John Duval

Hell's Canyon

Hypnos/Binary

This set has been a most pleasant surprise to me. Truth be told, while I appreciate it, I'm not a big fan of the "classic EM" sound. And given that John Duvall is a modular synth technician par excellence, my expectations for his first solo release, Hell's Canyon were, in all honesty, a bit low.

But how wrong I was!

This is a very thoughtful meditation on one notoriously nasty section of rapids in Idaho's cavernous Snake River gorge. As talented as any synth master today, what sets Duval's work on Hell's Canyon apart is his almost Biosphere-like awareness of how to craft an organic landscape. Only as alternative to Biosphere's mesmeric use of field recordings, Duval forges convincing organic wind and bird sounds via his synthesizers (not to mention, an impressive mix by a great surgeon of sound, David Fulton, at his notorious "dungeon" studio in Portland, Oregon).

The massive multi-part opener "Hell's Canyon Suite" takes the listener deep inside the rugged terrain--organic textures careen off of counter points like the unbound white water itself. But Duvall is also very sensitive to his conceptual surroundings--he seems to be very visual in his approach to composing--that is to say, as the river's currents shift so to do these sounds.

Indeed, what distinguishes Hell's Canyon from the pack, is Duvall's highly developed compositional skills. I love electronic music that sounds symphonic without trying to emulate classical so much (i.e., while I respect Wendy Carlos, I would rather listen to wind chimes these days then indulge her classic Switched on Bach). Indeed, with Hell's Canyon, John Duvall proves, perhaps as much any other artist before him, that ambient really is it's own timeless--indeed, classical music. And, in my humble opinion, ambient is at its most effective when the sounds evoke, indeed sometimes inexplicably in the mind of the listener, vast visuals.

A final mention must also go to the anything but "sleepy" closer, "Sleepy Hollow." What impresses me most about this track, is Duvall's willingness to venture into ghostly, indeed, downright dark sonic places. Not for the sake of sounding "dark," but because his conceptual idea calls for dark mystery. Approaching this composition like a film scorer (Tim Burton should have used this one in his remake of the classic starring Johnny Dep [sic] as the science obssesed Ichabod Crane), Duvall paints vast and chilling hues that capture this isolated village at its essence--the unpredictable shifts in timbres, as if the listener, now a resident of Sleepy Hollow, is resigned to wait in the shape shifting shadows of the axe wielding Headless Horsemen. Yet Duval resists Hollywood cliche at every turn. Instead, he maintains his focus on crafting the utter melancholia, dread, and chilling mystery of this legendary fictional landscape.

Hell's Canyon is a very thoughtful, penetratingly evocative work that receives my srongest recommendation.

The Circular Ruins

Land of the Blind

Databloem/DataObscura Records

I must admit, that although I respect the Berlin School for its obviously seminal contributions to ambient electronica, I am not an avid listener of this genre anymore. Likewise, I enjoy and respect the genius that is Terry Riley, but his minimal synth works rarely find there way into my CD player these days.

Coming from this perspective, it thus must seem strange that I am writing a review of an Anthony Paul Kerby (aka The Circular Ruins) release - an artist who cites Terry Riley, Tangerine Dream, and Klaus Shultze as primary influences. But, truth be told, I am absolutely taken by his latest release, Land of the Blind.

Yes, tracks 1 and 2 have a heavy Riley Rainbow in Curved Air digi-blip-minimalism. But there is something far more fascinating going on here. Yes, now I know what it is: Kerby has taken Riley disciple turned-quasi-antagonist/far-more-commercially-successful composer, Steve Reich--specifically Reich's knack for fascinating and subtly detailed rhythmic patterning (i.e., "phasing") -- and fused them into something altogether original and fresh sounding.

This is no small challenge, especially considering Reich's latest work on Three Tales; a fascinating mutlimedia-opera that seems to signal that Reich might actually appreciate Riley's futuristic minimalism afterall (at least thematically speaking). But Kerby is not merely throwing his voice through some Berlin School-Riley-Reich sound dummy. To the contrary, Kerby has fused these influences into an exciting and highly original sound of his own.

Land of the Blind may very well be Kerby's paean to post-911 Americanism. While there is no obvious protest in these sounds, there seems to be both a somber and sometimes dark awareness of the robotic dogmatism; a political reality in the states that is arguably a far more pervasive feature of American culture than that of British born Kerby's Canada. But this, of course, is all speculation based on the title of this work (and many of the titles herein, like the wonderful, almost post-Reich, "Holiday in Reality" or the "A Rainbow in Curved Air" tinged "Thought is False Happiness," etc.), the fact that I recently listened to Phillip Glass's Koyaanisqatsi, or the fact that the strange echoing voices in the brilliant "The Abyss of Proof" make me think of how desperately unnerving I feel when I read the paper and learn that another innocent Iraqi or young U.S. soldier has been killed.

There is a great yearning in these sounds that has an almost poetic effect on the listener. I do not want to suggest that Land of the Blind is as dark as its title suggests. It has many beautiful moments of soothing melody, such as the slowly unfolding one in the wonderful "Interior Distance." A track that is utterly mesmerizing in its thick and shape shifting textures that swirl around this familiar sounding, yet soothingly hypnotic, melody. The aptly titled "Standing in Violent Golds" is equally loaded with micro-details. But it distinguishes itself with some sudden explosions of pure space ambience. And yes, a softly fading metallic click rhythm works quite nicely here. Many of the tracks on Land of the Blind give the listener -- much like Riley and Reich's finest works -- endless possible variations on the listening experience. While the closer, "A Distant Assembly" teases the listener with its heavy techno-rhythmic intro, Kerby is far too clever to ride this for very long. Indeed, at around the 5:50 mark the track morphs effortlessly into something entirely different. The weaving buzz of synths soar into the distance skies--as if to enter an altogether more mysterious orbital phase. While the sum total of Land of the Blind is far from obvious sounding -- indeed, it is fantastically challenging to pin down -- this addictive and altogether evocative work of post-ambient minimalism has landed in my Top 5 for 2004.

Chad Hoefler

Twilight in the Offing

Hypnos

This record may very well be the purest, most effective synthesis of classic ambient soundscaping and tribal rhythms that I have ever heard. Even on first listen, it is quite obvious that Chad Hoefler has spent countless hours refining this mix -from a piece of carbon he has rendered a sonic gem, indeed.

The thick walls of organic pads and effects - made all the more breathing and alive by Robert Rich's tactile mastering - are often subtle, gradually morphing into lush rhythmic undercurrents.

Consider "Crimson Lost," the track that lately I seem to return to the most. By the time the thick, purposeful drone sucks you in the listener, perhaps without noticing it, is engrossed in the sublime tribal rhythm that bleeds into the marrow of the overall composition. Like watching a setting sun morph from tiny ascending orange orb to sprawling field of blazing light, these colors are simultaneously lost and found - like the substance of twilight - these sounds capture the essence of what we humans call "the day."

The rest of Twilight in the Offing is as equally engrossing and luminous; much in the way that listening to a Thom Brennan record is: "Therapeutic" without falling into new age cliche.

When I listen to this set mindfully, I notice how thoughtful a composer Chad Hoefler is. He has created seven interconnected compositions that represent the inescapable inertia of being: Time. Marking these spaces with beautiful, transient titles such as the aforementioned "Crimson Lost," "On the Eve of the Plum Frost" and "Orchard of Stone," Twilight in the Offing provides the listener with effortless rewards. Indeed, with each additional listen one immerses and is immersed into new and wholly absorbing destinations. Highly recommended.