A successful ambient/drone pairing from WitchHouse
Within the very pure, expressive genre of ambient music, split releases are difficult to pull off effectively. It is imperative that both artists have some sort of crossing point in their respective creative paths, allowing listeners to zone out from start to finish, without being violently jerked into reality again by a painful clash of artistic intent. So as I escape to somewhere tranquil and plug in my headphones, I pray that A Death Cinematic and Beyond The Black Ocean offer up a successful effort in the split format.
A Death Cinematic opens the release, demonstrating the versatility of the electric guitar and the transfixing qualities of drone and feedback. Layers of effect-drenched guitar spill over into a saturated audio space, flickering between swamping the foreground and sinking behind delicate clean harmonies. Opening track "Slowly Cave In The Heart..." delivers the power of improvisation, whilst the 15-minute "A Thousand Grey Winters..." calls upon repetition to take the sound and listener into a gloriously meditative state. It's an intense experience; one that some may feel is overwhelming at points, whilst others will view at as a refreshingly cathartic dose of ambiance. The only negative aspect of the music is its slight tendency to meander without any clear direction (obviously a weakness of the improvisational approach). Still, the first half of this album remains an impressive display of the capabilities of one man and a borrowed four track.
Just when a change in sonic setting feels necessary, Beyond The Black Ocean introduce their unique ambient collage, and a complimentary contrast to the music preceding it. As "Looking Out Over Cold Mother Russia" fades up, the sporadic melodies of chimes and organs begin to serenade with their suitably aimless improv, stranded in amongst atonal, rumbling noise. Throughout the three pieces, the listener is placed in a dream-like scenario of quick-shifting environments and a nightmarish unknowing as to where the music will take them next, with each "phase" held together by compelling texture contrasts. The highlight comes in the form of "The Last Flight Of Icarus", which sounds something like a Tim Hecker concert recorded during a hurricane, and comes fused with some truly eerie metallic percussion.
The way in which this release flows together is also notable; the transition between the artists allows for the soundscape to be flipped on its head without feeling as though the experience has been disrupted in any way. As a listener, you can appreciate the individual audial footprint of each artist, but also the intimate chemistry and cohesion displayed between their two sounds, rendering the term "split release" relatively obsolete.
| Reviewer: Jack Chuter Added: May 3rd 2008 |
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