Xerrox Vol.1 is the first of five in an intended series and is based on the concept of copying. Together with Christoph Brünggel, Nicolai designed a 'sample transformer' which would take audio fragments and manipulate them beyond recognition, taking something familiar and de-familiarising it. The result is perhaps the definitive Alva Noto album and one of the most sublime releases in Carsten Nicolai's weighty catalogue.
Samples were taken from the most obvious sources; advertising jingles, airport tones, telephone hold music and film soundtracks, but the resulting album manages to sound totally unlike any of these things. Instead, what you end with is a series of haunting and intricately realised pieces that re-contextualise his patented 'glitches and bass' sound into long, organic and sometimes almost orchestral pieces of work.
The digital elements are reduced into little more than static noise, leaving only trace echoes of the original material building and falling graciously. On 'Haliod Xerrox Copy 1', for example, ghostly slivers of muzak are played back from what sounds like ancient answerphone tape, making for a gorgeously cinematic and effortlessly experimental soundworld.
View more
Xerrox Vol.1 is the first of five in an intended series and is based on the concept of copying. Together with Christoph Brünggel, Nicolai designed a 'sample transformer' which would take audio fragments and manipulate them beyond recognition, taking something familiar and de-familiarising it. The result is perhaps the definitive Alva Noto album and one of the most sublime releases in Carsten Nicolai's weighty catalogue.
Samples were taken from the most obvious sources; advertising jingles, airport tones, telephone hold music and film soundtracks, but the resulting album manages to sound totally unlike any of these things. Instead, what you end with is a series of haunting and intricately realised pieces that re-contextualise his patented 'glitches and bass' sound into long, organic and sometimes almost orchestral pieces of work.
The digital elements are reduced into little more than static noise, leaving only trace echoes of the original material building and falling graciously. On 'Haliod Xerrox Copy 1', for example, ghostly slivers of muzak are played back from what sounds like ancient answerphone tape, making for a gorgeously cinematic and effortlessly experimental soundworld.
Xerrox Vol.1 is the first of five in an intended series and is based on the concept of copying. Together with Christoph Brünggel, Nicolai designed a 'sample transformer' which would take audio fragments and manipulate them beyond recognition, taking something familiar and de-familiarising it. The result is perhaps the definitive Alva Noto album and one of the most sublime releases in Carsten Nicolai's weighty catalogue.
Samples were taken from the most obvious sources; advertising jingles, airport tones, telephone hold music and film soundtracks, but the resulting album manages to sound totally unlike any of these things. Instead, what you end with is a series of haunting and intricately realised pieces that re-contextualise his patented 'glitches and bass' sound into long, organic and sometimes almost orchestral pieces of work.
The digital elements are reduced into little more than static noise, leaving only trace echoes of the original material building and falling graciously. On 'Haliod Xerrox Copy 1', for example, ghostly slivers of muzak are played back from what sounds like ancient answerphone tape, making for a gorgeously cinematic and effortlessly experimental soundworld.
Xerrox Vol.1 is the first of five in an intended series and is based on the concept of copying. Together with Christoph Brünggel, Nicolai designed a 'sample transformer' which would take audio fragments and manipulate them beyond recognition, taking something familiar and de-familiarising it. The result is perhaps the definitive Alva Noto album and one of the most sublime releases in Carsten Nicolai's weighty catalogue.
Samples were taken from the most obvious sources; advertising jingles, airport tones, telephone hold music and film soundtracks, but the resulting album manages to sound totally unlike any of these things. Instead, what you end with is a series of haunting and intricately realised pieces that re-contextualise his patented 'glitches and bass' sound into long, organic and sometimes almost orchestral pieces of work.
The digital elements are reduced into little more than static noise, leaving only trace echoes of the original material building and falling graciously. On 'Haliod Xerrox Copy 1', for example, ghostly slivers of muzak are played back from what sounds like ancient answerphone tape, making for a gorgeously cinematic and effortlessly experimental soundworld.