“Never So Alone” reviewed by John Dombroski

Never So Alone
(A personal review from John Dombroskij to Simon Whetham, published with John’s kind permission)

I listened to your album – Never So Alone – a lot. And it is, of course, brilliant. I feel the energy you put into it – And I’m beginning to empathize with what might have been behind your title choices and intuitive sonic decisions. I told you I would give a review of it, so here it is: track, by track (sort of)… if you’d like to read… (I apologize in advance if it’s too much)…

I really like the delicate mid-high frequency rattling / scraping in back of my head during the first half of the first track – this amplifies the mood and tension suggested by the tones and the repetitive low undulating tone. Second half, is like an airplane taking off in slow motion under water – the consuming weight of progress – steady, enveloping, force, as speed and intensity increase. and the emptiness,

I’ve found that I enjoy listening to your music (and most music) in public places, or with the window open. The connection and intermixing of the ephemeral and the recorded sounds provide me the ability to directly apply the feeling of the music to my experience of life at that moment, and I’m no longer just listening but – feeling – it.

Track 2: this metallic lo-mid freq sound is really fucking awesome. after a bit, it becomes almost a little too heavy on those mid frequencies, but you fade it away at just the right time, and give us a bit of bass. and I love the light tin sounds. The stereo out-of-phase effect is really nice (when the metallic tones vibrato in and out of sync). The harmonic changes in the lead sound vaguely remind me of Colin Stetson’s work. — gosh, those heavy-reverb distant wind chimes are so nice right there at the end.

This first interlude – wind chimes of the gods – or demons – it all feels like a stormy rainy night where shadows move and nothing seems quite real, or too real, and I wonder when I’ll wake. Dynamics, man – thanks for making use of ’em. quiet / loud… That’s a crazy escalator, too (escalator, or baggage-claim)… I found a similar sound in the airport in Atlanta, Georgia.

What a beautiful rhythm, now… rain on aluminum. and as the tones return, and the high frequency tapping enters, I feel like you’re leading me elsewhere, yet, it’s a very similar headspace. lots of dwelling on these difficult places – frustration, too.

The music has a somewhat narrative quality, which I like – I might venture to assert that it seems almost autobiographical, like an abstract-impressionist painting of a time, place, mood.

I love the timbre of this radio static…or is it rain on an umbrella, yes…? beautiful.

and your spacing, the silence in between each movement/piece, is well done. time to breathe is very important. I feel as if I might be sick, or overwhelmed if you kept on from one to the next to the next, so fast… right amount of spacing, definitely.

mmm… this lo frequency is so nice, and when it starts wobbling left to right and back… love it. those small, quiet sounds really help me submerge myself in the sub tones – give me something to focus on as the overwhelming bass envelops and moves through me… someday, I will listen to this in a big, quiet, room, with great speaker monitors… yes, that needs to happen. would you be willing to reveal how you went about making this low frequency? I always wonder how such sounds originate – they are so nice – and this one, the way it undulates is brilliant – soothing. after the last bit, atonal, the resurgence of a melodic / tonal chime sound is very refreshing, along with the metallic scraping.

I’m not too crazy about the chorus-effected tones when the cello is playing in background in track 5, though with a title like “A Little Faith” the timbre of the tones evokes images of light shining through, a post-apocalyptic, morose, hopeful, pleading, searching, feeling.

OH damn you! Certainly woke me up with the start of this interlude recording… but in a good way. yeah! cold water and wind – we’re in it for the long haul, buckle down and full sail ahead! I really love this piece. the moment is brief, and so great. it’s so intense – reminds me of previews I’ve seen for this documentary called “LEVIATHAN”. And then we move into the murky depths… I feel like a lot of this album has to do with water – change – tumultuous change, at that. Like you mentioned earlier – just throwing yourself into the sea and not knowing where you’ll come out. wow – a car horn sounded briefly outside, right when the audial swell of track 6 ended – the beautiful synchronicity!

I love this wash of revolving tonal sound that comes in the beginning of “Accentuate…” – Like that moment after you’ve hit your head, hard, and you’re swimming for a moment, dazed.

You have nice timing with the lower frequency swells, this makes the higher frequencies consuming, but not overwhelming. I like the chord changes too. ah, yes, underwater in the small ebb of waves… what a nice place to take us after all that heavy stuff. I really like the mastering on this recording – the low bassy resonation of the baot, and the high freq elements in the water turbulence… and a well-timed slow decrescendo to the end. well done, Simon. I feel great after listening. Thank You.

“Queendom Maybe Rise” reviewed by Goûte Mes Disques

Queendom Maybe Rise
Ca faisait longtemps qu’on avait plus eu de nouvelles ni de Crónica, ni de Marc Behrens. Et dans les deux cas, ça nous a méchamment manqué. Crónica parce que c’est l’un des dix meilleurs pourvoyeurs de sound-design, et Marc Behrens parce que son Sleppet (également sur Crónica) nous avait mis un grand coup de latte dans la gueule.

Et force est de constater que son retour aux affaires est une véritable réussite. Mieux même, le titre d’ouverture est officiellement une bombe (on est quand même loin du nouveau Timberlake, on vous rassure), qui impose plus de quarante minutes d’atmosphère froide, spatiale et sans oxygène. Un drone strident qui se ballade en onde sinusoïdale, ponctué par des souffles, des traquenards signalétiques et des ruptures qui t’ouvrent l’oreille en deux. « Maybe Rise » est un titre qui appelle sans cesse le vide, qui épure tout ce qui passe à proximité, qui rend tout noir, clinique et parfait. C’est tellement de la science-fiction qu’on s’étonne d’entendre ci et là du field recording clairement bucolique, avant que le tout magnétique ne reprenne le dessus.

« Queendom » a beau être un peu en dessous – mais comment rivaliser avec une pièce de cette longueur et de cette intensité – on tient avec Queendom Maybe Rise une véritable démonstration de sound-scaping, magnifique d’espaces habités et de confiance en la technologie.

via Goûte Mes Disques

“Queendom Maybe Rise” reviewed by Axess Code

Queendom Maybe Rise
J’aperçois bientôt le ciel vomir la pluie, entre deux sifflements écrasants et sourds. Où suis-je encore ? Le ventre imposant d’un avion me répond à son passage : un terrain vague près d’une grille, au bout d’une piste bitumée. Un aéroport. Et cette douleur terrible qui prend au visage alors que le gravier me parcourt l’épine dorsale comme des centaines d’aiguilles. Je ne sens déjà plus mes jambes, et l’eau qui martèle ma bouche s’accompagne bientôt du goût férugineux du sang.

Je ne me souviens de rien.

Le sol chaud et poreux laisse s’évaporer des silhouettes qui dansent aléatoirement pour bientôt se confondre avec le plafond nocturne dans une masse violacée. Parmi celles-ci se détache une forme sombre qui semble être une personne. Une femme. Elle s’approche alors que le bruissement des alentours laisse place doucement au chant d’oiseaux inconnus ; la belle joint les mains sur ses genoux avant de s’accroupir légèrement vers le sol. Elle m’observe patiemment comme un enfant le ferait face au cadavre d’un oiseau, puis se lance :

« Je t’ai attendu bien longtemps mon ami. J’ai failli perdre la tête pour avoir défendu la fille d’un roi, il semble que tu as failli perdre la vie pour avoir défendu ton honneur. Nous ne sommes pas si différents après tout, si j’écarte tes erreurs de jugement. »

Elle se met à rire. Elle rit, cette garce. Puis reprend :

« Nous devons toujours combattre un monstre invisible, il dort dans l’âme de chaque homme et n’attend que de s’éveiller pour lui siffler le doute et le dégoût… Mais ça, tu dois déjà l’avoir appris pour que je te trouve dans un état pareil. Regarde-toi.

Tu sais, l’homme possède cette pulsion de violence en lui par essence, il est comme ça. Il a appris à dominer ses semblables par la punition et le châtiment, parce qu’il est paranoïaque, craintif et haineux. N’était-il donc pas naturel qu’il fasse un dieu à son image, qu’il forge les mythes fondateurs de sa culture dans un bain de souffrance cyclique, puisqu’il n’y a que cela qu’il comprenne pour évoluer parmi les siens ?

Quel bon Dieu aimant son sujet voudrait l’élever en le punissant dans la douleur ? Laisse-moi te dire : Dieu est mauvais parce que l’homme est mauvais, sublimé dans l’enveloppe d’un protecteur pour soumettre ses enfants et aimer ses ennemis, nous lui accordons ces travers. L’individu s’accroche à son fantasme car il n’admet pas son inexistence face à l’Univers, son statut d’être fini et périssable. C’est une blessure insupportable pour son amour-propre.

Voilà pourquoi Dieu n’est pas là quand tu as besoin de lui. À vrai dire il ne t’a pas abandonné, il ne t’a même jamais reconnu, puisque personne ici n’a de réponse à te fournir sur la légitimité de ton existence. Tu devras le découvrir seul.

Si tu peux survivre à la solitude, à l’acceptation de l’ennui, au savoir de l’éphémère de ton être, alors enfin tu pourras survivre à tout. Et enfin tu seras immortel à ta façon, et tu te satisferas d’être dorénavant plus que le fruit d’une simple probabilité mathématique puisque tu connaîtras l’essence même du bonheur. Voici la béquille de tes jours prochains. Viens avec moi à présent si tu peux te lever… ouch tu pèses lourd dis-donc ! »

Le temps s’était soudainement figé alors qu’elle levait la main pour me hisser du sol, et nous nous baladions bientôt librement entre les éléments flottants. Est-ce une illusion ? Je suis prêt à y adhérer, à croire que nous puissions nous soustraire au monde l’espace d’un instant, mais les flammes immobiles des réverbères continuent de baigner mon visage d’une chaleur douce, l’air sentait encore le pollen de cyprès et le goudron moite. Quelque chose ne colle pas là-dedans.

« Qui es-tu ? demandai-je.
On me donne plusieurs noms : Georges, Ashur, Marduk… on m’a déjà sacré Saint une fois, t’étais pas né… aujourd’hui je suis Toi. Maintenant remue-toi un peu. J’ai une requête à te soumettre mais on en parlera en chemin. Nous sommes déjà en retard. »

Des cheveux humides mi-longs lui collaient au front. Ils avaient une odeur étrange, mêlée d’un parfum bon marché et de plastique, et je remarquai à son bras nonchalant un sac d’où dépassait ce qui semble être un revolver. Sa veste en cuir gris laisse également découvrir une chemise mal boutonnée. Elle était belle mais dégageait une aura effrayante. Alors c’est à ça que les divinités ressemblent ?

via AxessCode

“eins bis sechzehn” reviewed by Neural

eins bis sechzehn
A hotel in ruins, burdened with memories and environments evocative of fascinating decadence. Here are spaces that became uninhabitable, now only remotely reminiscent of the splendour of the 60s through 80s, during which period the tourist industry embraced an approach that leaned on a depersonalized and “modernist” sensibility. The location is, however, more than just a pile of rubble, re-appropriated by weeds, animals and insects. The spaces still “breath” and screech and murmur, appearing to persist as an independent entity. In Eins Bis Sechzehn Ephraim Wegner and Julia Weinmann present a work that transforms the surroundings through photos and live recordings, weaving together identities and relationships between the transitory groups of people who stayed there. In this sense the artist is not anymore a simple on-site correspondent limited to recording the ‘actuality’ of the sights and sounds of a particular moment in time. Some recordings have been treated in post-production with FTT techniques (Fast Fourier Transform) and granular synthesis. Finally, a special mention should go to Miguel Carvalhais for the highly calibrated mastering and to Clovis Vallois for the packaging; a minimal and refined 6” box, which includes a number of very high quality photographic images. Aurelio Cianciotta

via Neural

New release: “Half-Life, Still Life” by @c

Half-Life, Still Life
Crónica is proud to announce a new release by @c, “Half-Life, Still Life”, collecting three pieces composed over the span of as many years by Pedro Tudela and Miguel Carvalhais. “Half-Life, Still Life” is now available as a free download directly from Crónica or from Bandcamp in a variety of formats.


“82” was initially composed in Ljubljana during a residency promoted by MoTA – Museum of Transitory Art. It was premiered in the Sonica:Post festival at the Galerija Jacopič on 25 June 2009 and further developed until 2011. The stereo version included in this release was created from a 4-channel original.


“83” was commissioned by Marcus Gammel, composed from the Ljubljana sessions and premiered on Deutschlandradio Kultur, Hörspiel/Klangkunst in late 2009.


“84” was premiered at Gear (Covilhã) and developed over performances at Museu de Serralves (Porto), Sonicscope (Teatro Maria Matos, Lisboa), Next Festival (A4, Bratislava), Electric Spring (University of Huddersfield) and Sonores (Fábrica ASA, Guimarães) from 2010 to 2012. The stereo version included in this release was created from a 4-channel original.

“Half-Life, Still Life” was composed, recorded and mastered by Miguel Carvalhais and Pedro Tudela in Ljubljana, Porto and Furnas, from 2009 to 2012 with collaborations by Gustavo Costa (percussion in 82 and 84), Jonathan Uliel Saldanha (percussion in 84), and Neja Tomšič (voice in 82). The cover photo is of Golden Skull by Júlio Dolbeth, photographed by Colönia.

You can download “Half-Life, Still Life” as AIFF or MP3 files directly from Crónica and free of charge. Donations are very welcome! :)

“Never So Alone” reviewed by Chain D.L.K.

Never So Alone
I’m pretty sure that the great majority of people, who experienced jams when the soot from the notorious elfin barbecue inside Icelandic volcano with unpronounceable name Eyjafjallajökull in February and March 2010, countered with a fine selection of cuss words and complaints against powerless air company’s ground crews and imaginary underground deities or devils, who caused the closing of European airspace. The skittish English sound-artist Simon Whetham, compelled to outstay his stay in Lisbon for the above-mentioned occurence, preferred to explore the fascinating Portuguese capital city and surrounding countryside in order to grab sounds and match them with his own feelings by his paraphernalia of microphones he kept in his luggage together with razors, deodorant, socks and underwear, so that he started to collect sound material by means of a Sennheiser shotgun microphone, a pair of Tram lavalier mics, contact microphones, hydrophones, an electromagnetic coil transducer and a radio receiver. Simon’s decision to turn hassles into a creative opportunity generated this interesting album where the reference to experienced loneliness in the title “Never So Alone” should not be interpreted as a negative factor, but as an essential condision for the creation of this work: the electric flurries on creaks, tweets, trampling and crumpling sounds of the initial track “Inertia, Rising” immediately imbibes the sonic space by evoking a certain sense of isolated dismay of the receiver, whose amplified perception acts like an imaginary sentient marble which rolls on metallic smooth surfaces by creating occasional dissonances and blurring with other external resonances on “A Metallic Aftertaste” before the first interlude “The Suspension of Time”, where a web of tintinnabulations gets gradually overshadowed by rasps, amplified sinister echoes and plastic rubbing from recesses of material world. The regular stepping on planking level and trickles over flowing streams of spooky interferences on the following “Shifting” is almost cathartic, while the membrane between inner and outer world seems to thin and disappear in the following “A little Faith”, where any stimulations from the surrounding environment look like moving inside streams of bodily fluids. Whereas the second interlude, “Lifesigns/Ashcloud”, refracts urban traffic, the high-spirited chit chat of a Portuguese woman, distant playing kids and other resonating plaster casts from lively settings, immersed in a volatile sonic wave, look like unexpected appearances on a scuba mask on the final “Accentuate the Positive”. Vito Camarretta

via Chain D.L.K.

“Queendom Maybe Rise” reviewed by RNE3

Queendom Maybe Rise
Hace tiempo que no escuchábamos un larga duración de Marc Behrens, así que estamos expectantes. “Queendom Maybe Rise” es un disco de dos piezas, una lo suficiente larga para ser un álbum en sí mismo y que responde a la segunda parte de su título: “Maybe Rise” y una segunda pieza menor, “Queendom”, cuya naturaleza es completamente distinta. Las dos caras de este mismo disco, parecen no relacionarse muy bien, sin embargo, que las dos compartan un mismo título es un extra para los fans de Beherens. “Maybe Rise” es el punto de entrada claro para el disco, una mediación reflexiva con infinitud de contrastes entre los elementos naturales y humanos en la selva costera, mesetas e interior Tropical de North Queensland en Australia. “Queendom” en cambio, es una bestia diferente, grabado para la ceremonia de inauguración de un consulado alemán y compuesto por capas con la voz de Yôko Higashi.

“Never So Alone” reviewed by Rif Raf

Never So Alone
Toujours du côté de Porto et de Lisbonne, SIMON WHETHAM a un jour profité des effets secondaires (un vol annulé) du volcan islandais en éruption pour se balader dans la capitale portugaise et ses alentours – ça se nomme ‘Never So Alone’. De retour à la maison, il a intégré ses field recordings dans un minimalisme ambient qui aurait gagné à davantage de concision. Non que les échos étrangement calmes soient mal torchés, juste qu’en des circonstances similaires, on a déjà entendu bien plus passionnant du côté de Chris Watson, Jana Winderen ou Thomas Köner. Fabrice Vanoverberg