|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
review by Brian Voerding Solar Fields is electronic musician and composer Magnus Bigersson. Bigersson, who doggedly refuses to commit to a single specific genre, spins a compelling mix of ambient fairytales in his latest full-length offering, Blue Moon Station. The record is a near-continuous soundscape which, unlike many tribal-beat influenced records, refuses to live and die by the beat. Rather, Bigersson explores heat and cold, engaging the typical ambient-oriented elements of atmospherics and drone. His eclectic, complex palatte of sounds ranges from harsh, digitally-filtered strings to the comfort of warm analog beeps and blips. Blue Moon Station opens as a nighttime walk through unfamiliar neighborhoods, a detached soundscape built on swimming drones. Random noises echo from channel corners on "Confusion Illusion", as a pulsating bass gently pushes the ear forward. Without warning, a subtle crescendo into a filter sweep introduces the first tribal beat. Cold, anxious harmonies and thick atmospherics, combined with dedicated polyrhythm, dominate the first third of the record, radiating claustrophobia and constriction. Breathy wood flute sings a yearning introductory melody in "Magic Eye", signaling a change from the previous dark, dense soundscapes. Initially, the beat lurks in the background, allowing sampled, alternating voices to dominate the composition, before rising as the prevalent element, driving the remainder of the song. Sparing atmospheric elements linger on open fifths before finally committing to major tonalities, filtering in warmth. The fifth, club-friendly offering, "Infection 368-7", seems curiously out of place, with a driving four-on-the-floor kick, cymbal splashes, and oscillating melodic rhythms. When the beat dies, the record resumes right where it left off with the spacious "Magnetic Feeling", resonant and rich in space. Delicate strings swirl and swell about, intermingling with cavernous echoes of percussion. This is a north pole seascape, glittering with white noise washes and warm analog blips. Background string orchestras with virtual bows produce open, sonorous harmonies. From here the record delves deeper into exploration of ambience, filled with aural abstractions and polyrhythm. These offerings are relatively devoid of melody, focusing instead on atmospheric modulation and form. Bigersson's ambient writing brings a sense of watching the sun rise on a sleepless night, where contentment battles an unsettled, exhausted feeling. Blue Moon Station favors thoughtfulness and subtlety, two elements apparently inaccessible to the masses of other electronic-minded musicians. Bigersson seems quite adept at betraying his minimalist nature, choosing less and allowing it to do more. His generations of random noise early on in the record demonstrate a certain sense of playfulness, a conscious ability to transcend a heavily processed, sequenced art form. Continuity is lacking; however, this is less of a downfall and more of a minor distraction. The occasional interruption of ambience with hard rhythms feels purposeful in nature. Although not wildly innovative, Blue Moon Station is a nice, easily accessible addition to any ambient-lovers record shelf. |
|
