Genre: Avant-garde / Experimental
Fred Lonberg-Holm
01 Study
02 Another
03 Study with Lula
Brekekekexkoaxkoax
04 Sorry!
Split CD between two very different artists who take very different approaches but yet somehow manage to talk the same language; and that language seems to be all about collapses and breakings down, of perceptions in one case and the continuously chaotic cycle of creation and decay in the other.
Feedback attacks are nothing new in the avant-garde music scene; but what is perhaps unique in the case of the first artist on this CD is that the sound source is not some wildly flailing guitar-abuser but a cellist. In that sense here we see the collapse of perceptions and expectations, between what we expect a cello to sound like (even an electrified one) and what we actually hear emerging from the speakers; and what does emerge bears very little relationship to anyone’s expectations. Furthermore, the perceptions aligned with that word feedback give rise to the assumption that it denotes a lack of control; here, such an assumption would be completely erroneous – Lonberg-Holm exercises a tightly controlled leash on the howling high-pitched beast that appears to be caged within his amplifier. The dichotomy that Lonberg-Holm pushes to the forefront of our consciousnesses is that normally the cello is somewhat of a restrained instrument and here it is being realigned as a conduit of barely-contained energy and power combined with a hitherto unfamiliar flexibility; also the feedback and the associated harmonics is utilised as an expressive vehicle in itself.
Brekekekexkoaxkoax, apart from having a name that would probably result in someone breaking their jaw should anyone attempt to pronounce it, opt for a much more improvisational acoustic approach, relying on such stalwart instrumentation as oboe, organs, guitars, banjo, clarinet, flute, violin, drums and voice. Although the general feel is atonal and fractal in nature and expression, there’s a cyclic aspect being explored and employed here with a slow repeating pattern across the full 27:41 duration, as the track breaks apart and then builds back up once more, losing density and then combining again, in a reflection of many of the processes of the real world. The process is continuous and in a constant state of evolution, even in those quiet moments when nothing much seems to be happening. Like nature itself, there’s no stasis; just constant flux and reflux, moments of intense activity and periods of relative dormancy – a process that never seems to end and will continue until time itself runs out.
Okay, so it’s unlikely that I’ll listen to this very often and it’s not my cup of tea in the normal course of things, but I won’t deny that it’s an intriguing exercise in pushing boundaries and exploring concepts – plus it’s obvious that each musician has more than a basic understanding of the complexities involved and instinctively knows how best to express them. Worth taking the time to savour so give it a listen.