Black Tie
Refined continental dread from Erik K. Skodvin, with his first offering as Svarte Greiner since 2011's Twin. With its distressed cello parts, plunging doom guitar chords and chasmic reverbs, the title track can't help but call to mind Raime's Quarter Turns LP, but of course Skodvin is no neophyte, he's been honing this sound over many years, and his execution of it here is exemplary - it's 20 minutes go by in a flash, testament to the consummate depth and character of a music that seems so sparse and forbidding at surface-level. 'White Noise' is a more electronic, drone-oriented piece, the horror more visceral than existential; quivering strings and gaseous synth tones approximate the filmic suspense of Gruppo di Improvvisazione di Nuova Consonanza, but an assertive sub-bass presence and confidently minimalist approach to arrangement bring things bang up to date, and the closing sequence of what might best be described as funereal, heavy-gaited techno is worth the price of admission alone - in terms of contemporary comparisons, Demdike Stare is probably the most accurate. Originally made for an installation by Norwegian artist Marit Folstad, both 'Black Tie' and 'White Noise' are plenty evocative on their own.
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Refined continental dread from Erik K. Skodvin, with his first offering as Svarte Greiner since 2011's Twin. With its distressed cello parts, plunging doom guitar chords and chasmic reverbs, the title track can't help but call to mind Raime's Quarter Turns LP, but of course Skodvin is no neophyte, he's been honing this sound over many years, and his execution of it here is exemplary - it's 20 minutes go by in a flash, testament to the consummate depth and character of a music that seems so sparse and forbidding at surface-level. 'White Noise' is a more electronic, drone-oriented piece, the horror more visceral than existential; quivering strings and gaseous synth tones approximate the filmic suspense of Gruppo di Improvvisazione di Nuova Consonanza, but an assertive sub-bass presence and confidently minimalist approach to arrangement bring things bang up to date, and the closing sequence of what might best be described as funereal, heavy-gaited techno is worth the price of admission alone - in terms of contemporary comparisons, Demdike Stare is probably the most accurate. Originally made for an installation by Norwegian artist Marit Folstad, both 'Black Tie' and 'White Noise' are plenty evocative on their own.
Refined continental dread from Erik K. Skodvin, with his first offering as Svarte Greiner since 2011's Twin. With its distressed cello parts, plunging doom guitar chords and chasmic reverbs, the title track can't help but call to mind Raime's Quarter Turns LP, but of course Skodvin is no neophyte, he's been honing this sound over many years, and his execution of it here is exemplary - it's 20 minutes go by in a flash, testament to the consummate depth and character of a music that seems so sparse and forbidding at surface-level. 'White Noise' is a more electronic, drone-oriented piece, the horror more visceral than existential; quivering strings and gaseous synth tones approximate the filmic suspense of Gruppo di Improvvisazione di Nuova Consonanza, but an assertive sub-bass presence and confidently minimalist approach to arrangement bring things bang up to date, and the closing sequence of what might best be described as funereal, heavy-gaited techno is worth the price of admission alone - in terms of contemporary comparisons, Demdike Stare is probably the most accurate. Originally made for an installation by Norwegian artist Marit Folstad, both 'Black Tie' and 'White Noise' are plenty evocative on their own.