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review by Bill Binkelman Dwight Ashley offers a unique vision of stark, lonely haunting ambient music on Four, one of two recordings he released in 2004 (the other is Discrete Carbon). Using an assortment of synths and electric guitar, he has crafted an album that fits the cover graphic (a black and white photo of an outstretched hand, palm side outward, missing part of its index finer, rising from a serene color landscape of wheat fields under a pastoral sky carrying a hint of summer thunder). It's a visceral and visual juxtaposition (the calm rural landscape starkly contrasted by a supplicating gesture, as if a person is lying on the ground, desperate for help, perhaps even gesturing to the world at large). Such an audacious image deserves and receives a richly textured musical accompaniment, and Ashley delivers it in minimal fashion with grace, a palpable sense of moodiness, sadness, and a beauty born of deep sorrow. In some ways, this recording resembles Jeff Greinke's Wide View. It carries that same blend of spacious intimacy, colored with melancholy. However, some of the songs here are more abstract and ask for a more attentive attitude from the listener in order to dig under the surface and reveal the kernel of emotion buried under the ambient textures, noises, and effects. Other tracks embrace a stronger melodic content, and in those instances, Ashley's work strongly resonates with his sometime collaborator Tim Story. He also shows a tender side, albeit one laced with subtle flavors of menace, on a song like "Holes Within Holes" with its sweeping washes of lush synths, almost as if you were soaring gracefully over the prairie pictured on the album's cover. The album is rich with excellent selections. "I Saw a Thousand Swallows" offers gently pealing guitar that echoes softly into the distant set against a shadowy but not oppressive background of tones and drones. "Stranded" feels exactly as you'd expect it to -- the soundtrack for being lost, alone and fearful, in deep dark woods or perhaps cast adrift on a vast sea under a threatening sky with no land in sight. Billowing waves of moaning drones and vaguely metallic textures coalesce and break apart, and the drones have faint lower register musicality to them, which lends a minute amount of comfort to the desolation the music imparts. Later in the song, electric guitar carries across the water/land like a faint beacon of hope, guiding you (hopefully) to a safe harbor or cabin in the woods. "The Art of Standing" bears resemblance to Tim Story's neo-chamber minimalism, albeit with the main musical component being electric guitar, not piano. Swirling layers of synthesizers are counterpointed by a hint of classical strings pouring forth their soul in sad beautiful snippets of melody. Another stark juxtaposition occurs on "I Swallowed a Thousand Saws" with its adagio-like massed strings blended with mildly distorted faint but stinging electric guitar leads and deep dark drones. This is followed by another darkly tinted soundscape, the eerie "The Mighty Fallen Rust in the Sun," (the longest track here at nine-and-an-half minutes). Here there is no juxtaposition, just undulating waves of drones and rumblings that grow louder and then subside, joined later by the most blistering guitar yet from Ashley, rolling through the music in a wave of feedback and mild distortion. The continuously repeating ebb and flow of the drones underneath the guitar sounds like you are being pitched on stormy ocean waters, up and down, trough to crest. The album climaxes in a daring, audacious, startling display of timpani and snare drum eruption on "Best of Times" which is then pushed back in the mix, replaced by more neo-classical strings weaving a dense web of drama and intrigue as they wend their way towards a powerful crescendo of strings, snare drum rolls, kettle drums, and wildly electronic synthesizer effects! To say this type of conclusion is unexpected after the music which has preceded it is an understatement. How it will play with listeners is anyone's guess (I would suspect some will bail out before it hits, since it does disrupt the "mood" of what has come before it). Technically, Four exhibits state of the art recording technology. I'll bet this is an amazing experience played on superb speakers in a quiet dark room! Headphones accurately reveal the depth, width and breadth of the mix, as drones, synths, and guitar all hang suspended in different areas of the soundfield. Artistically, I found the CD to be one of those that took a few playings to "tune in to" but once I dialed in, I was impressed by what I heard. Ambient music fans that like their darker music tinted with traces of light and beauty but also appreciate music draped in the violet shades of melancholy emotions of sadness, regret, and even mourning, should resonate deeply to Four and find it a rewarding experience. It easily merits a rating of "highly recommended" from me. |
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