Ambient / Minimal / Drone
1973 products
FELT welcomes back Civilistjävel! with Följd, the follow up to last year’s Brödföda. 7 tracks further chronicling his melancholic murk, ever drifting towards that faint dub glow. Features a collaboration with Thomas Bush.
Uncanny are the nocturnal sounds that ebb patiently from Tomas Bodén and his machines. His music continues to uncover equal parts beauty and dread from isolation, a purposeful slow pace guiding those gentle noises through the arctic air surrounding its author. No matter the weather, these expressions as Civilistjävel! continue to find a loving home on Fergus Jones’s FELT imprint.
On Följd, he naturally develops on the inclinations found on Brödföda. XIII’s unsettling warble melts into the dusky spurts of XIV. Further on, the dew-glowed ambience of XV precedes XVI’s dub trudge which casts a hypnotic grey shadow. XVII’s wind-swept acid redux then quietly transitions into the stunning introspective drone of XVIII before closer XIX comes into view, its positive dawn enacted through Thomas Bush’s croons lilting amongst organs, guitars and tempered sound design.
Civilistjävel! continues to emote a great deal with very little, a reliable abstract practitioner that posits Följd as an arresting audio tale within his celebrated oeuvre.
![cv313 - [Live Excursions] (CD)](http://meditations.jp/cdn/shop/files/a3547224006_10_{width}x.jpg?v=1741001136)
Exclusive unheard live extracts from cv313's live performance at Glass City Record Store release party in Detroit, USA. Recorded from 16 channel Mackie mixer, performed entirely on analog/digital hardware, samplers and sequencers. NO COMPUTER INVOLVED. Recorded in May, 2001 @ a warehouse somewhere in Detroit.
Thoughts:
Live Excursions is the third in the cv313 Live series, this time a recording of a gig performed by Hitchell at the 2001 DEMF Festival for the Glass City Records release party. As the earliest recording in the series to date it is in many ways Live @ Primary‘s opposite number, a fact reflected in the vastly different material featured, as well as the negative-print artwork that adorns the gatefold Eco friendly wallet.
It is perhaps the most easily recognizable as a cv313 gig in particular, featuring many staples of early cv313 material with very few of the diversions into Soultek, Intrusion or other housier archive material that characterizes other live cv313 sets. Live Excursions focuses heavily on on tightly looped, mesmerizing, repeated grooves soaked in delay and reverb, with warm, fuzzy textures and soft, through-the-walls beat-work that one can imagine anesthetizing many a wearied festival-goer seeking a final, hazy chill out session.
The tracks on Live Excursions are all simply named “Glass City Session” with a numeric suffix, but a bit of digging into the cv313 back catalog does at least reveal the origins of some of these tracks. It opens, for example, on a live version of the twenty-two minute long “Subtraktive [Intrusion’s Enchantment] Extended Version,” and yes, that makes it a live variant of an extended version of a remix of “Subtraktive,” proof of how deeply meta the whole echospace [detroit] catalog can be.
The original mix can actually be found on the second “Subtraktive” disc of the 2xCD edition of Dimensional Space, and this live version doesn’t deviate drastically from it. It’s a stunning opening to the set, the hovering drones, rolling congas, and earth-shaking sub-bass making for a truly hypnotic, head in the clouds twenty-two minute opus.
“Glasscity Session III” is a particular surprise, as it turns out to be none other than a live version of “Durveda,” a hitherto unreleased track fully of atyipically dark and disturbing drones and textures that makes it proper debut on Dimensional Space. This alone makes Live Excursions enough of a historical curio for fans to warrant investing.
Pre-orders of the Live Excursions disc on the echospace [detroit] Bandcamp site also came with an immediate download of four tracks that were stated to be on the CD itself. In actual fact it appears that the second and fourth tracks appear on the main disc, but the first and third do not, making them digital exclusives. Sadly, these tracks are not mastered to anywhere near the same quality as the main disc, the sound quality muddy and muted.
Live Excursions is hopefully not the last in the Live series of cv313 sets we’ll see, as they frequently offer unique takes on the material, and each has it own distinctive character. This is definitely one for armchair listening, an intoxicating opiate best experienced on headphones with a spacious sound stage. -Igloo Magazine
If you missed out on the pair of cv313/ Echospace [detroit] Record Store Day CD’s then why not attempt to heal your pain by picking up this disc of ‘Live ‘Excursions’ from Detroit’s Stephen Hitchell and Rod Modell (DeepChord). Arguably the finest dub techno practitioners outside of early productions from Moritz Von Oswald and Mark Ernestus, you know; Basic Channel etc.
These tracks are extracted from a live session at a warehouse somewhere in Detroit and serve as evidence these guys can cut it live - all hardware/ no computers. Outside of that there’s nothing revelatory here just straight up chilled cv313 shimmering dubbed out magic. Metallic clouds that seemingly float into infinity, steady beats and a vibe that’s hypnotic throughout. Repetitious? On the surface for sure, but once inside - the nuances reveal themselves and all is not as it seems. These guys go deeeeeeep and I want some of what they’re smokin’. Originally this was issued in an edition of 100 copies but we have a limited amount of the reissue available in different packaging/ artwork.
Oh and while you’re at it there’s also limited copies of their deeply immersive ‘Seconds To Forever’ disc available and totally worth grabbing. -Norman (UK)
Rod Modell and Stephen Hitchell's glacial dub techno project cv313 release never before heard live extracts from a session they performed at a Glass City Record Store release party in Detroit. Performed in a warehouse entirely on hardware, its a characteristically deep and otherworldly release from the pair, pillowy kicks swimming in infinite layers of spidery static and hallucinatory pads. It's music that is involving and immersive to the point of disorienting, and shows cv313 as a powerful live act - even when experienced on headphones long after the event has taken place. -Bleep
Having recently released the impressively in-your-face Live at Primary CD, it's something of a surprise to see CV313 dropping another live recording so soon. To be fair, Live Excursions first surfaced digitally last year via their own Bandcamp site, and now makes its way onto CD for the first time. The recordings themselves are vintage too, having been captured at a warehouse party in Detroit back in 2001. According to the Echospace website, the tracks were performed live using only outboard kit and a 16-channel mixer, with no computer trickery. Whatever the method, the resultant tracks are long, trippy, and immersive forays into dub techno and ambient in CV313's trademark style. -Juno
"[Live Excursions]" shows American masters of dub-techno at the beginning of their joint experiments.
A separate chapter in the work of Rod Modell and Stephen Hitchella are performances. Their music becomes then a slightly different dimension - it is less clarified, it has a more raw sound and marked by a strong element of improvisation. We can convince listening to the album, "[Live Excurcusions]", containing songs recorded during spontaneous sessions organized in a record store Glass City in the Motor City as part held there in 2001, the Detroit Electronic Music Festival.
The show starts slowly pending roll, combining tarry sound straight from Jamaican dub with reduced rhythm of techno style. All of this is immersed in a corroded shafts of grainy sound, behind which regularly emerges rudimentary melodic motif ("Glassity Session 1"). After twenty minutes of psychedelic music, Rodell and Hitchell hit more dance party - combining, for minimalowym backing billowing sheets and deep bass ("Glasscity Session 2").
When the club energy falls, US producers are turning to ambient. "Glasscity Session 3" is quite unusual composition in their repertoire. Its center are the mechanical rhythms borrowed from Kraftwerk, which overlap with towering waves of synthesizers monochrome pierced corrosive loop. In contrast - the next composition is actually techno pure form. This time the silent any noise and echoes, and remains the only motor pulse, braided rozwibrowanymi chords ("Glassicty Session 4").
The next two parts of the show in detroitowym shop again wprzęgają dub sound processing techniques to create a psychedelic dance music. In the "Glassity Session 5" measuring impacts bit bulky accompanied by distant explosions zbasowanych effects, and "Glassity Session 6" withdrawn rhythm resonates thicket of sewage reverb. Record ends with another nod to the ambient aesthetics - rozwibrowanymi cascades of chords intertwined with the majestic tone ("Glassicty Session 7").
"[Live Excursions]" shows Rod Modell and Stephen Hitchella at the beginning of their joint experiments. But I can be heard on the album germs of ideas that will be later developed into brilliant Echospace plate. Rough and raw sound recordings show an obvious kinship with the canonical achievements of Basic Channel - but slowing rhythm, sound radical corrosion, extending the length of recordings, music saturating the psychedelic mood, it indicates that this is just born into our ears completely new vision of dub-techno. Thus, this album is a very interesting document for all lovers of this timeless music. -Nowamuzyka Magazine
There's been a world of hurt in regard to this album, the original masters recorded from 1996-2010 were submerged underwater due to the flood in our home studio where boxes of old reel's were never to be recovered again. Finally, years of restructure on live recordings and pain staking undulation in the restoration process have lead us to finally accomplish what so many expected wouldn't happen: an awakening of sagacious spirit: With that being said It's our distinct honor to present the sonic world of "dimensional space" the highly anticipated debut album from cv313. This album has taken a cosmic eclipse where two events collide for Unison. The culmination of this project lead to synergy, creative experience re-invented and re-imagined, flow of an astral vortex.
Our first album we made together, "The Days After", was initially released on Three Poplars in 2003. Then, afterwards in 2007 it was re-issued with a new version of the second track, "Flaxen", on Faraway Press.
After having found the earliest version of 'The Days After' in my archives last autumn, there was an excitement that grows with the beginning of something in the creative process and the sparkle of an idea that can never be recreated. Furthermore, there was a moment when trial and error emit a spark like the striking of a flint.
I thought it was worth releasing, and Andrew agreed.
Then, we asked that our most trusted mastering engineer, Denis Blackham, bring the album to a new life. Denis' amazing mastering skills made the album what it should be: a powerful piece of work that feels fresh and full of energy.
It's been 23 years since then. We have come a long way together. It's been a long road, but we've been there for each other every step of the way. That's why the album is called 'The Years After'. Actually it's 'Twenty-three Years After', but that's my personal story.
I couldn't be happier.
Daisuke Suzuki
Tokyo March 2025
Robert Haigh continues on in his post-Omni Trio musical world, releasing a type of contemporary classical/ambient music that is piano-based and bridges the worlds of Aphex Twin (in the Richard James’ quieter moments), Max Richter, Eno and Chilly Gonzales. These, as with the instrumental pieces on recent-enough Haigh album, the gorgeous Darkling Streams, feel all at once like demo-versions and finished pieces; the writer sitting down at the keys and shaking loose a few ideas. Stopping to find them as close to fully formed as they’ll ever be – art that’s never finished, simply discarded.
These pieces hint as nostalgia and quiet moments of contemplation, they, once again, feel like they’ve come from the school of film composition – more so than from any techno/drum’n’bass world (where Haigh, of course, has operated so successfully).
These are soft sketches. We listen in, almost eavesdropping, catching just the bit in the middle – longer intros or outros could change any one of these pieces into an album-length work, but these snapshots still seem correctly bound together.
It’s quietly powerful stuff.
Shadowy musical figures, breathing spaces within the notes, the slightest feeling of unease trickling in and around these moments that – mostly – frame up a type of tranquillity, create a calm, a balm, a day-spa soundtrack with depth, warmth and intrigue.
Once again Haigh has offered up the very best from his soul for the wee small hours, for those moments after first waking or to guide you as you slip off into a strange and wonderful dreamland.
Robert Haigh made his trilogy of piano solo albums (‘Notes and Crossings’, ‘Anonymous Lights’, and ‘Strange and Secret Things’) during 2009-2011 and ‘The Silence of Ghosts’ in 2015 for Siren Records. The tracks for each of these releases were carefully selected with consideration for the flow and development of the project. Inevitably, for various reasons, some tracks did not fit a particular album and they have remained unreleased regardless of their quality.
The original plan of the “Tempus Fugit” release was, as the subtitle suggests, to collect and assemble rare and unreleased tracks into an album. However, in the process of his compiling the tracks, Robert noticed that the project was developing into an album that had a flow and narrative of its own. Considering the structure and progression of the album, Robert carefully curated ten pieces from his recording archives (including three tracks left over from the Unseen Worlds period) and arranged them to make the best sequence selection.
As a result, “Tempus Fugit” has grown into a unique album with its own sense of flow, though none of the tracks were recorded with the aim of making this particular album. “Tempus Fugit” will be a parting gift to those who have followed his works while at the same time, a useful selection as “young person's guide to Robert Haigh” to those who have yet to open the door of his music.
The album opens with ’Slow Water.’ A distant and plaintive piano melody evolves with ghostly harmonies through a reverb soaked landscape. ’The Wind Blows Black’ is an improvisation on a theme where discordant piano figures tumble over fragile descending chords. ‘Sub Rosa’ and ‘Broken Bones’ are Haigh at his most melodic, conjuring up the feel of tracks such as ‘Clear Water’ and ‘Portrait with Shadow’.’ In A Space’ slightly predates the first Siren release and wouldn’t be out of place on an early Budd and Eno album. The album closes with the ghostly ‘Tesselate Air’, a slow-moving ambient trip across a misty and shadowy terrain, slowly fading to silence. And the silence is significant as Robert is insistent that there will be no more releases after this.
Written and produced by Robert Haigh. Mastered by Denis Blackham at Skye Mastering. Sleeve artwork by Robert Haigh. Additional design by Saul Haigh.
Robert Haigh, long known as Omni Trio, is a veteran electronic and “ambient drum and bass” innovator. Strange and Secret Things, however, is solo piano. Now, when someone sits down at the piano and plays slowly and pensively, it is easy (and usually lazy) to immediately draw comparisons with Erik Satie, and “Revenant (Prelude)” and “Secret Codes (Prelude)” are in fact reminiscent. A nod, perhaps. Otherwise, Haigh’s seventeen miniatures are hardly strange and if they possess some secret, he seems more than willing to share it with us. He plays a crisp and clear piano, deliberate and intimate.
On this final entry to a trilogy, voltage is mainly used to run the recording equipment, with the rare wisp of a whit of a scent of electronics—a dragonfly following him “Across the River,” a shimmer quietly underlining “Dark House,” synthesizer arabesques decorating “Piano with Generative Tones” and what sounds like a violin (but could be a female soprano) sampled and played backward on the closing “Requiem.” Whether circular or linear, these tuneful, minimal melodies are truly precious pieces, black-and-white snapshots only just beginning to yellow and curl at the edges.
Housed in the sturdy, handmade mini-LP packaging which has become the distinguished and distinguishing hallmark of Siren, Andrew Chalk’s Faraway Press’ Japanese sister label.
CD + text book featuring cellist Yuki Nakagawa, who has participated in the Duo project “KAKUHAN” with Koshiro Hino (goat, YPY) and the album “The Butterfly Drinks The Tears Of The Tortoise” by the Australian unit “CS+Kreme”, featuring his cello and acoustic performance with a bow (a.k.a. Bach bow) that he made himself.
2025 restock. Space Elements Vol. II is the fourth release in Rafael Toral's ongoing project, the Space Program. Following the first Elements release, this volume features a new set of collaborators: Evan Parker (soprano sax), Manuel Mota (guitar), Afonso Simões (drums), Stefano Tedesco (vibraphone), João Paulo Feliciano (Rhodes piano), and Ruben Costa (digital synthesizer), as well as returning guests Sei Miguel (trumpet), César Burago (percussion), Fala Mariam (trombone), and Rute Praça (cello). Space Elements Vol. II displays a melodic quality that, along with a refined management of silence, marks a new area and consolidates the Space Program's complex network. Its spaciousness is explained in Toral's liner notes: "While finding ways to make decisions on sound emission, it became evident to me that such sounds should have a reason to exist, they should be essential and necessary." Dan Warburton's writing in The Wire about Space fits Space Elements Vol. II perfectly: "The melodic logic that drives certain instruments within Space also recalls birdsong, with dense, convoluted runs of twittering melody ending in single piping notes, as spontaneous as Messiaen's birdsong transcriptions were painstaking and meticulous." Toral's music is a jazz-inspired re-evaluation of live electronics: "Despite working in a sound world that is cosmetically closer to R2D2's vocabulary than Louis Armstrong's or John Coltrane's, Toral has claimed a kinship to jazz because it models instant music making within a disciplined framework." (Bill Meyer, Dusted); "Toral is looking for nothing less than a totally fresh language to work in" (The Wire). Space Elements Vol. II was mastered direct to metal from 24-bit files and pressed on clear 200 gram virgin-vinyl. With design by Helder Luis at NOTYPE, the LP features a collage by João Paulo Feliciano. Presented in a limited edition of 500. CD version available on Staubgold.
Space Elements Vol. II is the fourth release in Rafael Toral's ongoing project, the Space Program. Following the first Elements release, this volume features a new set of collaborators: Evan Parker (soprano sax), Manuel Mota (guitar), Afonso Simões (drums), Stefano Tedesco (vibraphone), João Paulo Feliciano (Rhodes piano), and Ruben Costa (digital synthesizer), as well as returning guests Sei Miguel (trumpet), César Burago (percussion), Fala Mariam (trombone), and Rute Praça (cello). Space Elements Vol. II displays a melodic quality that, along with a refined management of silence, marks a new area and consolidates the Space Program's complex network. Its spaciousness is explained in Toral's liner notes: "While finding ways to make decisions on sound emission, it became evident to me that such sounds should have a reason to exist, they should be essential and necessary." Dan Warburton's writing in The Wire about Space fits Space Elements Vol. II perfectly: "The melodic logic that drives certain instruments within Space also recalls birdsong, with dense, convoluted runs of twittering melody ending in single piping notes, as spontaneous as Messiaen's birdsong transcriptions were painstaking and meticulous." Toral's music is a jazz-inspired re-evaluation of live electronics: "Despite working in a sound world that is cosmetically closer to R2D2's vocabulary than Louis Armstrong's or John Coltrane's, Toral has claimed a kinship to jazz because it models instant music making within a disciplined framework." (Bill Meyer, Dusted); "Toral is looking for nothing less than a totally fresh language to work in" (The Wire). Space Elements Vol. II was mastered direct to metal from 24-bit files and pressed on clear 200 gram virgin-vinyl. With design by Helder Luis at NOTYPE, the LP features a collage by João Paulo Feliciano. Presented in a limited edition of 500. CD version available on Staubgold.
Limited 50 copies. 40mins sonic meditation by Ocean Moon and aus.the sun is shining.the magic is real.good times.
Artwork by Nicola Tirabasso and Alison Fielding
Thanks to Jack Colleran, Henry Earnest, Finn Carraher Mc Donald, Margie Jean Lewis, Róisin Berkley, Luka Seifert, Diego Herrera, and Olan Monk
Recorded in Conamara and Dublin between 2021 and 2023.
Originally released in 1993, Quique (pronounced “keek”) was the first album by UK band Seefeel. A landmark album, it’s unique blend of shoegaze fuzz, abstract electronic sounds and sparse minimalism made it a must have for any collector of ambient techno. Released by too pure, the album was reissued in expanded form as Quique Redux on cd in 2007. About it, Pitchfork wrote that “Quique showed how the oceanic end of shoegaze could be found in a purely electronic world” and called the album “timeless”.
"Quique was very much a product of its time in terms of who we were as people, the social world we inhabited and the technology available to us. I think the album was very much restricted by the relatively primitive technology we were using by today's standards, but that very restriction is I think partly what gives it its flavour."– MARK CLIFFORD
We are excited to make Quique and Quique Redux available again, newly remastered by Geoff Pesche at Abbey Road.
QUIQUE REDUX will be available on vinyl for the first time via a limited edition 4XLP set through the Beggars Arkive webstore and bandcamp only. The release is housed in a slipcase with new artwork. The cd version is not limited and will be available everywhere. Quique Redux is comprised of Quique plus 9 bonus tracks of alternate versions and material that wasn’t included on the original album.
QUIQUE will be available everywhere on double LP, remastered.
On composing Tom Phillips' Irma
In February and March of 1977, for Brian Eno’s Obscure Records, I made a version of Irma. The following notes on the piece arise out of that involvement and try to show how the piece can be made into a performance state.
Irma is a curious score – it is printed on a single sheet 50cms x 50cms. The notation consists of fragments from Tom’s continuing treatment of the victorian novel by W. H. Mallock, which he calls A Humument, and utilises those short verbal fragments that refer to either ‘‘libretto’’, ‘‘decor and mise-en-scène’’ or ‘‘sounds’’. These 3 categories are arranged in separate sections on the square sheet with, at the bottom, a line of stave notation. At first sight it looks like a piece of indeterminate music – clearly there has to be some preparatory work done before it is performable and no-one would venture to perform directly from the score - but if it is approached in this spirit, like realising a piece by John Cage or Morton Feldman written during the 1950’s, the sounding results are either largely of a documentary
interest, or rely entirely on the gifted performer to make into a coherent sounding whole. True, one could say the same thing for a piece by Cage, such as Variations I, but there the
performer is given a number of precise parameters of sound within which he should work, whereas Irma needs to be re-composed rather than realised.
If the distinction between ‘‘composing’’ and ‘‘realising’’ is overlooked, and if only the materials present in the notation are used, then the result is likely to be impoverished and it is clear that, looked at in isolation as a self-contained work, the score is notationally very thin. So one either produces an impoverished piece of sounding music, or one takes the responsibility to look further. Tom does not say explicitly that one must go beyond Irma into the rest of his work, but he does say that one has to go outside the piece. On the score he writes: ‘‘Perhaps to treat the indications here given as if they were the only surviving fragments of an ancient opera, or fragments of eye and ear witnesses’ accounts of such, and given no knowledge of performance tradition of the time, to reconstruct a hypothetical whole which would accommodate them economically, would be an appropriate basis of approach to a production.’’ So, try to put it back together and try to fill in all the gaps between these fragments. This approach, which, incidentally coincides with an interest in such procedures within my own work, seems to be the most suitable. If the ‘‘composer’’ uses the sorts of methods that Tom evidently uses in producing pictures, in making A Humument (of which Irma is a part), and if he uses the notations of Irma as clues to lead him into whatever area seems likely to yield rich results, then a much more satisfactory outcome is likely – satisfactory both in terms of the quality of the sounding material and in terms of consistency with the rest of Tom’s oeuvre.
There are clearly many ways in which the various fragments of verbal notation can be used. One fruitful way was to take each of the fragments as the notes of, say, a critic at the only performance of the work (in a hypothetical past), perhaps jotted down on the back of an envelope (then torn into fragments in a rage, or through frustration at some element in the piece? Make the piece inadequate in some way?!). These elements, then, would have been memorable for some reason or other, or used as an aide-memoire to recall something else (even something outside the work). The elements could have occurred at evenly-spaced intervals throughout the performance, they may have all been featured in some way (loudly, as solos), they may have been the worst parts (being retained to damn the piece in a subsequent review, since lost or never written – the composer got wind of the review and murdered the critic, retaining the fragments as the only link with the crime. . .). On the other hand they could be used as discrete musical units quite separate from the main body of the work, which has to be looked for elsewhere. Whatever solution, or combination of solutions, is found it is evident that the composer and librettist are more or less obliged to move outside the work itself i.e. outside the printed score. (One of the original ideas I had, which was not very practical, was to see if I could use another opera called Irma. A possibility was one written by H. J. Banawitz first performed in 1885, which would have had the right period in terms of the connection with the W. H. Mallock original. This seems to have had few performances, perhaps only one, and seems to have disappeared. I thought of looking for the manuscript, treating it in the same way as Tom had treated the Mallock novel, and making a sort of ‘‘musical Humument’’ out of it. While that seemed to have some intellectual sympathy with Tom's work, it might not have sounded anything like an opera, and it did seem to me that one of the notions of Irma is that it is conventional to some degree. Indeed, while much of Tom’s musical work lies within the field of experimental music and graphic notation, his musical taste is conservative, and the greater part of the musical references in the main body of his work are to past, and historically respectable, composers like Brahms, Mozart, Fux, Scarlatti and so on.)
The sources that were used, then, in making the piece apart from the score itself involved the following. I obtained the volumes of A Humument and noted all connection with music, with the role of Irma, and with the possible narrative; I looked at all the prints of Ein Deutsches Requiem after Brahms, which use elements from the Humument and refer directly to a musical work; I went through the catalogue of Tom’s work (Works. Texts to 1974); I went through Trailer, which uses the Humument, in fact a spin off from the main work; I went through all the other pieces of music that he has written to see if they could be used in any way; and I checked as many paintings/prints that I could which had a direct or indirect connection with either A Humument, Irma or with music. The painting The Quest for Irma (1973) which shows her in back view looking out to sea gave much information. It is the only portrait of her and she appears even here as anonymous, or rather, faceless. It gives a marine setting for the work (though since at least two pieces of music that I have written deal, to some degree, with marine incidents it might be argued that I might have been better off avoiding such a reference, but it is very blatant). She is looking out to sea from the Dorset coast and this attitude seems to be characteristic of her behaviour: ‘‘I tell you. . . that’s Irma herself. . . watching the waves fall. . . repeating certain sorts of verse. . .’’ So here we have an elusive heroine, obsessively watching the sea off the Dorset coast, given to repetition. Further checks within the Humument revealed a spate of marine references: ‘‘boat of dreams. . . lost on rocks’’; ‘‘the sad horizon of sea, hours she spent with her sadness on the beach’’; ‘‘see, see, the things. . . the things from the changed sea’’; ‘‘a cruise in an opium clipper’’; ‘‘marine engines and boilers’’; ‘‘ten years’ travel and sport in foreign lands’’; ‘‘a certain light flashed. . . among the eastern clouds’’; ‘‘sinking lights. . .’’ and so on. On the other hand, she is not in mourning since she wears a bright red dress.
One page of A Humument is almost a summary of the feeling of Irma and is certainly one that I tried to emulate. ‘‘. . . The whole history of it is so vague. . . eagerly, gradually the words that I heard I put aside as an opera, an insufficient one; still organ for what – me, me. . . I can’t quite tell. hardly books. . . it was the libretto of the music, of the music – I can’t tell. . . I can’t tell - but all was for the same thing to capture in drawing, and to express in music, thought and study. . . the loss. . . the least important. . . moon I myself am myself in search of an object for love? way? Yes and no – enter myself. . . associating me and me. It made me within me some mystery. . .’’
Other pages give more precise information about particular sounds, rhythms, timbres and so on. The instrumentation was, to a large extent, governed by the references to musical instruments that I found in all these sources. ‘‘Tube’’ suggested tuba. The piano is mentioned
many times, especially in connection with John Tilbury. The gong is specified – ‘‘suddenly a gong in series’’ – which also gave me the whole of a short percussion interlude between the second and third sections of the work. Strings were suggested by a phrase ‘‘the history viola’’ occurring in A Humument and this gave me a reason to feature the viola in some way, in fact using it in unison with the female voice, identifying the viola with the title of the opera. The fact of having strings is such a convention of normal orchestral scoring that it would really have needed a positive clue to the contrary to have excluded them, bearing in mind the relationship of the piece to musical convention.
I used the tuned percussion, and especially metallic instruments, from certain onomatopaeic syllables, like ‘‘ting’’, ‘‘ping’’, ‘‘ding’’ which I had originally considered using as a chorus of instrumental imitations, but decided ultimately to use the instruments themselves.
Two of the prints from Ein Deutsches Requiem after Brahms gave me a great deal of material for the second section of the opera, a slow duet between the two main characters. Print number 5 shows a number of parasols, both closed and open, and has the legend ‘‘. . . a sound was given up’’ taken from A Humument. That particular picture suggested itself since there is, within both the score of Irma and within the published Humument a fragment which reads ‘‘the first parasol sound’’, with the addition, in Irma, of ‘‘f, f’’ indicating loud. From the text of the Requiem printed on the picture, I could find the precise section of music in the
Brahms original which consists of a solo for trombone (in the score I use baritone horn for its greater flexibility and ease of pitching, but it uses the same range, and has the added advantage of resembling the French Horn, an instrument more closely associated with noble operatic melodies.). The ‘‘parasol sound’’, then, indicated that I should use that particular instrument. What it plays came from another source, from the score of Irma. which gives ‘‘quiet, high, intonation divine. . .’’ and ‘‘. . . drops the tone . . . various phrases. . .’’ all of which enabled me to have that particular instrument playing, with "divine intonation’’, a long melodic line consisting of a descending stepwise chromatic scale from top E down an octave, but very elongated. The other use of the Requiem was for the other half of the slow section, and used the following print, number 6, which refers to a sequence of rather chromatic chords in the original which I used as fragments, like the Irma score, inserting chords of my own between groups of those by Brahms to make a new sequence. So the whole of the second section uses references to the Brahms Requiem – in the first half to the harmonic content (vertical), in the second half to the melodic line (horizontal).
The last section of the piece, a chorus ‘‘Love is help, mate’’ uses a page of A Humument that is dedicated to Morton Feldman, though the actual results bear no relation to Feldman's music as such. What I did with that page was to look through some of Feldman's music to see if there was anything in it that was consistent with the way that I was approaching the score of Irma. It occurred to me to use a vocal piece for something that would be vocal within Irma and since Tom had dedicated another page to Christian Wolff – in fact a page of Trailer – and since Wolff and Feldman were close associates with Cage in the 1950’s, I used a piece called Christian Wolff in Cambridge (in spite of the fact that Tom had attended Oxford, and the Cambridge here refers to Harvard). This is a wordless choral piece which is hummed – and I used a lot of humming in the score, often as a means of separating discrete images – and consists of mildly dissonant chords. There were, however, one or two more consonant ones and I omitted those which sounded like ‘‘modern music’’, and so was left with one or two chords that I used, along with others interjected to produce a smooth flow, as the accompaniment to the melody of ‘‘Love is help mate’’. The addition of other chords was necessary because of the static quality of Feldman’s piece in which each chord is an isolated entity, and this mirrored what I was doing, on a larger scale, with the whole of Irma; taking isolated fragments and finding ways of reassembling them into a continuous whole. It could be said that I was doing to Feldman what Tom had done to Mallock since each of us extracted from a body of material what was needed for a particular circumstance, though my extraction was a good deal more cursory.
The melody that this accompanies comes from a number of sources. One of these is the stave notation and references to specific notes on Irma itself – about 60% of the notes in the melody – the rest being added by myself. One of the ideas for this came from Eric Sams’ researches into the ciphers in Schumann's music, and in particular from the fact that he originally found a clue to the cipher by finding 5-note melodic phrases in which the 1st, 3rd and 5th notes were C-A-A (Schumann’s wife was called CLARA) and this gave the possibility of finding what L and R became in the musical code, and thence other possible letters. Using this notion, using the notes given by Irma, and inserting between them other notes, the melodic lines are composed by myself but taking as a starting point the notation of Irma. The stave notation at the bottom of the score I found more usable in this way, and also as bass-lines, in transposition, rather than as originally given.
There are, obviously, some very direct references in the score, and it is the presence of these that ensure a very eclectic result: references like ‘‘the Ring’’, ‘‘the Emperor’’, ‘‘the International’’. The first of these, allied to a notation that refers to many ‘‘s’s’’ (German for E flat) suggested the opening of the Rheingold. The second, ‘‘Emperor’’, could have been a number of references – the ‘‘Emperor’’ Waltz (Strauss), the ‘‘Emperor’’ Concerto (Beethoven), the ‘‘Emperor’’ Quartet (Haydn) and so on. In the event I used the last two, and toyed with the idea of using the source for Haydn’s ‘‘Emperor’’ Quartet viz. his ‘‘Emperor Hymn’’ which became the Austrian national anthem, and which was, in its turn taken from a Croatian folk tune. I considered omitting all the musical references and only using the words of this latter ‘‘Vjutro rano se ja stanem Mal pred zorom’’ – and relished the fact that I would have been injecting something with precise semantic value, though one which I did not understand, but in the end omitted it for reasons of pronunciation difficulty. With ‘‘the International’’, I was delighted that it was misspelt (Internationale) and this made of it a lipogram (like the Ellery Queen story that omits the letter ‘‘t’’) and so I quoted the music leaving out the note ‘‘e’’. I had also considered the idea of the lipogram in another context. The original of A Humument is the Victorian novel A Human Document which leaves behind the letters AN DOC, and this gives a lipogrammatic anagram of NO ADC, that is, to avoid the notes A D and C in the piece as a whole. This seemed to be excessive, however, since it would have effectively ruled out one of the two vowels available in musical cryptography, and they are not easy to come by.
THE COMPOSERS NOTES ON THE WORKS
The Machines, which date from the period 1967-1972 represent a departure from the more traditionally “narrative” nature of the rest of my pieces. I use the word Machine to define a consistent process governing a series of musical actions within a particular sound world and, by extension, the listener’s perception thereof. One might thus regard the Welsh Rarebit as a Machine in which a process is applied to the conditioning and perception of the world of bread and cheese.
Autumn Countdown Machine presents the guaranteed dis-simultaneity of six pairs of bass melody instruments, each conducted by a percussionist playing in time with, and making minor adjustments to the setting of a bell-metronome.
Son of Gothic Chord presents four keyboard players’ mobilisation of a sequential chord progression rising through the span of an octave.
Jews Harp Machine presents various permutations of the articulations “Ging, Gang, Gong,Gung, Ho!”
Drinking and Hooting Machine presents some observations on the world of bottles and their non-percussive musical potential. The effect of this piece has been compared to that of a large aviary full of owls all practising very slow descending scales.
John White, March 1976
THE SQUIRREL AND THE RICKETTY RACKETTY BRIDGE
The piece, for one player of two guitars, was written at the request of Derek Bailey, the jazz guitarist, in 1971. I had worked closely with Bailey from 1963-6 in and around Sheffield as a member of a group which included Tony Oxley on drums and myself on double-bass. Since that time, I have lost all interest in jazz, and in improvisation, and since Bailey was involved in both I wrote a piece which uses a technique which Bailey would be unlikely to have evolved in his playing. The two guitars are played simultaneously, each one lying flat on its back, and they are arranged side by side so that the two fingerboards can be played with the fingers hammering down on them, like two keyboards. In addition, the score contains a number of ironic references to jazz and to its critical literature - short texts added to the ‘musical’ notations, somewhat in the spirit of Erik Satie, involving the performer in a hypothetical dialogue with the composer using fragments culled from particularly banal pieces of jazz criticism e.g. “ ‘there is an area up here’, holding his hand above his head, palm down,’ where musical categories do not exist.’ ”. The left hand of the player moves at an even pulse, like the walking jazz bass, at a tempo “between Lady is a Tramp” as a medium bounce, and Cherokee as an embarrassment to lesser, and more intrepid, musicians”, while the right hand punctuates this with short notes, like a highly selective, or extremely lazy, trumpet soloist. The title involves an oblique pun to do with the nut of the guitar, the guitar’s bridge, the faint noise of the music in between – that each attack gives two pitches rather than one – and an English children’s song about Billy Goat Gruff.
Derek Bailey recorded the piece on Incus Records in 1971, and this new version is a multiple one, four players on eight guitars, in which each player uses a pair of guitars which are characteristically different from those used by the others.
Gavin Bryars (1971)
Aran
‘‘Aran’’ and ‘‘McCrimmon Will Never Return’’ date from the period 1970-72, and were written for the Promenade Theatre Orchestra, a group started by White, consisting of 4 performers; White, Hobbs, Hugh Shrapnel and Alec Hill.
‘‘Aran’’was written at a time when the PTO was beginning to combine the sounds of reed organs and toy pianos, the original instruments of the group, with some newly-acquired percussion instruments. The note-to-note procedure of the piece was determined by random means, in the hope of producing a gentle unpredictability in the final result. It was hoped that the whole would be grittily resonant. This recorded version, for 12 performers, is generally more soft-centred than the original.
American Standard
Although the instrumentation of the piece is not specified, an ideal group would be similar to that which performed this version, recorded at the first performance of the piece in March 1973. It is played by the New Music Ensemble of the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, directed by John Adams, the composer, and the instruments used here are:
Flute, clarinet, clarinet (doubling bass-clarinet), clarinet (doubling bass-drum), tuba, percussion (trap set), violin, 2 violas, cello, double-bass, and harp. A conductor is not necessary for performance, since the arrangement and distribution of parts depends on what instruments are available, and ensemble problems that arise are ‘‘to be worked out in standard American fashion: proposal, debate and vote’’. Extra materials, that anyone making a version considers appropriate, may be used in performance in various forms whether film, tape, video, speech, mime, dance etc. Each section of this performance has at least one example of the use of ‘‘extra materials’’.
The piece is in 3 parts, each separately performable, and separately titled:
1. John Philip Sousa
The use of a steady, insistent pulse makes the title’s derivation quite clear; the pulse is given by a bass drum and other instruments have constant pitches which are departed from and returned to. As with all 3 pieces, the dynamics are restrained and undramatic, with the exception of the ‘‘extra material’’ – a crisp snare-drum roll that both sets the tone and gives a dramatic touch that is not present anywhere else. This is not in the score.
2. Christian Zeal and Activity
The main body of the music consists of a series of long held notes, very consonant, in 4 parts which are occasionally synchronised to give unified chords. The instruments are divided into 4 groups according to their pitch ranges, with at least one sustaining instrument in a group, each group having a leader who cues movement from one note to the next. During this piece, the ‘‘extra material’’ consists of a tape-recording of a radio talk-show.
3. Sentimentals
This is the most melodic piece of the 3 and the one which involves the greatest range of variation, quoting extensively from Duke Ellington’s ‘‘Sophisticated Lady’’.The gentle swing of the trap set, that is added during the piece, is again not included in the score, and its presence gives the sound a distinctively Californian feel, close to that of the Beach Boys, or Hollywood studio bands.The curious ending is an ironic affirmation of the maudlin chromaticism of the Ellington piece which generates the music.
McCrimmon Will Never Return
‘‘McCrimmon Will Never Return’’ stems from a temporary interest in Piobaireachd (Pibroch), the most highly developed form of Scottish bagpipe music. The melody of the title has several variants, which are played simultaneously on 4 reed organs. The tempo is sufficiently slow that the characteristic skirls or flourishes in the music become audible as individual notes.
1, 2, 1-2-3-4
The piece is for instrumentalists/vocalists, each wearing headphones connected to a portable cassette machine. Each performer hears only the music in his headphones, music which contains ‘‘parts’’for his instrument or voice, and he plays, along with the cassette, his own instrumental part. His ability to reproduce this part depends on how familiar he is with what he hears, and this can range from careful practice over a period of weeks with his cassette to an immediate response from a first or second hearing. The present recording, to some extent, contains elements of these two extremes: a few players had played the piece on other occasions (at least one of which used the same material as is used on this recording), while others became acquainted with it for the first time in the recording studio.
Each performer plays the‘‘part’’that corresponds to his instrument.Thus, if the music be jazz, a bassist is likely to play more than, say, a violinist. In the case of a bassist hearing jazz (and, hence, usually a bass) on his headphones, he would attempt to play, as best he can, the bass-line in the headphones such that there is an intended one-to-one relationship between what he plays and what he hears in the headphones. He may try his part several times beforehand, or he may choose to busk ‘‘on the night’’, like the accompanist in cabaret who is told, in the middle of the act on stage, that there are no parts for the next number but that it is ‘‘Happy Streets and Paper Rainbows in D flat, 1, 2, 1-2-3-4’’ (and his entry must be prompt, even to the extent of ‘‘inventing’’ an eight-bar introduction).
In this performance, all the players have identical material on their cassettes, though each was recorded individually and not copied simultaneously, and their performance reflects a number of variables that occur: the starting point of the music on the cassettes is not precise (but the click of the machines switching on, however, is); the cassettes may not be all running at the same speed due to the uneven quality of the different machines, the state of their batteries and so on, and this, in turn, affects both the duration and key of the piece; players vary in their ability to ‘‘shadow’’ material (i.e. to simultaneously hear and reproduce); players, in this recording, vary in their familiarity with the material. The material itself, however, is perfectly homogeneous and the dislocations that occur do not destroy this. The piece was originally written for a series of concerts organised by John White and is, amiably, dedicated to him.
As fitting for Takuro Okada’s first collection to be released outside of his home country of Japan, the title evokes the vastness of an unknown world that lies just beyond the periphery of the senses. For Okada, growing up in Fussa, Tokyo–home to the Yokota U.S. Air Force base and the clash of customs and traditions that come with it–meant navigating through the familiar and the unfamiliar, observing and absorbing the uniquely hybrid culture that would play a large role in shaping his musical identity as a guitarist, producer, and band leader. While Okada honed his skills playing to American military members inside clubs along Fussa’s infamous “Bar Row,” at home he would experiment with home recording techniques and develop his skills as a producer.
This album contains selections from the expansive archive of recorded material Okada has amassed over the past decade. While his past releases have included notable collaborators such as Haruomi Hosono, Nels Cline, Sam Gendel, and Carlos Niño, among others who have contributed to his band and ensemble recordings, this collection showcases Okada mainly as a solo musician, focusing mostly on his main instrument, the guitar. These tracks demonstrate his mastery in bringing out strange and beautiful tones from the instrument, from ambient and Americana, to psychedelic and other-worldly harmonics. This multiplicity of sounds serves as testament to Okada’s versatility as a musician, while his singular approach to the act of recording keeps it all cohesive as the unmistakable work of Takuro Okada.
The idea of putting together songs like impressions of a feeling rather than a collection of recordings from a certain decade or style or genre was at the heart of a discussion I had with Norman in 2019. It was a warm July day on the Riviera. I had just finished putting together the sound system for our first and only festival. “It should paint a picture”...
We began a work of compiling. Norm would send tracks and we would try to situate them on the spectrum of a large “carte postale” encompassing in one corner the kitsch resort balneaire, in the other the sail boat in a Caribbean creek, with sandy beaches and glimmering waves in between. With the certainty that the French only seem to possess in matters of taste (my wife Emma is the same), Norm would go: “ah ca c’est 100% Blue Wave” or not at all.
Shortly after, I was introduced by Norm to Charles. The two had been exchanging on references for a while and they had agreed to work together. I was over the moon of course. Our souls had been sucked to Club Meduse shortly prior, and was an inspiration for our aspirations.
The timeline here gets blurry. I lost a bunch of money in the Lebanese crisis and the local economy melted down. Covid hit. The second edition of Pocket of Light Cote d’Azur got cancelled. Movements restrained. Lovers separated. And then the Beirut Port Explosion happened.
I won’t meander long in self pity, but at this very moment in time, the beach seemed so far away, like a forgotten paid reservation at my dream holiday destination. It took me a while to shake that feeling off. Sometimes it still catches me.
We convened to meet in Dusseldorf. We had a party at the Paradise Now. The next day, we had cold tea and cake. Charles walked us through a part of his collection. Every record like a layover on the way to where I left off in my head.
At this moment, seeing Norm and Charles moving to the sound, I remembered that we were up to something golden.
A couple years later here we are. I am thankful for the patience of my collaborators and thrilled to present to you this volume of Transcoastal.
A reminder to keep sailing on that capricious sea despite the weather. Not too far off after the horizon, a gentle vision of paradise awaits.
We went out of our ways, we hope you go out of yours.
Love, light and sand in your shoes,
Mario
Vinyl-only for the time being.
Billed as a sequel to 2022's '7.37/2.11', 'The air outside...' diffuses its predecessor's ambiguous synthscapes with loose-limbed slowcore improvisations, prioritising vulnerability and falibility. RIYL Laila Sakini, Grouper, Bianca Scout or Ulla.
If Perila's immense, immersive double album 'Intrinsic Rhythm' was too much to swallow in one sitting, this one's a little more digestible. The prolific Berlin-based assembled 'The air outside...' from sessions recorded between 2021 and 2023, but they play remarkably coherently, revealing a more fragile, serendipitous side of her personality. Made mostly using guitar and voice, it's music that's not overthought or overproduced, as if we're getting a direct line into Perila's reality - even the title betrays its unpretentious approach. On opener 'Over Me', Perila loops reversed guitar notes, picking out a rough, detuned bassline and barely singing. Her faded voice mouthes out a wordless, improvised lullaby descends into a well, reverberating as she stumbles across the notes. Not ambient exactly, it's more like evaporated, decelerated post-rock - day zero Grouper crossed with Bark Psychosis.
And that description holds on 'Barefeeter', even when Perila switches to piano, playing unsteady, muted phrases as the room rattles around her. A song begins to materialize as she sings textured coos, but never completely emerges. 'Gooshy' is more surprising still, playing out like Jandek with dissonant strums that quiver around dissociated vocal expressions, and on 'Fossil', she uses the same philosophy without resorting to live instrumentation, disrupting oozed pads and whisper-singing over the horizontal soundscape.
Holuzam re-masters and re-issues Tózé Ferreira's watershed sound art LP from late 80s Portugal.
"Two records came out in 1988 that forever changed the perception of "experimental" or "serious" music produced in Portugal. These were "Plux Quba" by Nuno Canavarro and "Música de Baixa Fidelidade" by Tózé (António ) Ferreira. Both were released by the same label - Ama Romanta -, an influential independent imprint closely linked to avantgarde pop band Pop Dell'Arte. Because those records appeared in what could be perceived as an "alternative pop" framework, they rescued this difficult music from Academia. It helps that Canavarro played in a successful new wave pop band (Street Kids) during the period 1980-83. By association, being a friend since 1976, António was in close contact with many of the musicians and bands that were part of the equally celebrated and detested Portuguese Rock Boom (roughly 79-82).
He was not a musician then but through his friendship with Canavarro, who had the means to acquire electronic equipment, António became involved with that equipment and shared Canavarro's passion for experimentation and curiosity for knowledge. They tried to get hold of as many technical magazines as possible and learn while testing ideas. In 1983, Street Kids were about to break up, young lives drafted into the Army and maybe, in Canavarro's case, a whole new passion for challenging music similar to his bandmate Nuno Rebelo, by then in the process of discovering a wide range of "other" music mainly through Jorge Lima Barreto. Barreto, who had started Telectu with Vítor Rua, possessed a huge book and record collection and, like Rua before them, Canavarro, Rebelo and Ferreira became fascinated by the pool of knowledge they now had access to by frequenting Barreto's house in Lisbon. He was roughly a decade older, had published several books and other writings throughout the 1970s, cultivated an anarchic stance and a penchant for cultural indoctrination. Rebelo was the first to be introduced via his contact with Rua (who had invited him to play in his other band GNR).
Overwhelmed, he felt the need to share his enthusiasm with friends and eventually took a few to the house in true pilgrimage fashion. To see the Light. Among the few he led there was even João Peste, founder of Ama Romanta. Canavarro and Ferreira preceded him.
Ferreira recalls an exciting learning process added to his experiments with Canavarro's array of synths such as the Korg Ms 20, Korg polysix, ARP Axxe, Roland SH-01, the Ensoniq Mirage sampler... He read in a magazine article about someone who had studied at the Institute of Sonology (then in Utrecht, Netherlands) and went there during a vacation trip in the Summer of 1983. He became excited by the prospect of studying at the Institute but money was a problem. Canavarro, on the other hand, was admitted there in the following year. Back in Portugal, Ferreira eventually abandoned his Chemical Engineering studies in Lisbon's Technical Institute in favour of a more focused music practice. He collaborated with Telectu during 1984 and 85 as a sort of technical engineer, implementing some recording solutions and background tapes and went to work at a thermoelectric power plant in Sines, hoping to make enough money to fund his musical studies. He did and proceeded with the paperwork for admission at the Institute of Sonology, now based in The Hague. António studied there in 1986-87 and the present album includes two compositions developed at the Institute: "More Adult Music" and "This Is Music, As It Was Expected", both featuring the voice of Rodney Waschka II. Among other activities and talents, Rodney is an expert in computer music and to António his voice sounded similar to Robert Ashley's, whose work he admired.
What happened at the Institute was a systematization of António's self-taught practice. Computer software, Musique Concrète, noise and silence, organisation of abstract ideas and sounds. The original notes on the back sleeve of the LP give some indication of process and thinking, but a more detailed account was given by António in the liner notes of the CD reissue in 2002, which are also included in this 2025 LP reissue.
The music sounds deep and detailed, despite the fact of António calling it low-fi ("Baixa Fidelidade"). It flows like an improvised performance where several musicians might be responding to each other, respectful of their mutual space. Drama occurs, as a natural emotional connection is sought by the listener. Piano, bells, drone, processed voices, even the clear narrative of Rodney Waschka II, contribute to create a sort of alternative perceptual reality. The sounds are almost tangible, more a part of the physical world than ethereal manifestations and thus it would not be correct to invoke "ambient music" as a selling point. But although "physical" and distinct, this music is still alien, more so in Portugal's 1988 environment. In March, helped by Canavarro, António set up a home studio and there he recorded the remaining material for this album: "Algumas Pessoas Olharam O Sul E Viram Deserto", "Um Som, Seguido De Uma Cena Negra E Malva" and "O Verão Nasceu Da Paixão De 1921".
"Música de Baixa Fidelidade" stands not only as a proof of great resilience but as one of those magnificent works of art coming from someone who balanced technical inclination and emotional sensibility. Because of that, Tózé Ferreira is able to decode the phantom world of sound for anyone who cares to experience the sensation of inhabiting a version of the Future. First ever vinyl reissue, reproduction of the original artwork with an additional insert. Made in collaboration with the artist and the support of Paulo Menezes (Plancton Music), who provided valuable assistance. Remastered by Taylor Deupree."