2CD HMS 005
Leave it to the head office at Helen Scarsdale to drop the latest
legit pressing of an Omit album on American shores. New Zealand sound
artist Clinton Williams has quietly made his reverberating homemade
minimal noise for two decades now, molding deep, constantly evolving
suburban symphonies that somehow transform the every day into the
pan dimensional. Tracer is an indispensable reissue of a
double CD-R that was released on Williams' SySecular label,
and given the consistently mind-expanding qualities of every second
of this monolithic work, it's sad to think it could've
all but disappeared with nary a subsonic rumble felt the world over.
Despite a constant narcotic quality, Tracer manages to follow
a wide berth of sonic possibilities across its undulating expanses.
This is music that exists in between--the conscious and unconscious,
past and present, life and death, minimalism and noise. Every one
of these tracks breathes with a sinister degraded edge. Whether Williams
is reaching for the sky or drilling deep into the substrate is entirely
up for debate. I'd guess he's doing both, depending on
which track I hear. His gift comes in how he transforms everyday surroundings
into gateways to new worlds. This music will transport any tuned in
deep listener to a variety of alien landscapes--some exalted, some
On a bulk of this album, warping tones phase in and out over a manipulated
sound sample or field recording: Opener "Sequester" splays
dense alien fuzz over robotic beats and a backdrop loop of automated
voice instructions, transforming the mundane data minutia of our every
day into God-like commandments from beyond. The effect is immediately
felt as volume seems to lose mass and time slows down, not so much
approaching the speed of light as illustrating the speed of drone.
An automated voice menu becomes a portal to another dimension. An
effected gust of wind suggests the climate change of some radioactive
wasteland. Who knows how many new dimensions might one day be discovered?
Omit is interested in at least exploring their different aural properties
with a relentless tonal palette of minimal pulse and dark ambient
This is probably what industrial music should sound like, but it's
not industrial. Post-industrial? Sure, we'll give you that.
Omit is the sound of a millennia of progress--building up, crumbling
down and ultimately recombining the very molecules of existence. Of
course, Williams would probably say I'm off my rocker, and he
just wants to make a dreamy / nightmarish drone with occasional levitated
beats. What do I know? Tracer is an ideal document for late
night stumbling through alternate dimensions, and necessary listening
for any fan of mind-expanding trance states via subtle aural manipulation.
- Lee Jackson