Consumed In Key
With Tiga on the dials, Richie Hawtin and Chilly Gonzales re-imagine 1998's slow acid classic 'Consumed' as an after dinner piano recital. It's a record full of conceptual chutzpah, we'll give them that, and in some respects feels so laughably bad/mad that it tips over into a kind of sadomasochistic greatness. If nothing else - it's well worth a listen, for the crack.
Did anyone ever listen to 'Consumed' and wonder what it might sound like if someone jammed along on piano in the next room? Well that's what we're treated to with 'Consumed in Key'. It's hard to tell if it's an inside joke between Canadian besties Tiga, Hawtin and Gonzales - certainly the artwork is a slick bit of genius, taking the original album's iconic hyper-minimal sleeve (a single obelisk-like hole in dark blue on black) and reimagining it in black and white to represent a piano. And the title feels like a stretch, as there's more than one moment when Gonzales' ivory tickling doesn't even seem to be harmonizing with Hawtin's pulsing 303s at all. But aside from that, it's a pure troll.
Not only does 'Consumed in Key' make the original album worse, but it does so in such an unfathomably funny way that it's almost worth hearing just to know it exists. When 'Consumed' was released, it felt like the conclusion of a specific journey for Hawtin as he took acid to its most cavernous, minimal extreme, forgoing riffs and hooks in favor of bass pulsations and unsettling reverb. Adding baroque piano flourishes is the musical equivalent of George Lucas taking an ILM-rendered leak over the original Star Wars trilogy.
"An obsessive fascination untempered by fearful reverence..." the press release reads. We look fwd to Sven Väth playing kazoo over 'Sheet One' next.
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With Tiga on the dials, Richie Hawtin and Chilly Gonzales re-imagine 1998's slow acid classic 'Consumed' as an after dinner piano recital. It's a record full of conceptual chutzpah, we'll give them that, and in some respects feels so laughably bad/mad that it tips over into a kind of sadomasochistic greatness. If nothing else - it's well worth a listen, for the crack.
Did anyone ever listen to 'Consumed' and wonder what it might sound like if someone jammed along on piano in the next room? Well that's what we're treated to with 'Consumed in Key'. It's hard to tell if it's an inside joke between Canadian besties Tiga, Hawtin and Gonzales - certainly the artwork is a slick bit of genius, taking the original album's iconic hyper-minimal sleeve (a single obelisk-like hole in dark blue on black) and reimagining it in black and white to represent a piano. And the title feels like a stretch, as there's more than one moment when Gonzales' ivory tickling doesn't even seem to be harmonizing with Hawtin's pulsing 303s at all. But aside from that, it's a pure troll.
Not only does 'Consumed in Key' make the original album worse, but it does so in such an unfathomably funny way that it's almost worth hearing just to know it exists. When 'Consumed' was released, it felt like the conclusion of a specific journey for Hawtin as he took acid to its most cavernous, minimal extreme, forgoing riffs and hooks in favor of bass pulsations and unsettling reverb. Adding baroque piano flourishes is the musical equivalent of George Lucas taking an ILM-rendered leak over the original Star Wars trilogy.
"An obsessive fascination untempered by fearful reverence..." the press release reads. We look fwd to Sven Väth playing kazoo over 'Sheet One' next.
With Tiga on the dials, Richie Hawtin and Chilly Gonzales re-imagine 1998's slow acid classic 'Consumed' as an after dinner piano recital. It's a record full of conceptual chutzpah, we'll give them that, and in some respects feels so laughably bad/mad that it tips over into a kind of sadomasochistic greatness. If nothing else - it's well worth a listen, for the crack.
Did anyone ever listen to 'Consumed' and wonder what it might sound like if someone jammed along on piano in the next room? Well that's what we're treated to with 'Consumed in Key'. It's hard to tell if it's an inside joke between Canadian besties Tiga, Hawtin and Gonzales - certainly the artwork is a slick bit of genius, taking the original album's iconic hyper-minimal sleeve (a single obelisk-like hole in dark blue on black) and reimagining it in black and white to represent a piano. And the title feels like a stretch, as there's more than one moment when Gonzales' ivory tickling doesn't even seem to be harmonizing with Hawtin's pulsing 303s at all. But aside from that, it's a pure troll.
Not only does 'Consumed in Key' make the original album worse, but it does so in such an unfathomably funny way that it's almost worth hearing just to know it exists. When 'Consumed' was released, it felt like the conclusion of a specific journey for Hawtin as he took acid to its most cavernous, minimal extreme, forgoing riffs and hooks in favor of bass pulsations and unsettling reverb. Adding baroque piano flourishes is the musical equivalent of George Lucas taking an ILM-rendered leak over the original Star Wars trilogy.
"An obsessive fascination untempered by fearful reverence..." the press release reads. We look fwd to Sven Väth playing kazoo over 'Sheet One' next.
With Tiga on the dials, Richie Hawtin and Chilly Gonzales re-imagine 1998's slow acid classic 'Consumed' as an after dinner piano recital. It's a record full of conceptual chutzpah, we'll give them that, and in some respects feels so laughably bad/mad that it tips over into a kind of sadomasochistic greatness. If nothing else - it's well worth a listen, for the crack.
Did anyone ever listen to 'Consumed' and wonder what it might sound like if someone jammed along on piano in the next room? Well that's what we're treated to with 'Consumed in Key'. It's hard to tell if it's an inside joke between Canadian besties Tiga, Hawtin and Gonzales - certainly the artwork is a slick bit of genius, taking the original album's iconic hyper-minimal sleeve (a single obelisk-like hole in dark blue on black) and reimagining it in black and white to represent a piano. And the title feels like a stretch, as there's more than one moment when Gonzales' ivory tickling doesn't even seem to be harmonizing with Hawtin's pulsing 303s at all. But aside from that, it's a pure troll.
Not only does 'Consumed in Key' make the original album worse, but it does so in such an unfathomably funny way that it's almost worth hearing just to know it exists. When 'Consumed' was released, it felt like the conclusion of a specific journey for Hawtin as he took acid to its most cavernous, minimal extreme, forgoing riffs and hooks in favor of bass pulsations and unsettling reverb. Adding baroque piano flourishes is the musical equivalent of George Lucas taking an ILM-rendered leak over the original Star Wars trilogy.
"An obsessive fascination untempered by fearful reverence..." the press release reads. We look fwd to Sven Väth playing kazoo over 'Sheet One' next.
Black vinyl with die-cut sleeve.
Available To Order (Estimated Shipping between 7-14 Working Days)
This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
With Tiga on the dials, Richie Hawtin and Chilly Gonzales re-imagine 1998's slow acid classic 'Consumed' as an after dinner piano recital. It's a record full of conceptual chutzpah, we'll give them that, and in some respects feels so laughably bad/mad that it tips over into a kind of sadomasochistic greatness. If nothing else - it's well worth a listen, for the crack.
Did anyone ever listen to 'Consumed' and wonder what it might sound like if someone jammed along on piano in the next room? Well that's what we're treated to with 'Consumed in Key'. It's hard to tell if it's an inside joke between Canadian besties Tiga, Hawtin and Gonzales - certainly the artwork is a slick bit of genius, taking the original album's iconic hyper-minimal sleeve (a single obelisk-like hole in dark blue on black) and reimagining it in black and white to represent a piano. And the title feels like a stretch, as there's more than one moment when Gonzales' ivory tickling doesn't even seem to be harmonizing with Hawtin's pulsing 303s at all. But aside from that, it's a pure troll.
Not only does 'Consumed in Key' make the original album worse, but it does so in such an unfathomably funny way that it's almost worth hearing just to know it exists. When 'Consumed' was released, it felt like the conclusion of a specific journey for Hawtin as he took acid to its most cavernous, minimal extreme, forgoing riffs and hooks in favor of bass pulsations and unsettling reverb. Adding baroque piano flourishes is the musical equivalent of George Lucas taking an ILM-rendered leak over the original Star Wars trilogy.
"An obsessive fascination untempered by fearful reverence..." the press release reads. We look fwd to Sven Väth playing kazoo over 'Sheet One' next.
White vinyl with die-cut sleeve.
Available To Order (Estimated Shipping between 7-14 Working Days)
This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
With Tiga on the dials, Richie Hawtin and Chilly Gonzales re-imagine 1998's slow acid classic 'Consumed' as an after dinner piano recital. It's a record full of conceptual chutzpah, we'll give them that, and in some respects feels so laughably bad/mad that it tips over into a kind of sadomasochistic greatness. If nothing else - it's well worth a listen, for the crack.
Did anyone ever listen to 'Consumed' and wonder what it might sound like if someone jammed along on piano in the next room? Well that's what we're treated to with 'Consumed in Key'. It's hard to tell if it's an inside joke between Canadian besties Tiga, Hawtin and Gonzales - certainly the artwork is a slick bit of genius, taking the original album's iconic hyper-minimal sleeve (a single obelisk-like hole in dark blue on black) and reimagining it in black and white to represent a piano. And the title feels like a stretch, as there's more than one moment when Gonzales' ivory tickling doesn't even seem to be harmonizing with Hawtin's pulsing 303s at all. But aside from that, it's a pure troll.
Not only does 'Consumed in Key' make the original album worse, but it does so in such an unfathomably funny way that it's almost worth hearing just to know it exists. When 'Consumed' was released, it felt like the conclusion of a specific journey for Hawtin as he took acid to its most cavernous, minimal extreme, forgoing riffs and hooks in favor of bass pulsations and unsettling reverb. Adding baroque piano flourishes is the musical equivalent of George Lucas taking an ILM-rendered leak over the original Star Wars trilogy.
"An obsessive fascination untempered by fearful reverence..." the press release reads. We look fwd to Sven Väth playing kazoo over 'Sheet One' next.