Rutger Van Zuydervelt's unwaveringly active release schedule finds him transmitting new works every couple of weeks, and Grom is the latest bulletin, the newest in his line of self-released 3" CDS. If you're expecting the quantity vs. quality ratio to start getting all out of whack, I'm afraid you've got another thing coming, although this is certainly one of Machinefabriek's more simple, direct compositions, taking in just under twenty-five minutes of lapsteel and Povtronic synth tones all dragged through loop stations, effects pedals and a laptop. The dynamic range of the piece is pretty extreme, with passages of intense sonic density falling away into an almost silent abyss. The first few minutes elegantly unfurl into a quiet, metallic hum, cradled in a web of fine hiss. After a minute or so, bell-like lapsteel plucks resound, penetrating the quiet like a soundtrack to some minimalist spaghetti western. The drone gradually grows louder and louder, resulting in an ominous, almost doom-tinged infinite chord. This escalation in bandwidth and volume continues right up to the piece's midway point, by which stage you'll be in the throes of sub-heavy abrasion evocative of the low-frequency darkness you'd find on a Sunn O))) record. All pressure is quickly relieved however and the tonal onslaught slowly diminishes into a shimmer of steel strings. In its final phase the piece begins to sound a little less organic, placing greater emphasis on thinned-out bass tones which ultimately evaporate into wispy strands of sustain.
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Rutger Van Zuydervelt's unwaveringly active release schedule finds him transmitting new works every couple of weeks, and Grom is the latest bulletin, the newest in his line of self-released 3" CDS. If you're expecting the quantity vs. quality ratio to start getting all out of whack, I'm afraid you've got another thing coming, although this is certainly one of Machinefabriek's more simple, direct compositions, taking in just under twenty-five minutes of lapsteel and Povtronic synth tones all dragged through loop stations, effects pedals and a laptop. The dynamic range of the piece is pretty extreme, with passages of intense sonic density falling away into an almost silent abyss. The first few minutes elegantly unfurl into a quiet, metallic hum, cradled in a web of fine hiss. After a minute or so, bell-like lapsteel plucks resound, penetrating the quiet like a soundtrack to some minimalist spaghetti western. The drone gradually grows louder and louder, resulting in an ominous, almost doom-tinged infinite chord. This escalation in bandwidth and volume continues right up to the piece's midway point, by which stage you'll be in the throes of sub-heavy abrasion evocative of the low-frequency darkness you'd find on a Sunn O))) record. All pressure is quickly relieved however and the tonal onslaught slowly diminishes into a shimmer of steel strings. In its final phase the piece begins to sound a little less organic, placing greater emphasis on thinned-out bass tones which ultimately evaporate into wispy strands of sustain.
Rutger Van Zuydervelt's unwaveringly active release schedule finds him transmitting new works every couple of weeks, and Grom is the latest bulletin, the newest in his line of self-released 3" CDS. If you're expecting the quantity vs. quality ratio to start getting all out of whack, I'm afraid you've got another thing coming, although this is certainly one of Machinefabriek's more simple, direct compositions, taking in just under twenty-five minutes of lapsteel and Povtronic synth tones all dragged through loop stations, effects pedals and a laptop. The dynamic range of the piece is pretty extreme, with passages of intense sonic density falling away into an almost silent abyss. The first few minutes elegantly unfurl into a quiet, metallic hum, cradled in a web of fine hiss. After a minute or so, bell-like lapsteel plucks resound, penetrating the quiet like a soundtrack to some minimalist spaghetti western. The drone gradually grows louder and louder, resulting in an ominous, almost doom-tinged infinite chord. This escalation in bandwidth and volume continues right up to the piece's midway point, by which stage you'll be in the throes of sub-heavy abrasion evocative of the low-frequency darkness you'd find on a Sunn O))) record. All pressure is quickly relieved however and the tonal onslaught slowly diminishes into a shimmer of steel strings. In its final phase the piece begins to sound a little less organic, placing greater emphasis on thinned-out bass tones which ultimately evaporate into wispy strands of sustain.