Four items sent from the Zoharum label of Gdansk, all arrived 5th April 2023.
Low-key tones from Indalaska on their Musique Des Sables (ZOHAR 272-2) album. The French brothers Olivier and Frédéric Charlot evidently enjoy finding expression in many different band projects, even when it’s the same duo – previous manifestations were Maninkari (classical-ish played on obscure instruments) and Sphyxion (heavy on the synths). I quite liked Sphyxion, but this new incarnation doesn’t manage to engrave any new lines on my tusks; it’s (roughly) their take on cold and minimal wave ambient-drone, and the label tells us it can be enjoyed as frames from a slow-motion film of some sort, unfolding at a very relaxed pace. This “sandy” material feels thin and under-nourished to me; not enough concrete events, or a sense of moment, going down onto the tapes. The promised visit to “unknown endless spaces” never really materialises from these spidery notes, lacking depth and perspective.
Mektoub: 1001 Nocy Paula Bowlesa (NO NUMBER) by Rafał Kołacki is, of all things, a radio play. It uses droney music and field recordings with readings from the work of Paul Bowles. On it, Kołacki aims to express the charismatic nature of this writer and say something about his epic journey to Tangier. We’ve got sounds captured from streets and markets, and (inevitably) the muezzins calling the faithful to prayer, a sound which seems to have appeared on every record made by a European or American in this part of the world, from Muslimgauze to Justin Bennett. One would perhaps hope that Tangier itself is teeming with vitality, or that the story of this unusual beat writer who decided to emigrate there would inspire a bit more interest; instead, Kołacki fails to spark a single moment of excitement across 45 minutes of listless aural tedium.
The three persons behind Deep Fields (ZOHAR 285-2) have spent a lot of time in 2021 and 2022 researching cosmological things, and giving lectures in scientific institutions about outer space, more specifically promulgating information to do with magnetic and acoustic wave phenomena. Calling themselves Voices Of The Cosmos, they’ve now decided to pool their efforts on these nine tracks of sounds, in celebration of the great Copernicus – it’s related to his 550th anniversary. Rafal Iwanski, Wotjek Zieba and Sebastian Soberski appear on the inside panel artwork all wearing identical black shirts with their logo, which may resemble an Egyptian eye of Horus and possibly represent another link to Sun Ra (Copernicus appeared on the cover of The Heliocentric Worlds Of Sun Ra Volume 2). No quasi-scientific lectures appear on the record, but there are plenty of radio telescope sounds hopefully captured in their private observatory, spliced with synths, tone generators, drum machines and effects – producing the sort of identikit electronic drone that this label loves so much. Kinda process-heavy material, but compelling in a low-key way; it may not convey any truths about such things as white dwarfs, electrons, pulsars and sounds of the sun, but I suppose what we’re really hearing is simply cosmic energy transformed into radio. Voices Of The Cosmos might have added more depth and illumination when they delivered their lectures, but they don’t do so here. Sun Ra himself would be asleep by this point; at least he tried to actively engage with his chosen subject matter, effectively making his own mind and body into a radio telescope, and when seized with inspiration from the galaxies, his synths would breathe fire like a supernova. This CD simply emits a faintly warming glow.
I’m feeling more agitated by the music on Learn The Hard Way (ZOHAR 283-2) by Exit Electronics, but I’m not at all proud of that feeling. Justin K Broadrick of Godflesh fame has recently embarked on this solo project and emerged with a souped-up form of power electronics set to punishing beats; apparently he’s trying to distance himself from the “industrial techno” tag associated with his earlier work, unless I’m misunderstanding the finer nuances of the press note. What’s clear is the sheer aggression of the music, where every note, every layer, is beefed up to maximise distortion to create a concrete wodge of industrial blackness – an unbelievably closed-in sensation for the listener. The aggression is further amplified by the horrible track titles – all of them pretty much telling you that you’re completely wrong, your life is hopeless, and you’re going to get beaten up (either by life, or by an abusive partner); all nasty sentiments which are underscored by the use of shouty full capitals…still, full marks to Exit Electronics for coming up with the innovative term “filthstep” to describe this deeply unpleasant assault from his two fists. This record may be a reissue with two extra tracks of something that came out digitally in 2022. If our Polish friends don’t offer him another deal after this knockout punch, I for one might well expect to see him surface next on Cold Spring Records. The usual “strong meat” warning applies; listen with caution.