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COELACANTH
MUD WALL
HMS003 CD Helen Scarsdale
Brainwashed
Volume 7, Issue 28
reviewed by
Lucas Schleicher
Loren
Chasse and Jim Haynes make a very strange breed of murmuring
and throbbing music. Where other sound-sculptors might keep
a consistently harmonious shift at work in their music in order
to provide a sense of change and movement, these two are content
with adding glitches, static, and faults to their instruments
in order to affect a drift in the music that could be almost
unnoticeably small, but might also turn out to be radical in
degree. Mud Wall originally appeared on the Mystery Sea
label in an edited form. Re-released by Helen Scarsdale with
twenty additional minutes of music, it is a consistently alien
and confusing recording. There runs throughout the duration
of this one-track, fifty-eight minute record a noticeable hiss
that becomes a bit annoying at times, but it also serves as
the central element of the music and is about the only thing
that holds the album together as a whole. Two distant points
on the record share a similar trait: the sound of jewelry or
glass rolling about in a jar. Outside of these few elements,
Mud Wall sounds like a bit of muddled sound-collage to
me. This is part of what makes the record so confusing. I know
that, at certain points, the music suddenly shifts direction
and introduces a new sound to focus on, but that sound always
seems to succumb to the hiss that is so aggravatingly omnipresent.
Going back over the record and skipping in between various points
in time, it is quite obvious that Coelacanth has a good variety
of tones, found sounds, and strange samples that are strung
together by a universal mystery. Something happens in between
these sections of diversity, then, that make the album sound
all too samey. This is another confusing aspect of this record:
I didn't like it at first, its immovable and fixed nature simply
didn't appeal to me the way other droned-out records did. I
listened to it twice, anyways. By the time I'd become frustrated
with myself for not being able figure out what disliked about
this record, I'd probably gone through the record ten times.
A few more listens and I was able to pick out the small details
that weren't so quickly obvious. And here I sit now, wondering
why it took so long to figure out the obvious. The different
sections of this record are, in hindsight, obvious. No matter
how many times I repeat that to myself the music ends up feeling
too monotone by the end of the album. The actual process of
listening to the music turns everything into a homogenous wall
of sound where very few heterogeneous elements can stand out.
Knowing now what my source of displeasure has been, it's hard
for me to not recommend the music. The trick the music played
on my head through subsequent listens was frustrating, but it
was also entertaining enough to keep me listening and to keep
me finding new elements on the record. There's a fantastic series
of ideas or quotes that serve as liner notes and one of them
is particularly descriptive of the music: "I can describe
it in no other way than this: in that moment, I was certain
there were ancient forces listening... in a silence like fossils."
The silent transitions and changes on this record can only barely
hide that there is something more happening behind the inertia. |
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