(Tear)

If you are interested in sampladelia, cut’n’paste and plunderphonics – or simply in cleverly designed computer music – then you wouldn’t want to miss this obscure gem. Alvin Curran is one of those composers who find themselves at ease in all settings, perennially in search of new expressive methods while remaining at the forefront of anything avant-garde. Cenk Ergün is a Turkish composer and laptop performer currently based in San Francisco and a frequent collaborator of luminaries such as Fred Frith, Pauline Oliveros, William Winant and Joan Jeanrenaud. “The art of fluke” is presented as “an artful survival through a sequence of coincidences, accidents, unknowns and impossibles”. In other words, this is a complex flow of electroacoustic data, multitudes of episodic manifestations, extemporaneous occurrences, snippets of reality and alluring traits which include most everything that listeners can fantasize (if they’re not exactly normal), collected from a huge assortment of samples masterfully exploited by the duo. Curran and Ergün did a great assemblage of contrasting atmospheres and morphing ambiences, alternating heterogeneous obsessions with mechanical appliances and assorted animalisms. Not only schizophrenia, though, as we’re often furnished with precious instants of reflection (lasting more or less two seconds). Then it’s back to an underworld where composite monsters made of electronic loops, Hip-Hop and a string quartet, and whose rhythmical walk is slanted as a single-legged man, fence us into territories where losing one’s reason would be considered acceptable. Altered pitches, sped-up repetitions and amorphous patchworks of hard core movies, slaughtered lambs, yodel, Sardinian chants and martial choirs might convince that Dante’s Inferno sounds just like that. An excellent, highly stimulating record; those who loved Forch’s “Spin networks” (on Evan Parker’s Psi) will probably appreciate this, too.

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