Wind
and
Wire
- FARFIELD
- 40 Harrison Road,
- Swaythling,
- Southampton,
- SO17 3TJ
- United Kingdom
Nick Webb, who records as Farfield, has released his second album, Dust and Glass, which both continues on from and expands the themes and musical motifs of his debut album, The edges of everything. This CD proves beyond a doubt that Webb stands near or at the top of the current heap of artists who delve into the less-traveled waters of collage, found sounds, and musique concrete. This is "voyeuristic" ambient music (if one can rightfully call it music, and I don't mean that comment to sound critical). The more I listened to this album, the more I was lured into what seemed to be its web of sinister deceit and vague foreboding. Surprisingly, the sense of foreboding comes from Nick's musical textures, whereas the voyeuristic feeling is elicited by the snatches of dialogue and found sounds. All in all, this is a revelatory experience once one gets used to the fact that melody and traditional ambient music structure (if there is such a thing) are noticeably absent. The first song, "Sun Across My Eyes" brings the voyeuristic element to center stage as we eavesdrop on what sounds like a rather, shall we say, suggestive-sounding phone call between two women (who I think are Norwegian or Swedish). The same lines are looped over a number of times against a backdrop of vague rumblings, strangely tuned piano, and an irregular heartbeat-like pulsing. This is heady stuff and it wasn't until at least the fifth playing that I "warmed" to it, if that can be said of a recording that frequently elicits the feeling that one is hiding in a closet somewhere. Later on, the music on this cut combines snare/high-hat beats with those plunky piano notes and this whooshing sound that, in some ways, reminds me of a spirit passing right through me. Creepy? Oh yeah! But positively fascinating after a while; almost addictive, in fact. The second cut, "Resonance," is much more straight-forward, almost as if Nick knew we needed a breather. Snappy cymbals, thumping bass beats, and washes and drones are laid over what, I swear, sounds like pages being turned in a book. The juxtaposition of these elements works surprisingly well, especially when the introduction of warm washes of synths brings a spacy texture to the song. My only complaint is that the song is a bit short at under four minutes in duration. Next up is the title song and it abruptly starts with industrial rumblings, rasping/crackling noises and noir-ish ambient touches. By now, it's probably obvious to even a casual listener than Nick is working on two levels on Dust and Glass. The album works very subtly as background "noise" thanks to the voyeuristic angle. At times, the boundary between the recording and your environment may even blur at times. But, the musical side of the album is unique and even startling enough that only with foreground listening can one appreciate what went into the making of this CD. On the title cut, for instance, the "booming" and echoes in the background are counterpointed against what could be the sound of some wild beast grinding its prey's bones to dust. Disturbing? Yeah, you might say that. But also captivating in a strange way as well. "Ascent" begins in a positively "warm" vein, though. Shimmering synths are matched against more industrial-type noises and textures but the overall effect is considerably more "optimistic" than what has come before. "Ascent," and a later cut, "Wellhouse Lane," make use of field recordings from a celebration near Glastonbury Tor during the Millennium. Flood waters lapping and distant cries are used to interesting effect, to say the least. As "Ascent" progresses, hand drum rhythms come and go, along with crowd noises. The voyeuristic angle at work again, no doubt. "Spider before..." is very dark and mysterious, with rumblings, washes, and industrial buzzing noise effects. Dust and Glass is seldom an "easy" listen; but that's not Nick's intent, I'd wager. This is an experiential album, albeit an experience filtered through the darker and more mysterious hallways of the artist's mind and psyche. Frequently, just when the darkness and voyeurism becomes almost oppressive, Nick introduces a "warm" texture as a moment of relief (such as on "Spider before..." with its occasional "bell" tones, juxtaposed with a scratchily-recorded snippet of dialogue between a man and woman). Some songs are quite short and, as such, flirt with the outside perimeter of an emotion, such as the almost cheery "Back 1 Time" (although I use the term "cheery" quite relatively). Even here, there is a collage effect of the sound of something scraping and maybe a coin being twirled on a desk. The scraping noise hints of something ominous. Then there is the piano-led number, "Forget to Appear..." a real oddity amidst the rest of the album. Of course, it's not just piano, but the mood is considerably lighter and more subdued than a lot of the earlier songs. But there are plenty of quirky synthetic and alien-electronic effects in the mix, subdued as they are, so no one will think they stumbled onto a David Lanz CD! I'm not going to tell you that Dust and Glass is for everyone. While it shares none of its literal characteristics, this recording nonetheless reminds of another brave and adventurous CD, By The Pricking of My Thumb, from the duo "where echoes end." Any one cut on Dust and Glass could stand as a fine piece of ambient noir (emphasis on the noir) and some cuts (such as the all too brief closer, "Miles Away") are literally beautiful in a dark and shadowy way. However, taken as a set piece, the album can be difficult listening if one needs to "enjoy" an album to appreciate it. Works of an experimental or non-traditional nature always demand more of the listener than even the best "normal" ambient music. If you think you're up to the task and your taste runs more toward the darker side of the spectrum of electronic textures, Dust and Glass could the doorway to an intriguing soundworld. In the end, what the album reminded me of was an art gallery exhibit I saw several years ago. The exhibit was a recreation of a section of an old hotel, consisting of a dark hallway and about eight doors. As one approached each door (triggering a microswitch in the floor) one could hear noises and/or conversations from within the rooms - a radio broadcast, two people talking, someone moving around the room. The exhibit was dimly lit and even the air was purposely stale and "old." The overall effect was eerie but incredibly compelling. It was hard to leave. In some ways, Dust and Glass is like that exhibit. It's a bold and daring attempt by an artist who truly walks to the beat of a different drummer. review by Bill Binkelman |