(Kvitnu / Nexsound / Zeromoon)
A while back Jeff Surak, Andrey Kiritchenko and Jonas Lindgren founded Critikal, a project where one of the members uses materials produced by the others to construct a new work. After Lindgren’s departure, Tobias Astrom and Dmytro Fedorenko joined, the latter being the organizer of the ideas that came to result as “Graphorrea”. The piece is a disquieting tapestry of just anything that can be put on tape, including what Astrom fascinatingly calls “manipulated recordings of long lost cities/memories”. It really sounds like nothing else, never staying in one place; we’re simply not allowed to take a breath. Asymmetrical drum-and-electronic patterns and earth loop-based pulse break the news about the complete loss of logic of “composed” music. Everything is reduced to a succession of acrid particles, bitter realities and hyper-flexible structures, extremely noisy more often than not, still approachable via a condition of mind detachment and, apparently, even connected to a superior scheme of things in determinate spots. A record that requires full concentration, your only chance of catching the revealing particulars, the vital signs of an organism moved by the worms of a dead harmony. That continuous swarming does indeed appear as the energy allowing the quartet to look towards the light at the top of their self-excavated hole, although these premonitions do not foresee any good in that sense. Paradoxically, there seems to be life beyond the post-industrial and dark ambient fences.