September 23rd
The first release from Basinski's new Arcadia Archive series, 'September 23rd' reaches back to the very beginning of his career, recorded in 1982 with a portable cassette deck and based around a plangent piano piece he composed while still at high school. Noisy and ineffably beautiful, it's like 'A Red Score In Tile' dubbed in a wind tunnel..
Basinski was living on Jay Street in Brooklyn when he made 'September 23rd'. He recorded the piano at his downstairs neighbor John Epperson's place, using a cheap tape portable deck while he improvised a piece he'd been developing since he'd been a teenager in the mid-'70s. And although he admits that the results were "pretty terrible", after some Burroughs-style tape splicing, something more shapely began to emerge, so he piped the new collage through a feedback/tape delay system he based on the Frippertronics model, and 'September 23rd' came to be. It's quite a unique piece for Basinski, one that's less reliant on slow-moving decay and more concerned with dynamics and drama. The original piano is presented nakedly at first, but gets drowned out by dense, gaseous noise - the kind of wheezing, industrial fog that made David Lynch's 'Eraserhead' soundtrack so enduringly terrifying. Basinski maintains this motion throughout, weaving the peculiar, saturated fuzz in-and-out of his dilated, Satie-like loops and phrases.
Over the course of 40 minutes, 'September 23rd' shifts patiently but purposefully, liquefying and congealing as the core elements evolve subtly. Even at this early stage in his evolution, Basinski is a master of suspense, working with repetition only to drop things to silence or propel the composition into deafening cacophony. It's material that's not unlike Robert Turman's loop-y, mystifying 'Flux', hiding its complexity in meditative, rhythmic movements that seem to breathe as they cautiously mutate.
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The first release from Basinski's new Arcadia Archive series, 'September 23rd' reaches back to the very beginning of his career, recorded in 1982 with a portable cassette deck and based around a plangent piano piece he composed while still at high school. Noisy and ineffably beautiful, it's like 'A Red Score In Tile' dubbed in a wind tunnel..
Basinski was living on Jay Street in Brooklyn when he made 'September 23rd'. He recorded the piano at his downstairs neighbor John Epperson's place, using a cheap tape portable deck while he improvised a piece he'd been developing since he'd been a teenager in the mid-'70s. And although he admits that the results were "pretty terrible", after some Burroughs-style tape splicing, something more shapely began to emerge, so he piped the new collage through a feedback/tape delay system he based on the Frippertronics model, and 'September 23rd' came to be. It's quite a unique piece for Basinski, one that's less reliant on slow-moving decay and more concerned with dynamics and drama. The original piano is presented nakedly at first, but gets drowned out by dense, gaseous noise - the kind of wheezing, industrial fog that made David Lynch's 'Eraserhead' soundtrack so enduringly terrifying. Basinski maintains this motion throughout, weaving the peculiar, saturated fuzz in-and-out of his dilated, Satie-like loops and phrases.
Over the course of 40 minutes, 'September 23rd' shifts patiently but purposefully, liquefying and congealing as the core elements evolve subtly. Even at this early stage in his evolution, Basinski is a master of suspense, working with repetition only to drop things to silence or propel the composition into deafening cacophony. It's material that's not unlike Robert Turman's loop-y, mystifying 'Flux', hiding its complexity in meditative, rhythmic movements that seem to breathe as they cautiously mutate.
The first release from Basinski's new Arcadia Archive series, 'September 23rd' reaches back to the very beginning of his career, recorded in 1982 with a portable cassette deck and based around a plangent piano piece he composed while still at high school. Noisy and ineffably beautiful, it's like 'A Red Score In Tile' dubbed in a wind tunnel..
Basinski was living on Jay Street in Brooklyn when he made 'September 23rd'. He recorded the piano at his downstairs neighbor John Epperson's place, using a cheap tape portable deck while he improvised a piece he'd been developing since he'd been a teenager in the mid-'70s. And although he admits that the results were "pretty terrible", after some Burroughs-style tape splicing, something more shapely began to emerge, so he piped the new collage through a feedback/tape delay system he based on the Frippertronics model, and 'September 23rd' came to be. It's quite a unique piece for Basinski, one that's less reliant on slow-moving decay and more concerned with dynamics and drama. The original piano is presented nakedly at first, but gets drowned out by dense, gaseous noise - the kind of wheezing, industrial fog that made David Lynch's 'Eraserhead' soundtrack so enduringly terrifying. Basinski maintains this motion throughout, weaving the peculiar, saturated fuzz in-and-out of his dilated, Satie-like loops and phrases.
Over the course of 40 minutes, 'September 23rd' shifts patiently but purposefully, liquefying and congealing as the core elements evolve subtly. Even at this early stage in his evolution, Basinski is a master of suspense, working with repetition only to drop things to silence or propel the composition into deafening cacophony. It's material that's not unlike Robert Turman's loop-y, mystifying 'Flux', hiding its complexity in meditative, rhythmic movements that seem to breathe as they cautiously mutate.
The first release from Basinski's new Arcadia Archive series, 'September 23rd' reaches back to the very beginning of his career, recorded in 1982 with a portable cassette deck and based around a plangent piano piece he composed while still at high school. Noisy and ineffably beautiful, it's like 'A Red Score In Tile' dubbed in a wind tunnel..
Basinski was living on Jay Street in Brooklyn when he made 'September 23rd'. He recorded the piano at his downstairs neighbor John Epperson's place, using a cheap tape portable deck while he improvised a piece he'd been developing since he'd been a teenager in the mid-'70s. And although he admits that the results were "pretty terrible", after some Burroughs-style tape splicing, something more shapely began to emerge, so he piped the new collage through a feedback/tape delay system he based on the Frippertronics model, and 'September 23rd' came to be. It's quite a unique piece for Basinski, one that's less reliant on slow-moving decay and more concerned with dynamics and drama. The original piano is presented nakedly at first, but gets drowned out by dense, gaseous noise - the kind of wheezing, industrial fog that made David Lynch's 'Eraserhead' soundtrack so enduringly terrifying. Basinski maintains this motion throughout, weaving the peculiar, saturated fuzz in-and-out of his dilated, Satie-like loops and phrases.
Over the course of 40 minutes, 'September 23rd' shifts patiently but purposefully, liquefying and congealing as the core elements evolve subtly. Even at this early stage in his evolution, Basinski is a master of suspense, working with repetition only to drop things to silence or propel the composition into deafening cacophony. It's material that's not unlike Robert Turman's loop-y, mystifying 'Flux', hiding its complexity in meditative, rhythmic movements that seem to breathe as they cautiously mutate.
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Dark blue coloured vinyl
The first release from Basinski's new Arcadia Archive series, 'September 23rd' reaches back to the very beginning of his career, recorded in 1982 with a portable cassette deck and based around a plangent piano piece he composed while still at high school. Noisy and ineffably beautiful, it's like 'A Red Score In Tile' dubbed in a wind tunnel..
Basinski was living on Jay Street in Brooklyn when he made 'September 23rd'. He recorded the piano at his downstairs neighbor John Epperson's place, using a cheap tape portable deck while he improvised a piece he'd been developing since he'd been a teenager in the mid-'70s. And although he admits that the results were "pretty terrible", after some Burroughs-style tape splicing, something more shapely began to emerge, so he piped the new collage through a feedback/tape delay system he based on the Frippertronics model, and 'September 23rd' came to be. It's quite a unique piece for Basinski, one that's less reliant on slow-moving decay and more concerned with dynamics and drama. The original piano is presented nakedly at first, but gets drowned out by dense, gaseous noise - the kind of wheezing, industrial fog that made David Lynch's 'Eraserhead' soundtrack so enduringly terrifying. Basinski maintains this motion throughout, weaving the peculiar, saturated fuzz in-and-out of his dilated, Satie-like loops and phrases.
Over the course of 40 minutes, 'September 23rd' shifts patiently but purposefully, liquefying and congealing as the core elements evolve subtly. Even at this early stage in his evolution, Basinski is a master of suspense, working with repetition only to drop things to silence or propel the composition into deafening cacophony. It's material that's not unlike Robert Turman's loop-y, mystifying 'Flux', hiding its complexity in meditative, rhythmic movements that seem to breathe as they cautiously mutate.
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
The first release from Basinski's new Arcadia Archive series, 'September 23rd' reaches back to the very beginning of his career, recorded in 1982 with a portable cassette deck and based around a plangent piano piece he composed while still at high school. Noisy and ineffably beautiful, it's like 'A Red Score In Tile' dubbed in a wind tunnel..
Basinski was living on Jay Street in Brooklyn when he made 'September 23rd'. He recorded the piano at his downstairs neighbor John Epperson's place, using a cheap tape portable deck while he improvised a piece he'd been developing since he'd been a teenager in the mid-'70s. And although he admits that the results were "pretty terrible", after some Burroughs-style tape splicing, something more shapely began to emerge, so he piped the new collage through a feedback/tape delay system he based on the Frippertronics model, and 'September 23rd' came to be. It's quite a unique piece for Basinski, one that's less reliant on slow-moving decay and more concerned with dynamics and drama. The original piano is presented nakedly at first, but gets drowned out by dense, gaseous noise - the kind of wheezing, industrial fog that made David Lynch's 'Eraserhead' soundtrack so enduringly terrifying. Basinski maintains this motion throughout, weaving the peculiar, saturated fuzz in-and-out of his dilated, Satie-like loops and phrases.
Over the course of 40 minutes, 'September 23rd' shifts patiently but purposefully, liquefying and congealing as the core elements evolve subtly. Even at this early stage in his evolution, Basinski is a master of suspense, working with repetition only to drop things to silence or propel the composition into deafening cacophony. It's material that's not unlike Robert Turman's loop-y, mystifying 'Flux', hiding its complexity in meditative, rhythmic movements that seem to breathe as they cautiously mutate.
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
The first release from Basinski's new Arcadia Archive series, 'September 23rd' reaches back to the very beginning of his career, recorded in 1982 with a portable cassette deck and based around a plangent piano piece he composed while still at high school. Noisy and ineffably beautiful, it's like 'A Red Score In Tile' dubbed in a wind tunnel..
Basinski was living on Jay Street in Brooklyn when he made 'September 23rd'. He recorded the piano at his downstairs neighbor John Epperson's place, using a cheap tape portable deck while he improvised a piece he'd been developing since he'd been a teenager in the mid-'70s. And although he admits that the results were "pretty terrible", after some Burroughs-style tape splicing, something more shapely began to emerge, so he piped the new collage through a feedback/tape delay system he based on the Frippertronics model, and 'September 23rd' came to be. It's quite a unique piece for Basinski, one that's less reliant on slow-moving decay and more concerned with dynamics and drama. The original piano is presented nakedly at first, but gets drowned out by dense, gaseous noise - the kind of wheezing, industrial fog that made David Lynch's 'Eraserhead' soundtrack so enduringly terrifying. Basinski maintains this motion throughout, weaving the peculiar, saturated fuzz in-and-out of his dilated, Satie-like loops and phrases.
Over the course of 40 minutes, 'September 23rd' shifts patiently but purposefully, liquefying and congealing as the core elements evolve subtly. Even at this early stage in his evolution, Basinski is a master of suspense, working with repetition only to drop things to silence or propel the composition into deafening cacophony. It's material that's not unlike Robert Turman's loop-y, mystifying 'Flux', hiding its complexity in meditative, rhythmic movements that seem to breathe as they cautiously mutate.