Boomkat Product Review:
Improv hypnotist Aaron Dilloway induces a mind-bending session for Copenhagen’s Cejero label with a steeply mesmerising suite of mechanical loops unspooling from an elusive axis. Where 'The Gag File', issued earlier this year on NYC’s Dais, incorporated sickly pop elements, there’s less of that frivolity here as he grinds down to a seasick and interminably funky sort of rhythmic noise.
In case you’re new to Dilloway’s oeuvre, he’s essentially one of the North American noise scene’s most distinguished operators. His track record of over 100 releases for almost as many labels connects everyone from his old band, Wolf Eyes, to Kevin Drumm and Robert Turman, defiantly going with and against the grain of American counterculture with a stomach for the most nauseating yet compelling sounds.
Switches is a strong demonstration of Dilloway at his most uncompromising and discomfiting. Like a swim thru the bubbling belly acid of American culture, he pursues the original extremities of NON and Turman along his own parallel narrative, using subtly morphing repetition and abrasive attrition as tactics to seduce and beguile even the most hard-headed listeners.
The A-side yields a full spectrum of his style ranging from palpitating, palsied loops and tonal abrasion in Switch 2, to something like an American take on The Caretaker’s current descent into oblivion with the wilting, elusive phrases buried in Switch 17, while Switch 15 resembles some kind of burnt-out doom dub.
Meanwhile the B-side catches Dilloway at his most obtuse/playful with the snagged loops of Switch 11/12, which, once you get over the urge to nudge the needle out of its rut, seeps in with a viscerally psychedelic effect for its cranky, lurching duration, before Switch 1 locks off something like DJ Screw or Indignant Senility, with half a bar of f*ck-knows-what loping into a brambly haze around its progressively melting axis...