During the nineteen odd minutes of Because It Speaks, fractured field recordings flicker, and dodgy connections discharge a dark, distorted, buzz. A choir is corrupted, locked in a loop. Caught in a single, cyclical, angelic note. Collectively concocting a collaged, and strange, dense sonic soup. Each added, seemingly abstract, improvised, detail drawing the listener in deeper. When Ian William Craig’s untreated voice finally becomes discernible, it`s suddenly swapped for flashes of alien strings, and symphonic drone. Make no mistake baby, this is a trip – incredibly intoxicating, and a psychedelia of sorts. The brain following, trying to map the mutant sounds, travelling further into its musique concrete maze. Lost, trapped, in its labyrinth, safe though in the knowledge, that like the acid, it will wear off. Cries of imaginary animals suggest something waking, the stir of jungle nightfall, or sunrise. Picture Harry Partch, creator of the Chromelodeon, the Quadrangularis Reversum, and the Zymo-Xyl, or Methedrine Cardinal, Angus MacLise, armed with analogue tapes and digital processors. Jon Hassell`s Vernal Equinox gone totally / completely machine.
Estonian singer / poet, Lauri Sommer, aka Kago, is equally experimental, but possibly more playful, employing his personal “dictaphone shamanism” across seven short pieces that are both joyful and light. Doubling tracking himself, and his wife, and young daughter, reciting ancient, runic folk songs in close harmony, again, with the feel of a field recording. Where the reverb of the room becomes a key component, and other instruments are often only hinted at as extraneous echo. Organ, plucked guitar loops, bowed violin strings, woodwinds, and resultant drones, are set to the rhythm of switches, buttons, being pushed on and off. Suure reede lapsed carries a cavernous, cave-like, ambience, while throughout the “suite” hiss runs like a fresh water stream – so the closing, higher-fi, Uued Vigikad, subsequently comes as a shock. On Leontiine Kirotosk re-tuned bells, gongs, and prayer bowls are transformed into chirrups. Chattering electro.acoustic organisms, recalling, say, Visible Cloaks, and artists that inspired them, such as Carlos Maria Trindade, Nuno Canavarro, and the mercurial Haruomi Hosono. The mix of technology and tradition is also throughly recommended for fans of John Gomez` Outro Tempo compilations, and Suso Saiz` early work.
Ian William Craig & Kago`s Split Series #24 is available directly from Fat Cat.