jueves, 8 de diciembre de 2011

"La imposibilidad de tu nombre" by Peregrino soon at Ahora Eterno

A record inspired by Neoplatonism. The absloute and the silence. Lines of Angelus Silesius and the pseudo Areopagita guides to Peregrino. Piano and rhodes overlays.

"Bells" reviewed by Beach Sloth

Hiroki Sasajima – Bells 7.2

"Bells” is an amplified form of life. All those tiny, almost insignificant noises you hear in your daily life are raised to a near-obscene volume. This is a giant sea of sound. Only the guitar reminds you that this is a composition, as its ambient quality makes the sound lean towards field recordings. Hiroki Sasajima allows the recording to evolve naturally, showing off the splendor and oftentimes elegance of the sound itself.

The transitions from one sound to the next are extraordinarily gradual. Eventually the amount of underlying tension breaks into elegant passages, such as the period around the ten minute mark where the background noises are blocked out for a vaguely classical drone. I’m heavily reminded of dark, isolationist work such as Illusion of Safety’s more recent work. “Bells” never gets outright violent or noisy, but the threat always exists for such an explosion of sound.

Around the twenty minute mark Bells gets tender. Tones slowly relax. Background noises become prevalent once more. Everything appears to slow down, to drop in intensity before the loud ending coda. What ends this album is a vibrating, near gong-like sound which sort of shocked me out of the complacency of the ten minutes of bliss.

Hiroki has an album which spans several different moods: from surreal to tense to mellow to an ending shock. Considering its short length and gradual passage (the album does move slowly) this is quite an accomplishment. “Bells” is best when played loud.

miércoles, 7 de diciembre de 2011

A review from ATTN:Magazine

Review: Hiroki Sasajima – Bells

Drones and tones are coaxed out of the rustle of field recordings in this 36-minute piece on Ahora Eterno

As the blur of tones mutates and blends between harmonic shapes, Bells changes from billowy ambient clouds into restless storms of noise, and then on into turbulent hums of microphone feedback. The presence of sound is a constant, but the atmosphere is not; one thing Sasajima accomplishes very effectively is the reconstruction of one landscape to form a juxtaposing one, and this 36-minute track is capable of feeling like music-centric drone at one moment and a toneless stretch of field recording the next.

Although some states are infinitely more intriguing than others. The combination of lo-fi crackles, phantom music boxes and deeply resonant drones during the first few minutes is a marvellous highpoint, only properly equalled by the rustles and soft murmurs that linger awkwardly at around the 25-minute mark. In contrast, the more explicitly “musical” sections (say, around 10 minutes in) break away into clichéd ambient harmonies, leaving Bells to gradually dissolve colourlessly into the air.

In fact, Sasajima seems to weaken once his stream of ambience rises into the higher frequencies. There’s a sense of resolve and freedom during these moments that renders the music without purpose, and Bells is at its most compelling when it rumbles and surges as though constantly fighting off the forces of gravity and silence. It’s here that the piece finds life and raison d’etre within the struggle and opposition.

ATTn: Magazine