|
delgenelralton would consist of a scattering of bent nails, sawdust, humming bits of random wiring, shredded blueprints and other randomly selected cast-offs of unknown origin, all painstakingly ground into atomized detritus...
These microscopic remains would then be arranged and rearranged, sometimes in patterns, sometimes apparently just strewn about, though when sifting through the heap, one finds many strangely interesting objects. This another of those discs that can provide almost unlimited listening experiences by simply putting your player into Shuffle mode; the 38 pieces (most between 0:30 and 2:30 in length) will reorder into different aural experiences, like plowing through stavöstrand's rubble from a multitude of various angles...
Among the many things you'll find in the electronic debris...
the cinematically suspenseful moodiness of 11; several adjacent tracks (16 through 19) adding up to nearly 2 minutes of almost-silence; and the mecha-naturalistic expanse of 23 where tiny sonar pings lead to the chirping of electric crickets. 26 hypnotically sizzles and whisps with fluttering hisses and distant miniscule warbles; spoken fragments are (almost) discernible here, continuing into the following piece. Dancepop ghosts make a brief appearance in 28.
30 is a 1:19 stretch of more-forceful staticy rhythmication which ripples and bleeps in its own little grand finale. One of the longer tracks (at 4:30), 31 effectively incorporates various phases into intriguing micro-movements, managing to assign meaningful moods to abstract noice.
37 (9:17) flows in a gritty, almost tonal wash littered with scritchy blips alongs its wavering expansion.
The following bit (if you're playing them in order, of course) 38 (0:04) is a mere snippet... buzz, click... silence... brief shimmer.
The liner notes make no mention of stavöstrand's other musical personas (Inanna and Archon Satani), assumedly because these new sounds under his own name are so distinctly unrelated to those dark ambient projects...
|
