(The Helen Scarsdale Agency)

It took several years for Jim Haynes to fully develop this gathering of “mangled field recordings and droning techniques perched at the allegorical intersection of electromagnetic landscapes and meteorological phenomena”. The final outcome is a long haunting piece whose effect is often stunning. The first 20 minutes comprise a background urban activity that quite rapidly mounts to a distressing cataleptic mayhem, a distant guerilla heard from a hilltop with hands covering the ears in terror. Then the sonic mass becomes a meagre, bewitching loop that, in its frequency blur, is associable to some of Richard Chartier’s work but with a little more underground organic activity. The comparisons with William Basinski and Hafler Trio read in the press release are nowhere to be found as far as I can hear. Just before the halfway point, an imageless suffocated clangour shifts the focus on an illuminated schizophrenia, with sudden alterations of the mix creating a sense of harrowing instability, like a badly tuned radio transmitting alien bulletins. Inescapably, these modifications gain a repercussive energy on the whole, forcing us to disregard the pain and be wide-eyed testimonies of the quick decomposition of a ruthless entity. Blistering distortions introduce us to the final section, where a kind of metastatic quietness shrouds our uneasy feeling in a splendidly suggestive recollection of previous existences. It’s the worthy closure of a well devised, enthralling record.

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