1.1 bassdrum, feedbacks [various vibrating/harmonic states of a drumskin], "what's wrong with a cowboy in Hamburg ?" (in "Der Amerikanische Freund", Wim Wenders, 1977). 1.2 vinyls, nails, plastic box, pick-up parasits and feedback [from moving mono to static stereo, orginally composed for a performance with Violetta Perra], "splinters floe" might be a poor translation. 2.1 many concerts recordings in various large spaces [amplification of the "silent parts"], I shall here thank all the friends and musicians one can ear fragments on this piece. 2.2 feedbacks, open piano, magnetic glitches, pre-amps, laptop and house noises, "c'est ces choses là que nous enterrons" (from a french translation of "O Esplendor de Portugal", Antonion Lobo Natunes, 1997, or perhaps from "A Ordem Natural das Coisas", 1992, not quite sure now), something like "it is these things that we bury".
When it gets boring it becomes interesting. (How far can one go with a very simple idea ?) Is there a point in time where the boredom mutate to something else ? (Not physchedelia, just new mechanisms). Mettre deux choses en regard. (The most so-called non-expressive is it still expressive somehow?) (I'm listen Sun Ra while writting this..."so the nothing and the air and the water and the fire are really the same --- upon different degrees"). I love this state of almost nothing happening, but in constant way, just like it looks almost immobile but not, like the continental drifting, (things take shapes "upon different degrees"). Is all of this an allegorie of myself ? (it sounds damn romantic then). "Of course it won't work. So what?" (from the english subtitles for "Angst essen Seele auf", Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1974).
D'incise (1983), electroacoustic musician, doing both composed and improvised works, from so called electronica to musique concrète, drone, EAI and post-reducionnism influences. He focuses mainly on generation and manipulation of acoustic sound sources and objects, loves feedbacks and digital glitches as well. He tends to extract the most tiny details of the elements, appreciates slowness and obsessive explorations of simple processes. He coordinates the Insubordinations netlabel, dedicated to improvised musics, and was actively inside the Audioactivity collective and netlabel, does graphic design and works sometime on sound installations. Deeply influenced by the free culture thinking he loves to share and spread its albums and creations on the web.
CC by.nc.sa 2012
Swiss-based Peter Laurent (d'incise) offers four lengthy works on this double-disc set, centered around drones and the audible elevation of small sounds. These range from vibrating drum skins to the amplification of "quiet parts" from past concerts (an idea I rather like). This latter is my favorite piece here, yielding a varied rnge of not-overtly-related sounds and textures that possess a very full feeling, elements jostling around in space, buffeting each other, sliding past one another, chaotic but of a whole. In the notes tot he release, he writes, "When it gets boring it becomes interesting" and d'incise abuts that subjective divide now and then. All the tracks are listenable though at times, my attention wandered,which is perhaps fine. I'm guessing that they'd function quite well as traditional (that is, Eno-oriented) ambient music in the sense of subtly causing one to think differently. Hard to say. Listening to the final piece, assembled from "feedbacks, open piano, magnetic glitches, pre-amps, laptop and house noises", one realizes that there's a hell of a lot occurring beneath the apparently simple hum though attempting to focus on it, like looking directly at a faint star in the night sky, often causes the cohesion to disappear. Very interesting work, especially the second disc. Worth checking out for those inclined in this direction.
The genre of drone music has found a powerful voice in Swiss composer D’incise. During the past decade he has worked on several releases that have pushed this hypnotic medium into new territories. The latest release from d’incise, "Prairie”, continues this exploration of the minimal, stretching field recordings of various objects beyond their original forms, transforming them into unrecognisable sounds with their own tonal and emotional resonance.
"Prairie” is a four-track release split over 2-cds. Each track is quite lengthy, ranging from twenty-five minutes to one hour. Over the duration of three hours the listener is presented with subtle layers of sound that slowly weave around each other in a darkly atmospheric way. One of the pleasures of "Prairie” is listening beneath the swirl of drones, where a plethora of minute sounds is revealed.
"Prairie” demonstrates a highly creative process behind each track. "What’s wrong with a cowboy in Hamburg” features the harmonic vibrations of a drum skin, whilst "Amplification of a number of points supposedly worthless” features the magnification of quiet moments at a number of concerts. Recordings of nails, plastic boxes, feedback, and domestic sounds are also included to add depth to the tracks.
As with most forms of drone music the compositions sit comfortably in the background, the subtly layered tones fading in and out of the listener’s consciousness. However listening attentively through headphones provides a much more rewarding experience. D’incise knows how to use stereophonic effects to their fullest potential, with miniscule crackles and bleeps moving steadily between one ear and the other. It is through this act of listening that we realize the multi-layered complexity that exists in his work. Drone music, often accused of being too simplistic or monotonous, is shown in "Prairie” to be a highly elaborate construction. A sense of tension exists in "Prairie”, as the listener’s attention is manipulated between the background and foreground of the compositional elements.
In modern musical discourse drone music is often reduced to the label of "stoner rock”, yet this terminology shows a disregard to its historical lineage and present day intent. Drones can be traced back thousands of years to the mesmeric sound of the Australian Aboriginal didgeridoo, and in the religious music of medieval European music. As with contemporary drone music these ancient cultures utilised dense and slowly evolving harmonies to subconsciously still the listener’s sense of time, enabling us to leave the external world and travel inwards. This approach is in opposition to today’s modern music that relies upon fast editing, big beats and anthemic build-ups; a point alluded to by d’incise in his liner notes stating "when it gets boring it becomes interesting”.
"Prairie” can be played as both an ambient record or as something to be listened to much more attentively. My suggestion is to put on a pair of headphones, turn off the lights and allow yourself to be moved by the deeply meditative tones of d’incise.
-Jay-Dea Lopez, The Field Reporter.
MINIMALISME - D'incise (aka Peter Laurent) a compris une chose essentielle, mais qui peut rebuter beaucoup d'auditeurs: c'est, dit-il, "lorsque que la musique devient ennuyeuse que cela devient intéressant". Le but de l'artiste revient à explorer des moments limites au moment où l'ennui subit une mutation en quelque chose d'autre. Et ce non par des procédés psychédéliques, mais par la création des mécanismes et des drones d'un parfait minimalisme.
Comme Sun Ra, pionnier de ce type d'expériences, Peter Laurent écoute les éléments premiers: il plonge l'air, l'eau et le feu dans le "rien changeant des résonances" dont parlait Michaux. Il les met en regard selon différents degrés d'intensité minimale afin de générer des émotions particulières que la musique "normale" ignore.
Prairie est composé de quatre longs morceaux de musique électro-acoustique minimaliste et expérimentale. Reprenant divers types d'harmonie, de vibrations et de sonorité créées à l'aide de percussions, de boites de plastique, d'ongles et de bruits parasites, What's Wrong With A Cowboy in Hamburg, et Eclats Banquises créent une musique volontairement appauvrie.
Plus loin, l'artiste se saisit de divers temps de concerts empruntés à plusieurs artistes. Il en explore les moments de creux. Plus loin encore, bruits de piano, scories de bandes magnétiques, sons tirés d'ordinateurs ou du quotidien créent le morceau le plus fort: C'est ces choses que nous enterrons. Une amplification paradoxale, car imperceptible, emplit l'espace sonore de courants comme trouvés en cours de route, captés par surprise, qui se rajoutent subtilement au flux premier.
L'artiste saisit les moments ineffables qui s'étendent et rendent les sons eux-mêmes presque immobiles dans, dit l'artiste, "une allégorie de moi-même". Cela est, dans l'esprit, très romantique. Dans l'œuvre proposée, l'histoire est différente. Sauf à parler alors du romantisme allemand. Peter Laurent, comme jadis Novalis, y explore des gouffres où il n'existe pas de silence aussi profond qu'ils ne puissent être entendu.
Les quatre œuvres sont autant d'errances programmées. En dessous d'une sorte de ligne de flottaison apparaît un bourdonnement sourd comparable visuellement, dit encore le musicien, "à la perception de la luminosité de la plus faible étoile dans la nuit". Toute cohésion rigide disparaît au profit d'une cohérence défaite pour ce scintillement auditif. Il se délite dans la soie des fibrillations et par la matière des sons dont la texture est offerte.
DE Jean-Paul Gavard-Perret