal “Timeroom” editions based in Arizona. So you could generally FIND the CDs if you sought them out, but… the limited sales potential of ambient caused many artists to release only limited editions of their work. FAX was known all along for this; label head Pete Namlook realized he could keep his costs down by releasing titles in editions of just 1,000 or 2,000. If they were popular enough to sell out, he had a separate label agreement to reissue such titles. That it happened QUITE often tells you that ambient had its devoted followers, for sure. And in the last few years of Fax (Namlook passed away in 2012, pretty much ending an entire sonic empire), Namlook released editions in a limitation of just 500. Nearly all of those sold out, with almost NO reissues, making many titles highly sought after and ultra expensive on Ebay, DISCOGS and elsewhere. Good luck even finding a lot of that stuff nowadays. The point is, the uniqueness of ambient and the way the internet allowed even obscure artists to be talked about and to get attention, meant that a high “collectibility quotient” was part of what drove more dedicated ambient fans to seek out various titles. I will always be grateful I followed an impulse one day years ago to purchase an evocative sounding limited edition on the Infraction label titled A WARM WOODEN HOLLOW. It was by an Ohio-based artist named Milieu. This release went on to become one of my absolute, all-time favorite “Blue Diamond” ambient recordings. But you simply cannot get it anymore at ALL; the artist himself has no more copies (I know, because I corresponded with him). So, this is the sort of thing that keeps ambient fanatics on their toes. Even a decade after Pete Namlook’s death, fans are seeking out his music and sometimes paying big bucks to do it. Sure, YouTube and other sites have made it possible to listen to a whole universe of ambient music without paying a cent. And virtually EVERY ambient artist either has a BANDCAMP presence or makes their music available as digital downloads quite reasonably. But if you want to OWN the music, on the CD (or in rare cases, vinyl) where you also got the artwork, and have it displayed properly on a handsome shelf, well, that often proved to be the most enjoyable place to have your ambient collection and revisit it in a tangible manner whenever you liked. That’s how I still do it. And I doubt I’ll give up my collection any time soon, because it truly enhances my life.

WILLIAM BASINSKI, 2011 (photo credit: JAMES ELAINE)

In every ambient survey I was involved with, there was some flexibility about how MANY “favorites” you submitted; most people went with ten or twenty, some of them complaining that it was hard to narrow it down to even THAT. On DISCOGS, I routinely see lists of “top 40,” “top 50” and even up to 100 favorites at times. There is a ton of music out there, folks! I saved in my email my own list of “20 All Time Favorites” which stayed fairly consistent after roughly 2012 or so. For our purposes here, I’m only going to share my TOP 10, as I find that a worthy enough challenge, and wanted to see if I’d still argue my case for each of my inclusions. Each is a bonafide gem, a work I not only can listen to any time but positively REVERE. Ambient is genuinely a compelling musical universe to explore if you have that kind of receptivity in your genetic makeup. So here then are some of the greatest titles produced in the genre, according to ME.

BRIAN ENO, 1982 (video capture courtesy BBC TWO RIVERSIDE)

Brian Eno: AMBIENT 4: ON LAND Mysterious, dense landscape music that was so overwhelming to me, I wrote several essays about it and a long letter to Eno himself. The absolute fulfillment of a kind of “dream music” I imagined for years during expeditions out in nature. Eno had already raised the bar so high with DISCREET MUSIC and AMBIENT 1: MUSIC FOR AIRPORTS. But ON LAND created its own fresh spooky universe that only a handful of artists have been able to emulate.

Harold Budd/Brian Eno: AMBIENT 2: THE PLATEAUX OF MIRROR Eno’s two collaborations with piano visionary and heir to the throne of Erik Satie, Harold Budd (THE PEARL is their second collaboration) are now legendary, and routinely make almost everyone’s list of favorites. You’ll see how high they place on the 2015 survey I did. I could have included either album on my list, but I’m going with this 1981 release for its stark minimalist beauty and the fact that the title track is still my very favorite short ambient piece of all time, which is saying a lot.

Aphex Twin: SELECTED AMBIENT WORKS VOLUME 2 This two-disc set has the distinction of being potent enough to inspire one of those little books in the popular 33 1/3 series, in this case a book by Marc Weidenbaum. Weirdo British electronica whiz Richard D. James has released music under different names for nearly a quarter of a century, and VOLUME ONE of the above title was a more accessible, influential and popular electronica album overall. But SAW II, as we enthusiasts call it, is a massive collection of highly original pieces inspired by lucid dreaming; it’s unsettling, diverse and absolutely devoted to its mission of giving the listener a strange and haunting ambient universe to explore. My experience listening to it through headphones on an overnight train journey out west is something I will NEVER forget.

Milieu: A WARM WOODEN HOLLOW God, do I cherish this out-of-print title. A few times listening to it while driving through winery country endeared it to me on a deep level. It has a blissful “aesthetic vagueness” to it that is perfect for a scenic drive, and Brian Grainger, the wunderkind behind this entity as well as others, including Coppice Halifax, has a knack for conjuring beautiful, unexpected soundscapes that he gives you time to revel in. It’s very hard to describe this brand of ambient. It’s melancholy, yearning and foggy, and unusually original for a primarily keyboard-based sound.

Robert Rich: TRANCES/DRONES Deep, immersive “widescreen” ambient. Rich has been a consistent composer/producer for decades, and his music often achieves a sonic depth that is unparalleled. What you get here are long, dark drones that could be suitable for meditation or a generally restless night. You’ll find yourself floating far away to this stuff, whether you intend that or not.

Pete Namlook: AIR 2 I personally regard the Fax label’s genius founder as the main person besides Brian Eno who truly “understood” the vast potential of what was being called “ambient” music. Namlook was THE most prolific composer/producer of the genre, with several HUNDRED titles to his credit if you include all the collaborations that also bore his name. AIR 1 and AIR 2 quickly became classics of “ethno-ambient,” featuring tribal percussion, French and Arabic sounds often hard to pin down, shakers and rainsticks, and all sorts of other instrumentation. AIR 2 is beautifully listenable and hypnotic, and certain to be unlike anything you’ve ever heard. It’s intended to be a “journey without moving,” although something will sure move inside you when you listen to this masterpiece.

Steve Roach: MYSTIC CHORDS AND SACRED SPACES Roach is the MASTER of modern ambient exploration. He’s the most prolific living composer in the realm, and his Timeroom studio in the southern Arizona desert is now legendary, as are his rare live concerts. MYSTIC CHORDS is a massive four-CD set that includes both short pieces and side-long sonic journeys; it’s completely and totally immersive. And I love it especially for pieces like “Wren and Raven” which use bird calls and other natural sounds in the most organic, hypnotic manner. You probably can’t even get through all this epicness in one sitting, but as a powerful, richly textured ambient journey, it has very few peers.

Stars of the Lid: THE TIRED SOUNDS OF STARS OF THE LID Adam Wiltzie and Brian McBride seem like humble, ordinary guys, but together they created a strings-based ambient entity that rapidly earned them a large cult following. They truly created their own style, and largely let their expansive, haunting music speak for itself. This very popular album, a two-record set with a striking yellow cover, has sad-sounding titles like “Requiem for Dying Mothers,” “Austin Texas Mental Hospital” and “The Lonely People (Are Getting Lonelier)”. Whatever you might imagine such music to sound like, chances are it DOES, or goes beyond that. At least a few moments in this set are among the most beautiful moments I have ever heard in ANY musical genre, and the works of SOTL nearly ALWAYS rate high in lists of ambient favorites.

Koda: MOVEMENTS If there is such a thing as “friendly, reassuring ambient,” this disc might be a good example. The music here is not headed for outer space or darker realms of the imagination; instead, it is grounded, ethereal tonally accessible music for what’s here and now, observable right in front of you. It soothes, whereas an artist like Aphex Twin or Lustmord might terrify. Another gem on the always reliable Infraction label, this summation from the Amazon page should suffice: “MOVEMENTS is a work of drifting, beautiful and ethereal soundscapes with a lightly classical leaning and it really does do the job in style… there’s a deeply enthralling tone to the whole work.”

James Johnson/Stephen Phillips: LOST AT DUNN’S LAKE I’m not sure how available this one is anymore, but I’m choosing it because it SO captures the feeling of being in a remote cabin on the shore of some northern lake while a consistent rain falls. Repetitive, moody and delicate, this is a good example of ambient’s ability to totally capture a specific mood and setting. Back in the Hyperreal glory days, the members would exchange recommendations and often write lovely things about their favorites. A guy whose name I can’t remember wrote an incredibly haunting description of this album and how it took him back to days of camping with his father when he was young, somewhere in Minnesota or Wisconsin. Wish I could find that passage. It was perfect to convey the sleepy, nostalgic mood of this “lost” ambient classic.

TARANOYA: BECOMING

(SOUND AS LANGUAGE; 2021)


I have been writing about ambient music for many years, as it is the still under-appreciated genre I MOST find myself able to get immersed in. From those heady early days decades ago when Brian Eno contextualized a new sound that could function as either foreground or background and that would serve as “a tint, an atmosphere,” as he put it, rather than something you had to experience in a traditional listening mode, to the myriad of variations the genre sprouted in the modern age (Ambient Jazz, Ambient Classical, Ethno-Ambient, Dark Ambient, space music, et cetera ad nauseum), I’ve been riveted by the endless universe of sound that the misleading term “ambient” can encompass. I honestly can’t think of another musical banner, excepting maybe “indie rock” or “art rock,” that will accommodate so many types of music. It’s because of how the music is supposed to FUNCTION for the average listener, the fact that it needs to be workable as background music, but also to reward close listening, that helps it to live up to Eno’s definition.

TARANOYA (promotional image)

Imagine my delight, then, to come across the Iranian born, Portland-based female composer/vocalist/producer Taranoya (Taraneh Schmidt), whose new release
BECOMING is just about the most enthralling thing I have heard this year. It’s all dreamy, drifty, ethereal soft vocals, most of it essentially wordless although there ARE some intended lyrics, floating through beds of gentle droney synthesizer. Reference points don’t immediately come to mind… some of Liz Fraser’s aesthetic on the Cocteau Twins’ VICTORIALAND disc in particular would be one door in. I also was reminded here and there of a Kranky label artist named Jessica Bailiff, as well as scattered tracks from other ambient artists who’ve utilized feather-soft female vocals in the background. But what we have here is an entire album’s worth of this sumptuous sound, and it’s pretty singular in my view. And singularly PRETTY, without ever being vacuous or saccharine. That’s no mean feat, and it speaks wonders for Taranoya’s soulful, deeply contemplative vibe. I am almost shocked at how blissfully haunting this recording is, and how it manages to avoid nearly every cliche of the genre. Releases in this sonic terrain can sink rather rapidly if the lyrics are too upfront and take you out of the dreamy web you want to get stuck in, or if the instrumentation veers too much into the “new age” realm. Without wanting to irritate fans of new age (and I have some records that would fall under that banner myself), I am experienced enough with this kind of stuff to be able to tell the difference between New Age and Ambient, something that connoisseurs used to argue about on the net, back when these things were viewed as more consequential. What many of us viewed as new age seldom stood up to late-night scrutiny, as it aims for the lightest and most undemanding of moods while being generally quite restricted in its ambition, with some exceptions. Taranoya’s BECOMING, my friends, is very definitely AMBIENT music, and that’s a compliment. It’s lush, lulling, pastoral dream music conjured by a woman who seems to intuitively know that heading right for your subconscious, the place you inhabit when your intellect is turned off, makes for a far more satisfying sound experience than adhering to the parameters of the more typical offerings in this ballpark.

TARANOYA (promotional photo)

I personally LOVE music that appeals to a sort of “half asleep” state, and has a quality of being totally removed from mundane or stress-induced concerns, the kind we all battle daily. “Accidents” is eight minutes of beautiful keyboard drone that invites you to get comfy, serves you a fruit-infused beverage like nothing you’ve imbibed before, and then puts you at rapt attention as your charming host murmurs things to you that you can’t quite hear but you don’t care… her voice hypnotizes you and pulls you right into a place you would be happy to just never leave. “Heavenly” is an overused adjective in the ambient world, but… this IS heavenly, mes amis. What Taranoya’s voice does between 4:27 and about 4:43 on this track may be the single most beautiful moment I’ve experienced in a piece of music this year. The whole track is a wonder, really. A little bit of spoken word at the end adds to the feeling you’re in a partial dream state sitting in a cushioned chair at the airport or something. “You’re Only Breaking Down” is an even longer track, commencing with a Cocteaus-style flourish before Taranoya goes full feminine vocal allure in the middle of the mix. It’s like hearing your favorite cat purring happily, with neither one of you inclined to move even a smidge from where you’re currently located. And I was awestruck by the artist’s discipline to keep the keyboard sounds so subtly in the background, never showing off for even a moment. The dream state rules here, aesthetically. Works for me!

“Thinking About You” does get a shade more familiar initially, with the main synthesizer being not too far removed from the odd Tangerine Dream release or even early Pink Floyd. But from about the two-minute mark on, the sort of “otherly” ambient strangeness we fans always hope for kicks in, and Taranoya proves once again she’ll opt for originality and the sonic multi-verse over any formula or “non-genre” tenets. I was fully spellbound by the time this track was over, and knew I’d be a fan of this gal from here on out.

TARANOYA (promotional photo)

On “Let the Air,” the vocals are the most “conventional”; you can just about hear some actual words and there’s a touch more normalcy if that’s what you prefer (love the ending, though). And “Do I Return” has what is clearly a piano, not some obscure synth setting stumbled across in the wee hours of the morning when otherliness rules in the studio. It’s still very pretty. But the long track “Wake Me Up Rush” returns to the killer combo of Taranoya’s ethereal voice and the airy synth settings she tends to favor, with a low-frequency drone entering stage left at about the four-minute mark that adds some unexpected gripping energy. Subtle variety in a tapestry of sound that is uniformly lulling, is what makes this set something of an ambient classic, ethno-femme division (“fembient”? “womenbient”? What moniker should we give, exactly, to characterize the sub-genre of ambient where a deeply compassionate and yes, angelic female presence, is at the center of the sound? And is that even worth pursuing?). I’m in love with this music, and I thank this spellbinding artist for truly forging some new territory on BECOMING. Taranoya strikes deep… into your life it will creep, if you decide to check this out and float away among the clouds of bliss that this very visionary and wondrous artist has to offer.

TARANOYA (promotional image)

(BECOMING is currently available as a limited edition of 100 cassettes, as well as the obligatory digital download)

JOE OLNICK: WINK OF AN EYE

(SELF-RELEASED; 2020)

You gotta have patience to appreciate straight drone music. You know that expression people commonly use where someone talks too much? They’ll say of the party in question, “Oh he just drones on and on… ” In other words, someone is making a repetitive noise that someone else quickly gets tired of. Many listeners would say that about a lot of ambient music, especially the sub-genre that is primarily drone-based. But as a devoted ambient acolyte, I appreciate a good immersive drone, and Joe Olnick offers three of them on this here self-released outing. Olnick is a guitarist and producer mostly known for a sort of rock/funk/jazz hybrid that his Joe Olnick Band traffics in (“Funky Traffic” and “Downtown” earned spins on college radio). But he also digs ambient, and has been exploring the possibilities of what the guitar can do when, well, you process the shit out of it so it doesn’t hardly sound like a guitar anymore. WINK OF AN EYE apparently began as brief sections borrowed from an earlier ambient recording called BRIGHT PAINTINGS, and Olnick used what he calls “advanced processing techniques” to conjure up some layered space music.

There are only 3 pieces on this disc, curiously titled “Slow Funky Buildings,” “Slow Bright Buildings” and “Slow Modern Buildings.” All three are, you got it, slow. These are drones that can work as background ambience, and they are pleasant and captivating enough to hold your attention should you choose to pay it. But you won’t be suddenly bombarded by rude sonic bursts of weirdness, either. The “Slow Funky” track is most assuredly NOT funky… it’s made of subtly changing soundwaves that might remind you of a wild seashore, where the water comes into shore dramatically and then recedes. “Waves” is really the best word to describe this stuff. Not that much happens, but it’s still hypnotic. At 26 minutes, the “Slow Bright” track is longest, and it starts off more abrasive and metallic than its predecessor. I was reminded of Fripp and Eno’s “An Index of Metals,” only not as ominous as that opus. Olnick is not out to unnerve anyone; this really seems to be an exercise in how ambient a guitar can get when you manipulate the output very thoroughly. The answer? VERY ambient. You could possibly drift off to sleep with this one, although I wouldn’t call it “serene” or anything. “Slow Modern Buildings” does approach a kind of serenity, though. It’s a modest 11 minutes long, and turns the “evocative” dial up to at least “7.” You could take chunks of this piece and use ‘em in some arty indie film or documentary about wild places. Without any such context? You basically get a Joe Olnick ambient drone trio, which will be enough for some of us. No less than the legendary Robert Rich mastered this recording, which should tell you two things: One, it sounds terrific and enveloping, and two, Rich thought highly enough of the sonic excursions here to put his name on them.

JOE OLNICK (publicity photo)

You could say of virtually ANY ambient disc, “it’s not for everyone.” And this may bore non aficionados, for sure. But there is something very comfortable and unassuming about Olnick’s relaxed space music; he offers it up with the confidence that some folks will find it worthwhile. Olnick is NOT one of those artists who simply “drones on and on” without purpose. He’s got plenty of other things on his plate, but knowing he is into at least the occasional drone-fest makes WINK OF AN EYE rather special. I was a contented participant in the conversation that Olnick started with this release.

WEEKS ISLAND: DROSTE

(SELF-RELEASED DIGITAL EP; 2020)

All musical genres evolve and change, no matter what they started as. When Brian Eno coined the term “ambient” for the dreamy, drifty sound he became enamored with in the mid-’70s, it would have been impossible for him to imagine the different directions this stuff would go in over the next nearly half a century. APOLLO, the absolute ambient classic Eno created with his brother Roger and producing partner Daniel Lanois in 1983, found Lanois doing a strange thing: Introducing the pedal steel into otherwise spacey, Eno-esque soundscapes. It was an attempt to comment on astronauts reported fondness for traditional country music. Although viewed as sacrilege by ambient purists, somehow this new and unfamiliar blend worked.

Jonny Campos of Weeks Island (an ambient side project for the guitarist in Cajun band the Lost City Ramblers) was listening. He has just released DROSTE, a 5-track EP that features pedal steel and atmospheric background drone that removes almost every trace of anything you’d call “country.” This is meandering, often haunting ambience that makes a statement without wearing out its welcome. “Raccoon Island” could be the soundtrack for a couple lost in a swamp somewhere, evoking a non-panicky sort of displaced feeling, very much of the background-ish aesthetic that good ambient music excels at. “Fleur Pond” is more sparse but still gently cinematic, with Campos playing his chosen notes with definite deliberation. “Bayou La Chute” doesn’t vary too much, but the bending of a single string upward or downward adds drama and an evocation of being pretty far away from any familiar scenic touchstones. Curiously, this stuff is more purely ambient than Lanois’ diversions on the previously mentioned APOLLO. “Cybrien Bay” adds a repeating low-register tone for something a shade more intense and it contrasts nicely with Campos’ by now characteristic fluid pedal-steel flourishes. And the piece never makes it to the 3-minute mark, The opening “Point Fortuna” is nearly twice as long and represents Campos’ intention here the most memorably.

WEEKS ISLAND (Jonny Campos) (photo credit: WILL HAGAN)

With any sort of weird ambient music, it’s a given that it’s an “acquired taste.” But this is actually a nice little surprise… short, purposeful and totally authentic in its aims to create a southern-tinged atmospheric mini-set that has ambient textures but with pedal steel and the processing of it at the forefront. Let’s keep an eye and an ear on Jonny Campos; he’s demonstrated that he has a feel for this stuff, and meatier works may be in the offing down the road.

JON HASSELL: VERNAL EQUINOX

(NDEYA RECORDS; 2020 reissue)

Some artists stubbornly resist pigeonholing. I could put any number of Jon Hassell records on (and I have a fair number) at a social gathering, and I’d bet that at least one listener would come up and say, “What the heck is THIS?” It’s strange music, that’s all. And being helpful by saying “it occupies a space between ambient, Miles Davis-type jazz and world music” may or may not prepare the uninitiated. Hassell himself would eventually start branding his recordings as “Fourth World,” to signify a kind of foreign, multi-ethnic sound that, while centered around his very distinct trumpet style, would also take you somewhere new. A sort of “traditional” sound from a country that doesn’t truly exist.

JON HASSELL (David Rosenboom, Jon Hassell in 1977) (uncredited photo)

His first official album was VERNAL EQUINOX, which initially came out in 1977. It has now been remastered and reissued on Hassell’s own label. It’s kind of a disorienting little beast of a record, but it was original enough to catch the ears of Brian Eno, who wrote liner notes for this edition. Eno, of course, would go on to collaborate with Hassell on POSSIBLE MUSICS in 1980, and to produce a few records for the artist after that. For whatever it might illustrate, the noted music website Pitchfork included VERNAL EQUINOX as one of their “50 Best Ambient Albums of All Time” (it was listed at #47). And the evocative, often spacious quality of Hassell’s compositions does indeed fit comfortably into an ambient (albeit the edgy reaches of the genre) mode.

JON HASSELL (photo credit: ROMAN KOVAL)

Most of the six pieces here are exotic, a bit misty-sounding and in thrall to the otherworldly timbre of Hassell’s trumpet. The instrument is sometimes processed to sound either partially muted, or vaporous, wafting through the air of whatever planet it’s coming from. “Viva Shona” features birdsong and sparse background instrumentation, the trumpet placed front and center. “Hex” lets Hassell carry on a very distinctive conversation, his tones developing in such a lively manner that you listen close to catch the amazing process as it evolves. What sounds like rainstick and bass adorns the background. Most listeners will be especially riveted by the two centerpiece tracks “Blues Nile” and the title track. The former piece gives us a slightly distorted, granular-sounding drone over which Hassell delivers sonic bursts that sound for all the world like a warning or “call to attention” for the citizens of an alien culture. Could be a pending invasion from that tribe over the hill! The clear separation between the trumpet and the sharp-edged drone is dramatic and compelling. Around the climax of the piece, Hassell lets loose a series of notes going up and down the scale of his chosen key, and you’ll likely stop whatever you’re doing to listen closely. As for the nearly 22-minute “Vernal Equinox,” it’s thoroughly engrossing, setting up a sparse but hypnotic landscape of background drone, hand drumming and a casually meandering trumpet, as though Hassell were patiently walking a lush rainforest trail, stopping to observe here and there but recording his observations in music with great passion at appropriate intervals. It’s a marvel, this track. I can only imagine the reactions of listeners encountering it for the first time. Things finish off with the short closer “Caracas Night,” with nocturnal nature sounds and some Miles-style blowing to bid you adieu in a slightly more traditional manner. It’s not a long album, this outing, but it will definitely make you feel like you’ve been somewhere.

JON HASSELL (photo credit: ROMAN KOVAL)

Hassell’s later outings with Eno would bring him more acclaim (POWER SPOT is one of those distinct offerings), and there is more textural richness on the dramatically titled THE SURGEON OF THE NIGHT SKY RESTORES DEAD THINGS BY THE POWER OF SOUND and DREAM THEORY IN MALAYA, to name just a couple of gems. But it started here, with …EQUINOX. He’s a genuinely visionary player who took a much featured instrument and did things with it no one had ever done before. That takes a special kind of musicality and love of exploration that should certainly be celebrated.

BRENNER AND MOLENAAR: UNINVITED SAVIOR

(NEFARIOUS INDUSTRIES; 2020)

It’s a lonely life sometimes, being an ambient music fanatic. You move about each day among the uninformed, knowing you’re not like them, knowing that only this weird droning stuff speaks to you, while they’re behind the wheels of their cars uninhibitedly singing the chorus to some hip hop or indie rock thingy they recently heard streaming. Sometimes you get pulled into a conversation where you gotta answer questions like, “What IS ambient?” (this happened to me just recently), and you mumble something like, ‘Well, it’s this kinda background music that’s also interesting, that you can immerse yourself in if you want to.” Your well-meaning friends might have HEARD of Brian Eno (“didn’t he have something to do with U2 for a while?”), but start dropping names like Stars of the Lid, Biosphere or William Basinski, and more than likely you’re gonna get blank looks. That’s okay, though. I’m proud of being able to explain why ambient is NOT the same as “new age,” what qualities characterize “dark ambient,” and how some drones really transport you to another realm, while others just…drone on and on. Kinda like some of your friends. And if you get TWO ambient aficionados in a room together, well, it’s likely gonna be a LIVELY discussion. And those guys will probably stay friends. Ambient has that effect.

BRENNER AND MOLENAAR (Dave Brenner, Christian Molenaar) (photo manipulation: DAVE BRENNER)

So, David Brenner, known for his gritty sonic excursions in GridFailure, and Christian Molenaar of San Diego’s Those Darn Gnomes, have made this 82-minute monster dronefest that doesn’t really lend itself to an “easy” review. I could tell you that it sounds like the inhabitants of a nearby planet enduring yet another stormy day in the harsh environment on their planet, or you in a sort of druggy state driving your car, caught in a relentless traffic jam where you only move a few yards every 10 minutes or so, and you’re losing your ability to tell reality from haunting scenes from your subconscious, which are intermingling randomly, your desire to just sleep continuously stymied. Or, I could quote from an actual press release for this’un, which reads: “Infusing vocals, electric/acoustic/bass/pedal steel guitars, keyboards, synthesizers, organs, xylophone, harmonica, 1970s cult field recordings, resynthesis, tape manipulation, contact mic and power electronics effects, and other instrumentation tactics embodied in a vaporous haze, the three lumbering movements range between 20 and 35 minutes in length, suspending the listener within its abyssal vacuum.” I kinda like that phrase “abyssal vacuum.” Because for sure, this heavy dose of sound is dark enough to change your perception, your sense of WHERE the hell you are. “Burial Delerium” (unsettling title, that) is rather hypnotic and indicative of an unfriendly environment, sonically speaking, with sirens appearing a third of the way through, and some recognizable guitar stuff breaking the potential tedium of the ultra-thick drone. As the press release says, there is also plenty of other stuff going in and out of the mix.

As unsettling as this track might be, it’s almost PRETTY compared with the mega-darkness of the nearly 26-minute “Transfixed.” The music journal CAPTURED HOWLS has a good line: “Feels like the disorienting soundtrack that might be playing in the waiting room outside an executioner’s chamber.” I was going to say that this music would be appropriate to accompany footage of some hopeless middle east slaughter, like seeing dozens and dozens of innocents in northwest Syria blown to smithereens as they try to flee the madness of relentless attacks. It’s THAT dark, desolate and grim. The prominence of big bass flareups and elements of distortion would likely make it impossible to relax to this stuff in any way. T’ain’t pretty. When it ends, you may feel grateful.

BRENNER AND MOLENAAR (Dave Brenner, Christian Molenaar) (photo manipulation: DAVE BRENNER)

Oh, but the aural carnage is not over yet. We go from a 20-minute track to a 26-minute track to the 35-minute “Hallelujah (27 Years).” It begins with a background organ that is rather soothing compared to what preceded it, although it doesn’t last long. That’s soon swallowed up by abrasive background static with not-quite-decipherable human dialogue in the foreground. The dialogue grows more prominent until you can start making out distinctive utterances like “I have a terrible burning feeling inside.” Which you, the listener, may have in your eardrums by this point, in fact. A section that follows could be appropriate for watching the end of the world unfold: It’s just all-out apocalyptic, crossing the line from “ambient” to what I would call “hardcore experimental music.” Thick, unsympathetic dark drone. In a lengthy section about halfway through, the drama intensifies when two combative voices go at it again, possibly a pissed-off exorcist and a devilish entity of some sort. Byrne and Eno might have dug this sort of thing when they were making MY LIFE IN THE BUSH OF GHOSTS, but that album was easy listening compared to the relentless stuff assaulting the listener here. “In the name of Jesus,” one voice yells late in the mix, “You are defeated, Satan.” God, I hope so. I wouldn’t want this quarrel to continue much longer…

You may wonder at this point, “Well why, then, would I want to subject myself to this kinda thing?” It’s a valid question. There’s a place for punishing music, otherwise extreme death metal and the like would have no audience. Personally, I find most contemporary pop on the radio almost as unpleasant as this. And I’ll certainly allow that this brutal last track pushes the limits; I would likely NOT leave it on my car stereo past maybe the 20-minute mark unless I was in one of THOSE moods. It’s relentless. That said, I admire the aesthetics here. Clearly Brenner and Molenaar put serious hours of recording into this project. They wanted to create a dark, swirling SOUNDSTORM, something you could get completely lost in and overpowered by if you’re that sort. And I’d genuinely love to hear their thoughts on good and evil and the state of the world today. This record is somewhat of an apt soundtrack to the completely deteriorating state of modern civilization and morality, a real end-times missive. No, it won’t be anyone’s idea of a good time, except the most depressive fans of super dark drone-based ambient, perhaps. But it does carve out a space at the very edge of a certain kind of listening experience, and the experimental freedom you can claim when there are no commercial considerations to bother with whatsoever. I admire this UNINVITED SAVIOR project. And I did get caught up in a big chunk of the maelstrom these two guys plunge us into. But no, I won’t listen to this before I go to bed, or driving on a scenic road or anything. I mostly listen to ambient to remind me of the beauty and hope that are still out there. UNINVITED SAVIOR sounds a little too much like the wretched results of greed and hate that are pretty much wrecking up the world these days. If you need that catharsis, okay. But don’t say you haven’t been warned.

TIRILL: SAID THE SUN TO THE MOON

(FAIRY MUSIC; Norwegian import, 2019)

In a world turned increasingly ugly and amoral, sometimes all you can do is listen to your heart, and hang onto beauty wherever you can find it. That might be on the faces of loved ones, in the changing of the seasons, or in watching waves rolling into some wild shore. Norwegian singer/songwriter Tirill Mohn clearly thinks about such things, and her new album, SAID THE SUN TO THE MOON, is an elegantly simple, melancholy and yet hopeful reminder that all we see and feel is worth pausing to appreciate. The strong impression this lovely recording leaves overall is that of a weary traveler stopping for tea at the home of a trusted friend, having a sweet and empathetic conversation while unburdening his sorrows, and then continuing his journey, now just slightly more centered. Or maybe that’s just the way I felt, wishing I was that traveler, and appreciating what Tirill has to say here.

TIRILL (publicity photo)

Let’s start by mentioning the cover, the sort of thing more typically seen on ambient albums. I will never tire of seeing a CD become a beautiful object itself, in this case, one featuring a minimalist, darkish grey shoreline under a mostly cloudy sky, with photos in the booklet of leaves, seascapes and in one case, a fog-enshrouded dock, adorning the individual pages along with the lyrics in a script font. It’s all quite lovely and beckoning. “This album is dedicated to the shift of the seasons, to the beauty of nature in all its phases and changes, and to the human heart that wanders along with it, moon after moon, lifetime after lifetime,” the notes on the inside sleeve tell us. I was already shivering after I read this; I’ve never thought more about that “human heart” than I’ve done in the past couple of years. But then the music starts, as delicate as soft rain on a wooden boat dock or living room window. Tirill’s voice is gentle, soothing, with casual wisdom underscoring the words (some she wrote, some written by others). Soon you’re responding to Uno Alexander Vesje’s evocative harp playing, Sigrun Eng’s cello, Bjarne Magnus Jensen’s violin, other almost medieval-sounding instrumentation and Tirill herself singing like a woodland goddess, playing guitar sweetly for all who will listen. Season-centric songs such as “Autumn” and “Winter” are short and evocative; nothing lasts too long on this album. But there is a lovely, inspired cover of Nick Drake’s “Clothes of Sand”; it’s worth mentioning that Tirill is a devoted fan of Drake and took part in a tribute concert to him a few years ago. This is one of the best Drake covers I’ve heard, truly. The whole album is dedicated to Rudolf Steiner, who wrote about and developed a spiritual philosophy of the “relationship between nature and the human spirit,” with many of his poems here being translated by Owen Barfield for Tirill’s ethereal musings, principally those titled after individual seasons. There is a poem “associated” with the exquisite chamber-folk piece “To the Realms of the Spirit,” but it’s presented here as a string-laden instrumental, a haunting one. “Spring” is a bright and beautiful song fragment, with that harp really luring you in, but then the song is over in just a minute and 15. Much too short, like the actual season of Spring itself. Two of the best tracks are “Shapes of a Dream,” a rumination on mother and son that Tirill penned which has an aching sadness suffused throughout (is it about an unwanted separation? A tribute to the loving memory of one who departed?) and the title track, featuring lyrics by Kathleen Jessie Raine. That one is about change, how it is both inevitable and something to face with understanding and clarity. The quiet, folksy sound of this piece could induce tears, and Tirill’s musicians play with the most evocative, understated grace for such a timeless theme. “Iridescent Horizon” begins sounding like an eerie ambient sonic, but is actually one of two spoken word pieces here, and it’s worth following along with the words if you have the patience for this kind of thing. It’s subtitled “To a Beloved,” and in fact, many of these pieces have a subtitle clearly chosen for what the song’s added meaning might be (the Drake cover says “To a Past Love”, the memorable “Under the Small Fire of Winter Stars” is subtitled “To a Friend”). In that one, a whispering goddess, half-dream meditation, which comes and goes on a nocturnal ambient breeze, Tirill implores her listener “And if it happens that you cannot go on or turn back/And you find yourself where you will be at the end, tell yourself in that final flowing of cold through your limbs, that you love what you are.” I could use such gentle persuasions and all the other impossibly empathetic sentiments Tirill gifts us with on this fragile song cycle, as I continue winding my own way across the sometimes mean, merciless landscapes of modern times.

TOR LUNDVALL: A STRANGENESS IN MOTION: EARLY POP RECORDINGS 1989-1999

(DAIS RECORDS; 2019)

Sometimes an artist can be quite prolific without most folks knowing who they are. That seems to be the case with Tor Lundvall, an East Hampton based electronica auteur whose largely ambient works tend to be limited editions. He was on a label called Strange Fortune from 2004-2006, where I first heard his evocative works LAST LIGHT and EMPTY CITY, the latter a perfectly satisfying dark-ish ambient platter that worked fine as immersive mood music. Lundvall has categorized his own music as “ghost ambient,” which, while not an official sub-genre in most texts I have read, sums it up tidily. Before the Strange Fortune years, he released a series of seasons-themed platters (something not unsurprisingly common in ambient circles) such as THE MIST and UNDER THE SHADOWS OF TREES. Lundvall is an introspective observer of nature, it seems, and woodlands, fields and changing weather informs his sound rather pervasively. Works for me, as I am a total ambient freak.

TOR LUNDVALL in Washington DC, 1990 (uncredited photo)

Now, however, in one of several retrospective collections he has put out (a couple being very limited-edition box sets), he’s gone back to his youthful coffers to gather up the material that comprises A STRANGENESS IN MOTION: EARLY POP RECORDINGS 1989-1999. This does not qualify as ambient, although the evocative and tonally rich keyboards Lundvall plays could certainly serve it up, and HAVE on later recordings. But we get vocals throughout, and unless you’re Elizabeth Fraser or that guy who sang on a track on Eno/Budd’s classic THE PLATEAUX OF MIRROR, or any number of nameless ethereal female vocalists who’ve spruced up more heavenly music-style outings than I could name, you don’t get invited to the “Ambient Party.” What Lundvall was doing in yonder years was essentially synth pop, music with two or three well-known IDM type beats, simple but atmospheric keyboard sounds generally mixed upfront, and soft but clear vocals.

TOR LUNDVALL in the studio, 1994 (uncredited photo)

Original One” comes right out of the speakers with a four-on-the-floor dancey beat and a rather distracting male vocal occasionally barking something unintelligible. No lyrics, but… no “ambience” in the classic manor, either. But it’s kinda fun. “Procession Day” is better, centered around a lovely descending minor fourth interval and an airy Lundvall vocal: “From my window, leaves are turning/From my window, I watch the changing world,” he sings, and there are plenty of casual observations like that throughout the remaining tracks. This is genuinely pleasant, however, and may remind you of classic Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. “The Clearing” features dual vocal tracks, one virtually whispered, the other a gentle, higher-register vocal that, when occurring in tandem with the other, creates a hypnotic effect. There are three or four different keyboard elements in the mix, so Lundvall was clearly already a master of light electronica, and he has too much serious intent to let any of this approach the shallow side of the electronica pool. That said, much of this music sounds like standard ‘80s synth-pop, something that many of us were listening to in colleges and clubs at the time. “The Melting Hour” has a rather driving rhythm that recalls early Echo and the Bunnymen (Lundvall’s sweet lead vocal sounds like a lyric he sings, “haunted by dreams”), and “Watched” is rather hypnotic in its purposeful airy pop sound, even if you get the sense that this kind of music was and still is being made by any competent electronica musician with the right computer setup.

As the album progresses, though, you realize you are hearing an artist that loves getting lost in the music. “Hidden” has a 1-2-2-1 keyboard phrase that repeats over and over, effectively, while Lundvall’s shy, boy-ish vocal seems to hover between the background and the foreground. There’s a kind of hazy allure to this track that leaves a lasting impression. “The Night Watch” is even better, a cumulatively mesmerizing song offering more of those evocative lyrics: “I see a tree sitting on the field/The twisted limbs, its leaves conceal/The small dark birds fly against the sky/Along the black streets, the shadows try… ” I let this one play three times. “Lessons That Kill” offers bright, pinging electronics that call the French duo Air to mind, and convey a sense of underlying drama that would have made for a fine instrumental. There is a cool shift in the main melody just after the two-minute mark. Lundvall does sing again, though, and the vocals don’t really command attention, even though they are pleasant enough. The closing “August Rain” features cool, fizzy keyboards in the foreground and a dreamlike, half-whispered vocal firmly in the background. The effect is like lucid dreaming… are you fully awake in reality or not? And how important is it to you to even KNOW what the lyrics are saying? These final few tracks raise that question.

TOR LUNDVALL, 2016 (publicity photo)

Ironically, even though this isn’t a Tor Lundvall ambient release, it would sound pretty good in the background at a social event. I can’t imagine this soft, pop-tronica style really bothering anyone. Lundvall has focus and clarity in his music; you could tell he was thinking things over, and trying to direct his sonic assembly to do his artistic bidding. His later work may be more entrancing to those of us into the ambient immersion thing, but A STRANGENESS IN MOTION… , while not particularly “strange” by my reckoning, does showcase an artist making strides towards a promising musical destiny.

ABJECTION RITUAL: SOUL OF RUIN, BODY OF FILTH

(MALIGNANT RECORDS; 2018)

I am the type of person that likes to thoroughly research any artist that I write about, mentioning each band member and any guest musician’s contribution to the particular recording up for review. Finding ANY information about Abjection Ritual is like collecting hen’s teeth. However, after much scouring of various online data bases, I was able to identify the man behind the sounds. Now, after some soul-searching, I have decided that if this gentleman has gone to such extremes to keep his identity a mystery, I won’t blow it for him here. Suffice to say, the man is genuinely disturbed… the kind of disturbed that all true geniuses seem to share. These are the men and women who create the most adventurous and thought-provoking music, movies, literature, art… each a statement on the world, its populace or, indeed, the inner machinations of the creator of said piece. So… with that out of the way, let’s take a look at SOUL OF RUIN, BODY OF FILTH, the fourth overall release from Abjection Ritual and second for Malignant Records.

ABJECTION RITUAL (publicity photo)

Previous Abjection Ritual releases have tended toward a kind of synthesized industrial metal. SOUL OF RUIN… sees the now-duo moving in a more organic direction, introducing guitar, bass and a live drummer into the mix of industrial ambience and heavy electronics. “Lamentations” is the shortest piece on the album, a droning dirge of an introduction with haunting female… uh… well, “Lamentations” leads right into “Body of Filth.” Tribal drums, eardrum-piercing feedback and an assortment of other evil sounding instrumentation replaces the hypnotic droning of the intro. Screamed male vocals are introduced before the whole thing devolves into a hive of noise, buzzing toward an unresolved terminus. “Blood Mother” is a sinister, Dio-era Sabbath wall of doom and gloom highlighted by ridiculously heavy riffs and ponderous drums. The middle section – a stinging, horror movie soundtrack – features a female voice (Rennie Resmini) and odd sci-fi sound effects before returning to the ominous bass grind of the track’s central theme. Hoarse, sore-throat inducing vocals plead and exhort, delivering what I must assume is the desired queasy effect. Author Christopher Ropes delivers a spoken word intro to “Deathbed Conversion.” The best analogy I can come up with regarding this one is that it sounds like the gates of Hell opening, inviting in the soul of a dying man. The lyrics are virtually vomited out, either Satan or the tortured soul seeking redemption (or condemnation). I’m not too sure about the conversion, but if the next song, “Ruin,” is any indication, things did not go well. The tone is oddly brighter, with a synthesized orchestra (or, is that a chorus?) seemingly offering light to the aura, if not the soul, of the entire record. Even so, the track features some crushingly heavy guitar and two guttural voices manage to give the tune and even more chaotic sound than the first half of the record. A lone voice, almost plaintive, dominates the second half grind.

“Carnassial Passage” is a kind of throbbing fever dream that somehow brings to mind the classic Alice Cooper tune, “Unfinished Sweet.” That may have more to do with the song title and the creepy drills that keep intruding into the mix. I feel fairly certain that this one would probably give even the Cooper boys nightmares. And that, friends, is a high compliment to the damaged minds behind the tune. The album ends with the nine-minute-plus magnum opus, “Old Sins.” It’s a slow descent into madness with heavily fuzzed-out guitar and bass with screamed vocals before the painful squall of a guitar’s feedback jolts you awake like electroshock therapy gone horribly wrong. Oddly effective and provocative, the minimalist drums make the cut intensely claustrophobic, forcing the listener into an unwelcome introspective haze. And we’re just a little more than halfway in; a more traditional approach is introduced at about 5:15 in, with a somewhat standard chord progression from the bass and Fripp-like sonic sweeps of guitar. Seemingly just out of listening range is what sounds like a psychotherapy session taking place. Taken by itself, “Old Sins” is a most effective and utterly disturbing piece of music; taken as a solitary piece of a larger construct, it seems to be the final abandonment of all hope, the dissolution of the final thread of sanity. The emotional turmoil that the song elicits, the journey we are forced to embark upon is exactly the desired effect that Abjection Ritual was aiming for. All good music, literature, art has the ability to lead its audience down a path that will generate a certain visceral reaction from said audience; SOUL OF RUIN, BODY OF FILTH as a whole and, particularly, “Old Sins” by itself does exactly that. I was mentally drained from the experience and, just maybe, a different person for having had that experience. That is the kind of art that one rarely experiences nowadays.

GRIDFAILURE: FURTHER LAYERS OF SOCIETAL COLLAPSE

(THE COMPOUND RECORDS; 2016)

gridfailure

I like noise! Noise is good. Particularly the conflagration of noise manifested by David Brenner, recording as the dark ambient project, Gridfailure. Five months after the release of the bone-jarring debut, ENSURING THE BLOODLINE ENDS HERE, Brenner is back with FURTHER LAYERS OF SOCIETAL COLLAPSE, an EP that is full of the best kinds of noise, utilizing field recordings, as well as heavily processed rock and pop instrumentation, lending the entire proceeding the air of a landscape decimated by industrial collapse. In less than thirty minutes, David (who is co-founder of the influential extreme music public relations firm, Earsplit) takes the listener on a trip that is – alternately – serene and pastoral, frightening and apocalyptic. In short, this is a sound pastiche for the thinking man. The seven-tracks, released on October 31 as a free download (name your own price) at Gridfailure’s Bandcamp page, is scheduled for a limited edition cassette release in the near future. In the meantime, feel free to listen below.

Gridfailure (David Brenner) (uncredited manipulated photo)
Gridfailure (David Brenner) (uncredited manipulated photo)

If you’re familiar with paranormal investigative shows like GHOST HUNTERS or GHOST ADVENTURES or the “found footage” of THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT, you will recognize the underlying vibe of “A Severing of Ties.” The entire thing plays like an EVP (electronic voice phenomena) session conducted deep in a haunted forest, with weird, disembodied voices buried in a sea of white noise. Toward the end of the track, some tribal percussion (courtesy of Full Scale Riot’s BJ Allen) peeks out of the miasma. “Digital Crush” maintains the thematic thread of the first piece, as the drums resurface briefly at the beginning, before more found sounds and other-worldly voices are introduced into the mix; what appears to be a ghostly single-note piano coda intrudes on the whole affair, while crickets, cicadas and other woodland noises filter in and out to great affect. On “Android Infusion,” the EVP detector has been replaced by a transistor radio tuned to a weak-signal free-form Jazz station transmitting from somewhere within a war zone. “Get Fucked Dance” sounds like a residual (looped) haunting at the site of a horrible train wreck, relaying images of doom, destruction, pain and… a Native American wind instrument?

With “Broken Systems,” the skittering and buzzing of insects reacting to the wildly fluctuating radio waves and apocryphal voices seem to announce the opening of the Gates of Hell. The sounds of forest creatures is slowly replaced by a fever dream of industrial cacophony on “Indian Point Direct Proximity Warning Tester.” This calm before the atomic fallout is, quite naturally, played out over the incessant drone of a warning siren. “Woodlands of Self-Impalement,” though the final track, is the pivotal centerpiece of this dystopian soundscape, encompassing nearly one third of the total time. Thunder in the distance heralds the heavy winds and the storm is upon us; the creatures – natural, spiritual, demonic – cease their chirping and moaning and laughing… the dream, the inner turmoil gains momentum as the white noise of despair overtakes all thought, leading to silence and the sweet release of…