As Quiet As A Campfire...
Even among the company he keeps on labels like Raster Noton or Die Stadt CM Von Hausswolff is something of an outsider, forever plotting new paths toward electronic music's experimental vanguard. This album from 1997 was one of the composer's first major releases, pressed up as a limited edition vinyl-only release, that's long-since out of print. The fact that he dedicated the first side to John Cage should give you some indication of what's in store: clearly the tribute is levelled at the John Cage of '4:33' notoriety, and as you'll no doubt discover from a few cursory skips through the Jukebox, this is quiet. Very, very quiet. In contradiction to the subliminal infrasonic infrastructure of the opening piece, the 'B-side' begins with 'Mingling Or Dodekaphonic Drones...' a piece of all-but impenetrable electronic weirdness, and the sound of pure friction. It's a bt like listening to someone attempting to start a fire by rubbing two contact microphones together. For twenty minutes. To some that might sound like the auditory equivalent of purgatory, but this reviewer can think of few better ways of spending an evening (don't judge me). Von Hauswolff finishes with the fourteen minute crowd-pleaser 'Tarac-tac-trans' which expands upon the rhythmic theme established by the prior composition, layering Pan Sonic-style industrial thumping as a substitute for conventional drums. In a way, it's a little disappointing to be confronted by something so palatable after the challenging forty minutes that came before, but it helps demonstrate the full creative breadth of this always remarkable artist's music. Clearly this isn't going to be relished by everyone, but the more intrepid among you will find much to love about this monumentally awkward album.
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Even among the company he keeps on labels like Raster Noton or Die Stadt CM Von Hausswolff is something of an outsider, forever plotting new paths toward electronic music's experimental vanguard. This album from 1997 was one of the composer's first major releases, pressed up as a limited edition vinyl-only release, that's long-since out of print. The fact that he dedicated the first side to John Cage should give you some indication of what's in store: clearly the tribute is levelled at the John Cage of '4:33' notoriety, and as you'll no doubt discover from a few cursory skips through the Jukebox, this is quiet. Very, very quiet. In contradiction to the subliminal infrasonic infrastructure of the opening piece, the 'B-side' begins with 'Mingling Or Dodekaphonic Drones...' a piece of all-but impenetrable electronic weirdness, and the sound of pure friction. It's a bt like listening to someone attempting to start a fire by rubbing two contact microphones together. For twenty minutes. To some that might sound like the auditory equivalent of purgatory, but this reviewer can think of few better ways of spending an evening (don't judge me). Von Hauswolff finishes with the fourteen minute crowd-pleaser 'Tarac-tac-trans' which expands upon the rhythmic theme established by the prior composition, layering Pan Sonic-style industrial thumping as a substitute for conventional drums. In a way, it's a little disappointing to be confronted by something so palatable after the challenging forty minutes that came before, but it helps demonstrate the full creative breadth of this always remarkable artist's music. Clearly this isn't going to be relished by everyone, but the more intrepid among you will find much to love about this monumentally awkward album.
Even among the company he keeps on labels like Raster Noton or Die Stadt CM Von Hausswolff is something of an outsider, forever plotting new paths toward electronic music's experimental vanguard. This album from 1997 was one of the composer's first major releases, pressed up as a limited edition vinyl-only release, that's long-since out of print. The fact that he dedicated the first side to John Cage should give you some indication of what's in store: clearly the tribute is levelled at the John Cage of '4:33' notoriety, and as you'll no doubt discover from a few cursory skips through the Jukebox, this is quiet. Very, very quiet. In contradiction to the subliminal infrasonic infrastructure of the opening piece, the 'B-side' begins with 'Mingling Or Dodekaphonic Drones...' a piece of all-but impenetrable electronic weirdness, and the sound of pure friction. It's a bt like listening to someone attempting to start a fire by rubbing two contact microphones together. For twenty minutes. To some that might sound like the auditory equivalent of purgatory, but this reviewer can think of few better ways of spending an evening (don't judge me). Von Hauswolff finishes with the fourteen minute crowd-pleaser 'Tarac-tac-trans' which expands upon the rhythmic theme established by the prior composition, layering Pan Sonic-style industrial thumping as a substitute for conventional drums. In a way, it's a little disappointing to be confronted by something so palatable after the challenging forty minutes that came before, but it helps demonstrate the full creative breadth of this always remarkable artist's music. Clearly this isn't going to be relished by everyone, but the more intrepid among you will find much to love about this monumentally awkward album.