One of two releases from the Kirigirisu Recordings label in Japan received on 14 March 2024 is Magnetic Mud (kgr041), by Turmeric Acid. Just 21:31 mins of extremely odd sound on this CDR, made with “tapes, popping candy, and stones”. This might be Michał Fundowicz who has a Polish name, but his record label Czaszka (Rec.) is based in Edinburgh, where this item was recorded in 2023 by fellow Pole Kamil Kowalczyk, who surfaces here now and again since he won us over in 2011 with Aurora.
Well, Magnetic Mud is an evocative phrase which clearly suggests that Mr Acid is doing something quite unorthodox with magnetic tapes, either through his techniques which could be said to result in a muddy swamp on the finished results, or perhaps by burying his tapes in a swamp or mud-puddle, an approach which might be welcomed by Mark Vernon who has also buried tapes in the earth. On the other hand, this is just as likely to represent some new outcropping or sub-species of table-top improvisation made with unusual objects, which has a long pedigree if you count people like Adam Bohman and Chris Cutler or Damian Biscgilia, and which had a brief flowering on London stages as I vaguely recall. However, Turmeric Acid opens up his chest cavity and flings wide his barnstaples in order to admit a wide array of sounds, including documentary recordings filched from the street, until what starts out as an enclosed, muffled, self-contained and incomprehensible bit of digital-cruncho malarkey turns into an overheard conversation spliced with weird birdsong and church bells, made even more bizarre by tape-wobble and distortion effects. He’s so playful he verges on being comical, but I’m getting a lot of mileage out of this generous and warm-bakery approach to polyphonic inclusiveness.
Turmeric Acid feels like the kind of guy who would open a pop-up shop at the drop of a hat, even in a place where he’s guaranteed to get no customers, like the middle of a duckpond or boating lake. To those adventurous enough to enter his shop, he instantly gives a free gift, just for the joy of being alive. His other record label (also in Edinburgh) is Molt Fluid, which sounds like a fancy way of saying “scotch whiskey”, and only releases cassettes with black and white covers. Great!
Also in the above package from Neil Debnam is Poldertocht (kgr040), a nifty droning item made by [Glen] Steenkist and [David] Colohan, seemingly a Belgian and Irish duo who may have recorded their separate parts in their homelands. The shruti box and electronic tanpura suggest an oriental flavour, but the voice and viola are creating musical intervals that are decidedly Celtic in nature. The Poldertocht is also the name of a popular Dutch walking tour, where you can see some lovely Netherlandish scenery along the borders of this low-lying tract of land. While the music on this 30:05 min. CDR is less “eventful” than the riddle-me-this festival of indoor fireworks noted above, the music has a clarity and simplicity that is delicately poised, and despite the large number of instruments used to create it, it maintains this balance without turning into the sort of “magnetic mud” to which Fundowicz is evidently drawn. The journey towards a semi-celestial epiphany is carefully managed, as the track accumulates more layers and imperceptibly shifts itself into angelic territory. Very good.