Boomkat Product Review:
Field inquisitor Kate Carr gets right under the skin with a self-released, sonic diary of 18 months in London, documenting all its infrasonic rumbles, meridian timbres and scuttling rhythms in the impressionistic style that resonates heavily with everyone from Lucrecia Dalt to David Toop and Chris Watson.
Kate’s reserved some of her most spellbinding work for this, her first vinyl release since 2016, conceived between 2018 and this year in response to an invitation from TACO! In Thamesmead, South East London, as a request to document the space and her relationship to it. Fragmented in 9 pieces, the final, edited and layered recordings render the experience of travelling to and from her home and studio, and her actions there and thereabouts, collaged in filigree ways that variously feel like she’s playing origami with your inner ear, or inverting the density of London and its daily life into dematerialised plasma.
In her own words, Kate'as music ushers the listener to “drift with the current through misty scenes, on a journey down a river towards some marshland on the edge of an urban sprawl”, and it does so with a mix of haptic harshness and barely-there tenderness; coaxing us into her between-worlds sound with ‘Detritus Clouds’, and quietly shocking out with the electricity crackle of ‘It’s a steep climb to the freeway underpass’, invoking the eeriest nooks between waking life and simulacra in ‘Abraded’, and the empty-belly tones of ‘Pebble Dash Static’, to an uncanny atmospheric inception with ‘Vegan hotdogs and Windemere park’.