Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Everything I have heard from VNR so far has kept my interest and is better than good

Re-listening to Boy from MCD was an enjoyable and fluctuating narrative bookended by thoughtful and purposeful sound samples from god knows what. Is it a home movie, a cartoon, a found tape? Folky, abstract, conceptual, pan-aesthetic, bouncing between sarcasm and sincerity. Maybe somewhere else; a place which all tones and styles are open to cause multi-directional intercourse. Quite otherworldly at times but still friendly. Emotionally vulnerable but brave and conscious. Automatic, quick-witted and when necessary, determined. Simultaneously noisy yet seismically peaceful, lyrical and symphonic, formalized yet content driven and punctual. There is pretty much every binary here canceling themselves out to reveal an immanent being beyond war, reveling in wholeness and while ultra sensory, clarity. The guy can take any beat, tone, style, affect and sculpt it into something which even the most ADD infected personality could vibe on. This is the beautiful sound of acceptance. A damn good release in which anyone who actually listens to sound in an artful manner knows this is a cosmology all on its own.

Wichsen Vixen from Thickly Painted Walls is a very interestingly cathartic and angular confessional release. Somber and in a cool way destitute, though very detailed frequencies and articulated tones; completely honest, wispy as hell. Hysterical in a quiet kind of way creating tensions with texture and withheld aggression. On the brink of being terminal. Some very sharp sounds right in your ear. Tone, textural variance, melody, and string work acknowledge some serious sensitivity regarding his ability to paint sound with an impressive varied vernacular of the guitar proper. Good audible lyrics and nice vocal extremities. Unabashedly direct emotionally while still having some abstract moments to lose yourself in. Quality release that takes place in the space which most people cowardly stay away from. To be honest, this release takes place in such a real and immediate time, words to describe it are pretty much futile. It's all in the music.

Abjures from the mysterious J Qosa is new and exciting. Love love love the artwork and see and hear some serious future potential for this artist, not to say that this album right here is not great, but it is getting me excited for more, leaving me with a taste still in my throat for something on the rise to experimental heaven. I love the simultaneous distance and closeness this release has and its sense of process, as well as its volume swelling and dimming. Excellent minimalism and actually pretty fucking weird moments. Barely there Sci-fi free jazz? Cyber vocal emotion sequencer? New music chinese man? Electro acoustic mexican dancer? Folk poet submarine conductor? What the hell is this actually? A sense of intended blanks, starts and stops, in your ear abstract lyrics which convey a place beyond functional language; strange pathos stumbling around. Plucked nerves, atmospheric static, appropriated affections, mental collage simplicity. Very in the here and now, somewhat non-illusionistic, and even zooms out to reveal an observation from out the window. Quotidian lost connection. Sparks of enlightenment disappearing before hitting the ground, noticed only by fellow patients. This stuff is great. Please more.

German's Stalking is both automatic and edited considered feedback, cut-ups, instrument destruction, thrash, and pure electronics. Nice booklet of personal predatory visions of stalked out internet humanoids. Washed out, chaotic, pulsing, and strangely surreal and unique in terms of pure noise. Swirls of frequencies and primal energy mixed with a pathos of frenzy and paranoia. This is raw, mysterious, and only the introduction of a project worth keeping an eye on. There are moments of otherworldly abstractions as well as complete disregard for sense or listenability. There is sensitivity in harshness, consideration in frenzy. Architectural, conceptually concise, perverted, and sometimes beautifully exotic. If this were an island you'd be glad it was only 20 minutes, yet 20 minutes in reality may be infinite when your dreaming. Hopefully you never wake up, and all the people you have been mentally stalking are there to join you in your decadent fantasies come true. Memory is forever.

And there it is. VNR is obviously where it is at. The true. The rare. The uncompromised. The unknown. The real fucking deal. The shit you read about 30 years too late. The Individual

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