(Un)heard in November: 'A doubled-headed debut dildo'

Each month, in the (Un)heard series, I present extraordinary sounds that do not go unnoticed and unsung. In this November edition: Jacob Kirkegaard, Oren Ambarchi, Glice and N.M.O.

Jacob Kirkegaard - Munk

(Cassette, Phinery Tapes)
Danish sound artist Jacob Kirkegaard investigates the impact of sound resonance on our ears as well as the rest of the body. Direct, intimate contact through sound is invariably central to Kirkegaard's work. With 'Labyrinthitis' the tiny bones in the inner ear itself vibrate, producing tones that you hear. The key question in that work is whether you hear Kirkegaard or your own body. Extremely skilfully, Kirkegaard resolves even that distinction and then the two sources of sound blend symphonically.

His 'Four Rooms' explores the unreal resonances of literally as good as lifeless, silent witnesses: buildings in the uninhabitable zone around the Chernobyl nuclear power plant. Kirkegaard also shot in nature: from creaking glaciers to deafening geysers and raging desert sands.

On 'Munk', the Dane shows a less academic side than we know from him. He makes loops Of field recordings made in Thailand. Monk chants reverberate in repetition upon repetition. No Alvin Lucier-like reduction as heard in 'Four Rooms'; no filtering back to the basic resonances of space.

Kirkegaard explores the building of the monk's body and the temple in which he prays through an ingenious interplay between the proximity of the singing voice and the fleeting, brief echo that fills the space. Repetitions involuntarily cause the frontal voice to let go, looking for sonic footing on what can be heard more and beyond. This seems little, but gradually your ear appears to become more central to the reflections and other ambient sounds.

Again in a dialogue between the physical action (directionality, filtering) of sound source versus ear and, on the other hand, the composed reality that Kirkegaard presents as simple and logical, extremely musical sound art emerges, pointing to possibilities in the field of sound exploration of which 'Munk' is also only just a very first beginning.

Oren Ambarchi - Hubris

(LP/CD, Editions MEGO)
Relentlessly, without ceasing, through. Oren Ambarchi continues the line he began to draw with 'Sagittarian Domain' from 2012 and that two years later 'Quixotism' yielded, by. The Australian is joined by Mark Fell and Will Guthrie, Jim O'Rourke, Ricardo Villalobos and many others. Formed krautrock and techno still important cornerstones of the said records, on 'Hubris' choose Ambarchi&co for a acquit that lies on the sheet of the new wave and disco. A motorik-beat is never far away, but in the wave of muted guitars, a drive linea recta towards more exuberant dance-floor action effortlessly.

Hurdy gurdy-like overtones provide a swaying drone and Jim O'Rourke pulls open the disco skies with a jubilant guitar synth solo. And if you're just sitting all the way up Cloud Nine in wavy, minimal disco atmospheres, Mark Fell comes up to deliver a bunch of firm taps with crunching electronic percussion.

Ambarchi brought another necessary noise in an otherwise savvy interplay between largely free guitar and drumming. The b-side of 'Hubris' leaves grinding and picks up the thread of flowing funk with Villalobos on electronics and Talia plus Guthrie at the drums. That pulls Ambarchi through towards the night's darker moments, when the dance floor is packed with sweaty bodies.

Ecstasy yawns for minutes through chinks that at last cease their resistance and burst open. Exasperated, Ambarchi and his many companions race to a finish line. This will seemingly naturally turn out to be just the prelude to a hearty after-party. It won't be easy to bring the company together in a meaningful live formation, but Dekmantel's programmers should enjoy this....

Glice - Fleisch II

(Cassette, Narrominded)
Amsterdam-based duo Glice consists of Ruben Braeken and Melle Kromhout. The gentlemen recently played at the Popronde. However, you will find few acts less 'pop' than Glice. Armed with a hefty battery of electronics with fearsome cables connecting synthesisers, effects and mixing consoles, the two specialise in experimental noise. Each concert is also a true voyage of discovery for the men themselves.

Their sound research focuses on an uncertain essentialism that could be found in pure sound. In this, there seems little room for standard musical parameters. Benchmarks are seemingly wasted on Glice; loose screws all the more so.

With 'Fleisch II' Glice presents an amalgam that grinds and cracks, roars and rages. Order, calm and regularity are missing. This sound is dirty, distorted and vile. Free it is too, as in: a futuristic retelling of the lines deployed by Marinetti & co - an open-ended assignment. Glice plays the intona rumori anno now and outlines the symphony of the day after tomorrow. The listener becomes in media res thrown into a maelstrom that knows only just about control.

It lies in the brilliance of Braeken and Kromhout, who really know how to deal with timbre, phrasing and dynamics. They hit the nail on the head without a velvet touch; here the master rules with the hammer.

N.M.O. - Northern Mediterranean Organisation / Numerous Miscommunications Occur

(2LP, Diagonal)
March music for the Berghain, with more than a little Fluxus Techno feel; with that comes drill sergeant duo N.M.O. come up with this debut album released by Diagonal, the label of brilliant prodigy Powell. "Bonkers" they write themselves. Indeed: pleasantly deranged and jingily irritating too. Thus, the record features such short tunes as locked grooves, hidden among the tracks. Because it can be done.

N.M.O. marches through with seven-mile boots and a sexy catwalk walk wonky techno, no-wave avant-rock, crackling acid and insane Fluxus. Rave is stripped to the bone, given a new suit, salutes and plunges off the cliff onto the battlefield like a lemming. Lorenzo Senni would stand by and watch amused: if you run this in your aerobics class, limbs are bound to fly around in convulsions.

The beat plops awkwardly pneumatic and what should pass for melody seems borrowed from Felix Kubin's library. It makes no sense at all and fits like the running gear of a top watch. Primitive and extremely progressive; ruthlessly strict and cheerfully licentious; IDM for the brain and fodder for the feet. A moshpit at the disco, that is. "Hot and sweaty," states Diagonal, "mastered for optimal fitness. A doubled-headed debut dildo". Following Beuys' lead, let's add: "Yes Yes Yes Yes No No No", with a big grin.