PAUL ELLIS

The Sacred Ordinary

Groove Unlimited (2004)

Synthesist Paul Ellis has come to prominence lately with a string of impressive and acclaimed Berlin School sequencer albums. I'm the first to admit that Berlin School doesn't punch my buttons these days, but, as with the impressive Life Sequence by Steve Roach (which Ellis appeared on), I'm open to modern takes on the classic form, provided they sound fresh and new, rather than be rehashes of past triumphs from thirty-odd years ago. Ellis, a former member of Dweller at the Threshold, seems to have moved past pure sequencing in favor of space music featuring it rather than being stylistically ruled by it. Somewhere at the intersection of ambient synthscapes and entrancing sequences lies The Sacred Ordinary, Ellis's latest record.

The Sacred Ordinary begins dramatically with "Icon," a ticking clock of mid-tempo sequencing that cascades prettily and progressively, with a deep low end punctuating the crystalline shimmer. A synth flute solos in tune with the sequencing, bringing a sylvan theme to the proceedings. This is dramatic electronic music, paced well and with ever-changing sequences that feel like gentle showers brushing over the listener's body. Ellis is careful to intersperse the track with many random tones and sounds to keep the listener actively involved--it's a strength that prevents the sequencing from getting too repetitive. "Shining" starts with low, deep gurgling, eventually cut with a slow sequence and phased synth. The sequence begins to build into a more complex pattern as notes are added. A second sequence arrives, this one more frenetic, and the tone is set. More and more sequences are built upon the track until we are placed straight in the middle of an artery; we become a blood vessel furiously tumbling through the circulatory system. Any ambient tendencies from the first track are tossed out the window, as full on sequenced, phasing patterns shift and morph over eleven minutes. The next track, "The Sacred Ordinary," is an almost jarring about face, presenting a gorgeous nine-minute ambient drift piece. Fans of Vir Unis's drift work will especially enjoy this piece, which could find a artistic brother in VU's The Drift Inside. Ellis proves to be no slouch in creating evocative soundscapes; this is a slowly gliding journey, and one that I was happy to listen to on repeat for a while. A surprisingly ambient highlight. "Blue Heron" sounds almost jazzy with a repeated synth phrase met by vibraphone sounds and scattered synth noises. It's times like this that I wish I had a musical vocabulary to describe what the separate elements are doing, because I'm sure it's called something in particular. Needless to say, all the elements build to a tuneful melange of different synth passages. "The Still Center of a Turning World" has an Eastern flavor as if one is walking through a bustling bazaar run by mechanical beings. This song reminds me very much of Roedelius's musical sensibility, and is a light confection of progressive synthwork. "Oresence" begins low and deep, but explodes into dynamic sequencing with a refreshing Indian tonality provided by synths that sound like processed sitar or sarod. The sequences and more traditional sounding instruments (though altered and virtual) don't quite fit, but this is an interesting experiment in East meets West that surprises at every turn. "Cascade" brings harmonic singing into the milieu--always a wonderful sound--and effectively an introduction to Ellis's sacred sequencing which bubbles along as intense as the vocals. The synths are psychedelic and progressive here, reminding me more than a little of Tangerine Dream, though in a far more modern context. The sequencing gets more intense by track's end, eventually hushing into near silence. "After All" returns us to ambience, with an Eno-esque zone of stillness. This is a great, though short, track with melancholy synth that echoes Harold Budd or James Johnson. Gorgeous and a highlight of the disc. "Turning Towards the Sun" is more active, but pursues a similarly meditative mien, with trance synths straight out of the Fax catalog mixed with the flute from "Icon." Finally, "Slowly Beating Wings" begins with a lovely mellotron and opens out into an infinite vista of electronic arpeggios and synth harmonies. This is the most dramatic track on the album, bringing thoughts of ancient earth, early humans, and bright sunlight over desert.

Ellis makes an intrepid attempt to bring the spiritual into sequencing, with varying results on The Sacred Ordinary. While the successful tracks are active and interesting, the spiritual flavor often seems to be no more than another instrument or sound in Ellis's arsenal. Naturally, the sequences tend to overpower other characteristics on the album, which is fine for work of this type, but seems to lessen the impact of elements like the harmonic singing on "Cascade." That said, the sequences and synthwork here are top notch--sure to please any fan of modern synthesis. While The Sacred Ordinary is not quite a seamless blend of ambient and Berlin School, there are more than enough touches of each to please fans of both styles (though the tone of the album tends to favor sequencing over atmospherics). For my own part, I'd love to see Ellis branch into pure ambience--the few tracks in this style here are a fine taster of what an album of that nature would be like. As with the previously mentioned Life Sequence, there is little on The Sacred Ordinary that will convince naysayers of the Berlin School to change their opinions. However, they'd also be missing a very entertaining and diverse work that often manages to transcend the boundaries of its genre as it attempts to reach ever higher into the stratosphere.

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NUMINA

Sanctuary of Dreams

Hypnos (2004)

Jesse Sola prolifically plumbs the depths of dark, opaque ambience recording under the Numina moniker. This Denver, Colorado artist is coming to greater prominence with each release as his skill and talent are honed more deeply. Numina's latest, and first for Hypnos, Sanctuary of Dreams, is perhaps his most mature and fully-realized ambient work so far. Touching only lightly upon the dark and claustrophobic terrains of past work, Sola chooses instead to infuse his latest music with a more dynamic range of sounds, all reverent and melancholy in tone--like a sad dream.

The world of Sanctuary of Dreams is a darkened one; the Sanctuary itself offering the only solace within a largely ambivalent and chaotic environ. The music here is infused with sadness and regret, as if one finds an uneasy catharsis through dreaming and escape. Fans of VidnaObmana's breathing synth work on Ending Mirage will find a familiar terrain in Sanctuary's... first track "Awaken Within a Deeper Realm." There's a gothic mood here, as if one is within a dreamed sunken cathedral as softly pulsing synth textures and lightly symphonic tones create interlocking lines of sound in the mind's eye. "Lost on Silica Ridge" combines some of the nicely rendered electronic percussives of Numina's recent collaboration with Ixohoxi alongside church organ and Obmana synth clouds. "Elements of Time" darkens the mood with processed shakers and claustrophobically manipulated belltones. "In Loneliness, the Landscape Fades" is also deeply reminiscent of VidnaObmana, bordering on pastiche. Synth tones glide lightly like a fogged valley--Sola's synthwork is never static, making an ever-shifting tonescape that seems self-satisfied with its own melancholy mien. "Beneath the Silver Surface" is far more interesting--a subtle and mysterious elixir of strange wooden noises, resonant, lancing synth effects and piano textures. Eventually, a wonderful gonging bell brings us back to gothic zones; a fantastic, dramatic effect. There is indeed a lot going on here underneath the surface--Sola seems stronger on tracks that operate in darker territories. To illustrate this point, the next track, "Thrown Into Oblivion," treads darkly with chorals and stratospheric synth drones spiraling together ever-downward. A lovely moment. Also impressive is "Fractured Eyes" which artfully manages to digest the VidnaObmana influence by combining it with strange, echoed, synth-waveforms. "Dream Recognition (Silhouette of the Past)" is perhaps the highlight of the disc--a soft Bill Nelson-esque dronescape that vibrates and cascades prettily, punctuated by echoed synth-piano notes chiming distantly. Memorable work, well suited to the repeat button. Next is "Lucid Ascension" featuring the vocalizations of Tara VanFlower (from goth-pop group Lycia). It's another pretty track, the vocals adding to the charm immensely--for those who tend to dream about ethereal undersea beauties: you've just found your soundtrack. Finally, "The Waking Breath" clearly ends the dream with a dismissal of the opalescent soundscaping of earlier tracks. Perhaps I'm "reading" too much into this, but a drone track like this after such a romantic and wistful album can only signal a return to the daily grind of activity most mundane. That said, this is a fine, lengthy track--one in a style I'd like to hear more of from Numina--understated, droning, environmental.

Sanctuary of Dreams marks an intriguing high-point in Numina's development as an ambient practitioner. Certainly, we find no artistic vanguard here, as Sola traverses oft-visited sonic landscapes. In fact, Sola's influences tend to take the driver's seat on the first half of the album. The second half, however, is uniquely Sola's own. What we find in total is a satisfying album of well-rendered sonic dream impressions that often achieves more than the sum of its parts. It's almost as though, during the course of the tracks, the Numina-style made itself evident to the artist--this is an imagined impression, since the tracks are not arranged chronologically. I'm duly impressed with Numina's Hypnos debut--it signals that Sola's best work is ahead of him. Sanctuary of Dreams seems likely to be regarded as an artistic turning point for Numina's brand of memorably melancholy ambience.

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STEVE ROACH & VIDNAOBMANA

Spirit Dome

Projekt (2004)

I've been to a number of live ambient shows hosted in Philadelphia called The Gatherings. For those unfamiliar with the event, it's a series of concerts by world-class ambient and electronic artists held in an old, beautiful church near the University of Pennsylvania campus. Back in May of 2002, I had the opportunity to see both Steve Roach and Dirk Serries (VidnaObmana)--supporting the release of their collaboration Innerzone--in this reverent, resonant, and memorable location. On the eve of this event, Roach and Serries held their own gathering, recording live their newest release together, Spirit Dome.

Admittedly, I am no great fan of Innerzone which I felt dealt too evenly in dissonant textures, falling somewhat flat over album length. This material was interesting, but somehow lacked the meat I'd come to expect from these two artists--as if the experimentation and attention to unusual textures had overwhelmed the rest of the sonic elements. I wondered if Spirit Dome would tread the same territory, considering the time period in which it was created. Interestingly, Spirit Dome expands upon Innerzone, including the dissonance, and improves upon it by integrating trademark Roach/VidnaObmana motifs that make the overall pill easier to swallow. This seventy-three minute composition offers a glimpse into a darker territory, heard recently in VidnaObmana's Dante-inspired work, but with enough going on underneath the surface to make it an exciting and dynamic trip.

Spirit Dome is split into eight index points, but is in reality one long track. With Roach's lovely, resonant guitar loops and rainstick, Spirit Dome begins in an organic, if subterranian, place. The effect is one of a gradual approaching--we haven't reached the dome yet, but are clearly on the way to a darker and deeper zone of consciousness. Fujara punctuates the atmosphere, low and subtle. This is an understated and hushed beginning, but the fragile peace is not to last long. A tribal beat enters the fray at index point two--punctuated by shells clattering--bringing the pace up a bit. Remnants of Roach's psychedelic groove discs appear here and there, lancing through a sky that is clearly quite dark. Roach's guitar ambience moves to the foreground, laying down "mystic chords" like a lysergic Daniel Lanois. Things get stormier as track two bleeds into track three, where VidnaObmana's moody tones meld with increasingly strange and spidery guitar tones. The beat is deserted in favor of Innerzone-style dissonance and spacious synth backing. Roach and Serries combine here in a strange kind of artistic harmony where both styles snake around one another in a textural dance of tonality. Near the end of the track, the tribal beat returns--this time recalling the martial tone of VidnaObmana's recent Dante discs. We're traveling deeper, clearly, and it isn't all sweetness and light down there. The synth textures have a chiming and reverent theme, bringing to mind, perhaps, the musical equivalent of an underground gothic cathedral. The harsh, near-industrial sounds of VidnaObmana's recent work take over for the time being as unabashedly synthetic sound churns, with deep bass underpinning fujara that sounds rather like a rusty gate. We're in horror soundtrack territory, but this isn't George Romero stuff, but some kind of psychedelic horror via Mario Bava, where all is not as it seems. The choir of industrial sonics hushes at index point six in favor of a melange of high-pitched tones and strange manipulated sonics joined with deep atmospherics. If this is the sound of a ritual, surely it's that of a frighteningly exotic people, with inexplicable contexts. Track seven brings back the tribal beat, propelling the spooky journey forward--we're no longer mired underground, but somehow gliding over a distinctly dark and shadowy underworld. Finally, track eight brings us out of the dark place--we return to the hushed ambience of the beginning, but we have retained portions of our journey; a journey that moves effortlessly through dark and light territories (though mostly dark).

Spirit Dome is, in my opinion, the strongest collaborative work between Roach and Serries since Circles and Artifacts. It successfully integrates the sonic elements of Innerzone, as well as recent solo work by both artists. Those who prefer the lighter soundworlds of both artists are advised to steer clear of this one, as it's spooky and gothic the whole way through, even after a seemingly harmless, atmospheric start. While I find Spirit Dome to be hardly essential for casual fans--I'd recommend Roach's recent Mystic Chords and Sacred Spaces and Serries's Spore to those who wish to get acquainted with each artist's recent explorations--it offers an intriguing and satisfying document of the strengths of both artists in a live and improvisatory setting.

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JIM COLE

The Way Beyond

Spectral Spiral Music (2003)

In 2002, I wrote about harmonic overtone singer Jim Cole's previous solo work Godspace stating that it was ". . . some of the most superlative ambient music I've ever heard. Surely it will rate in my top three best of the year. It is a work of staggering beauty and nuance, at once improvisational and composed. This disc has such an emotional and spiritual resonance for me; it is as if Cole had tapped into my biorhythms for 74 minutes, occupying my thoughts, and impregnating all activity around me with meaning where before there seemed to be none. This is timeless, important music, and I give it my highest recommendation." It did make it on to my top three list of that year, and I do give it my highest recommendation as one of the finest examples of modern ambient done simply and beautifully, without pretense.

Now I have the opportunity to describe Cole's newest release, The Way Beyond, and I find myself scrabbling at the same phrases I'd written two years ago. I want to warn the reader in advance that I am going to get a little "out there" in this review, but it's the only thing keeping me from gushing uncontrollably about the music. Firstly, this is a vaster work than Cole's previous solo CD--it's comprised of twelve tracks, but each track melds into its successor seamlessly, creating a wavering tapestry of sonic perfumes and impressions. While each cut on the disc has a separate mood or tone, The Way Beyond must be considered as a massive, undulating, living, breathing ambient zone of stillness and, unusually, simultaneous constant change and transition. While the basis of this recording is layered drones comprised solely from Cole's harmonic singing, these layers are overlapped with constantly changing sonic waves and patterns which create the feeling of watching a rushing brook; all motion and churning fluid on top, but a deep, peaceful stillness beneath.

It would be pointless to describe this work on a track by track basis as I do on many reviews. I'm more comfortable attempting to communicate impressions I have while listening; by reading this review, you may in some way have an idea of the places music of this nature can take the willing listener. At around track nine, for example, the deep tones of Cole's voice expand and contract in an almost psychedelic flux, as if one is buffeted upon solar winds. Sometimes while writing reviews of music of this nature, I feel as if I'm the narrator in an Edgar Allan Poe story--swept away describing the effects of his own madness, and leaving no lasting impression on the reader about what he is trying to communicate. This is the difficulty in reviewing The Way Beyond--it calls to mind so many powerful and inexplicably spiritual thoughts, impressions, feelings, that to attempt to put it down on paper is to cheat it of its power in the first place. I'm reminded of the Zen koan (which I will paraphrase poorly) where the student comments to the Zen master: "Master, look at the trees, listen to the birds, watch the sunset dipping below the horizon! It's all so beautiful!" To which the master replies wryly: "Yes, but it's such a shame for you to say so." By the end of track nine, I've thought of this koan and much, much more--a continuous daisy-chain of relationships and correlations within my own conscious (and unconscious) mind. This is inner space music in the highest sense of the term. Cole's seemingly plaintive cries strike as melancholy in track ten, but they are at the same time hopeful. A living embodiment of the pains and pleasures of existence? See? I can't help but get introspective--it's in the very core of this music, which brings one within his or her self to a point of absolute attention to minute thoughts, however ephemeral they may be.

And this is the crux of the matter--at the very core of things, Jim Cole, armed with only looped drones created from his own voice, has somehow unlocked a secret place within just by creating music. Here, as if conjuring a primordial state from the trappings of modernity, we have the ultimate power of ambient music, perhaps (in my opinion) above many, if not most, other types of music. This wordless music, without connotation, has the power to unearth nameless spiritual delight within. There is no question--The Way Beyond is holy music, no matter what your persuasion-- it is ageless, and always a valid and enriching experience. As with Godspace (and I believe that The Way Beyond surpasses its predecessor in terms of breadth and sonic diversity from the same essential sound sources), I find the music herein to be unquestionably one of the finest ambient/atmospheric releases of 2003. This is the kind of music that reminds of why one became an appreciator of the genre in the first place--it makes you feel good, larger than yourself, and, most of all, connected to the artist and music in some way that is difficult to describe with words that always seem clumsy by comparison. This disc goes "way beyond" Godspace, and that's really saying something. The Way Beyond gets my highest recommendation: it's paradigm shattering work by one of the brightest lights in today's ambient scene.

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