(The Helen Scarsdale Agency)
Lustmord. Zoviet France. Christoph Heemann. None of the above. This is my head’s train of thoughts while trying to (stupidly) associate this creation to something I know; the fact is, Matt Waldron’s music emerges with a personality that’s strong and incomparable. His methods in “Ozeanische Gefühle” are nearer to acousmatics than to droning soundscapes: in fact, when Matt lulls you into repetition, then he adds some dirty string plucking; or, in between powerful dramatic shots of contemporary sapience, he gives you distant mantras of frogs and maybe a distorted rotation of a classical orchestra. Then again, somehow a piping choir emerges from a tense discordance of unspecified indetermination. For sure you can’t expect the obvious from Irr. App. (Ext.); his music is made of reversible directions and non-volatile substance – fragments of human dedication amidst articulated hybrids of strange distillates.