Terminal 23 -- THE MELTING
OF ICE ep [Inam Records]
More mysterious noise-drone action from Inam Records,
this time the work of an Athens trio wielding strings, efx, generators,
and homemade electronics, all recorded to two-track. The first track,
"Sort Hagl," is centered around a cranky buzzing drone that
cycles over and over as other noises, humming sounds, and random sonic
violence come and go behind the cyclotroni sound. The cyclotron rhythm
eventually segues into an asthmatic mechanical wheeze that dies away
as the track segues into "Drivis," where the rhythm is not
quite so heated, even though the sound is still rooted in vaguely dissonant
but subdued shards of noise. The final track, "Rod Mane,"
is the quietest of the bunch, with a slow cycling rhythm and ambient
sound pulsing in waves like the ocean tide, a dirge drone that plays
out inexorably over the course of approximately eight minutes, finally
expiring with a brief screech of muted feedback. The trio of drones
work equally well as separate pieces or as one long track, and can be
enjoyed as background noise or with more studied listening. (the
one true dead angel)
Terminal 23 - The Melting of Ice [Inam]
Another winner from Inam. Haunting electronic drone and noise. Tones
pulse and vibrate, swell and dwindle. I find this album really beautiful,
it seems bleak and at the same time uplifting. (kuci
fm)
This is a rather short, sharp shock of a CD: 3 tracks
of garden-variety ambient/noise-art, with that icy, stark, European
soundscape. This Danish combo lays down three tracks on The Melting
of Ice, their 3-track EP for the UK’s Inam Records. Each song seamlessly
segues right into the next, so unless you listen to this every day for
months, you won’t know which track you’re listening except by guessing
or looking at the CD player.
When you take it out of the context of its genre and lay it next to
something that you might hear on some commercial radio station then
you feel thankful that there is this truly “alternative” underground
out there, continuously whipping out new, exciting sounds, musical experimentation
to the Nth degree: everything from samples of “found sounds” - street
noise, incidental music, bits and pieces of “overheard” conversations
or whatnot. They also do a lot of recontextualizing of other parts of
songs, not well-known, easily identifiable songs either, but obscure
notes and measures that were re-worked: maybe slowed down or sped up.
Critics of this style of music, the “hybridization”, the sampling, the
computerized loops and the so-called “loss of humanity” say that all
this sampling and mixing in of scattered noises and beats, etc is a
sign of unoriginality or a sign that the artist is not really making
music, since he’s not coming up with “brand new” notes that get written
down on sheet music paper, so it’s not really a “new song”, just a rehashing
of a bunch of old material, created by others.
But the way to reply to a point of view like that is to show how, even
though the band/artist may not be writing new notes, writing on sheet
music like Beethoven, or Igor Stravinsky, John Cage or the great rock
songwriters like Lou Reed, Neil Young and David Bowie to name a few.
This new form is a different sort of artistry: the talent and creativity
show up in the way that all these tape loops, recorded voices, weird
noises, samples of songs, television/movie dialogue, etc: it may sound
simple, at least at first, but the deeper you get into it and the more
you really think about it there is a lot of work that goes into this
stuff: timing, continuity, originality, innovation, making something
innocuous sound edgy or ominous.
That is the way to go about getting into Terminal 23: don’t prejudge,
don’t come to it with preconceived notions and try not to thing of who
to compare it to right away, if it does sound like someone from the
past, it’ll show up and come to you, rather than you having to figure
out to whom you could compare it. (heathen harvest)
Terminal 23 – The Melting of Ice
Inam Records
Another new limited run EP from Inam Records means another chance to
bask in the glory of disorientation. Terminal 23 are a group from Athens
who appear to do most of their work on self-made electronics, generators,
effects, and software programs. On The Melting of Ice, pulsing drones
slowly compete with sustained drones, all set against cavernous echoes,
phased oscillations, and other found sounds. With assistance from the
title, this noisy piece can be interpreted as a representation of the
natural process of ice melting, a process which constantly leaves behind
a form different than its predecessor. Despite this, the overall tone
has more of an industrial feel than a natural one. Perhaps they mean
to make a link between industrialization and melting ice. Regardless,
this is drone music for the active listener, as a continuum of tones
are visited throughout the 23-minute running time, always complimented
by some other non-drone sound source, whether that be repetitive descending
tones, swooping grand gestures, crumbling electronics, or swirling radio
frequencies. Melting has never been so serious. (adequacy.net)
Another from Inam records, this by Terminal 23: The
Melting of Ice (INAM RECORDS 31), an EP full of sonorous and primordial
droning effects. It sounds such solitary and lonely music that I was
surprised to find a trio of young men from Georgia made this, using
their tone generators, home-made electronics and effects. (sound
projector)
Three moody, biting drones that sound washed out, haunted
in a jaded but approachable way, “the melting of ice” is not so much
about liberation as about a slow but growing change. Not much ice melts
here, though occasionally there is enough of a din made that an avalanche
is threatened.
The three songs build off of the same motif or, rather,
use the same technique throughout, so that each songs can be dissected
on its own, or all three—“ Sort Hagl,” “Drivis” and “Rod Mane”—can be
heard as one long piece. On of the joys of this kind of ambient, with
its mix of electronics, found noises and loops or beats swiped from
other recorded sources, is that there are layers upon layers to explore
if you so chose. If not, then the surface soundscape still has much
to offer in its moody, frigid buzz.
So “the melting of ice” sounds like most ambient music
out there, especially as practiced in the Old World. Then again, sometimes
it doesn’t. Ambient music plays tricks on the ear, and is never completely
what it seems. This effort by Terminal 23 deserves a few repeated spins
so you can figure out your personal verdict. 7/10 -- Mike Wood (22 July,
2009) (digitalindustries )
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