Experimental soundscapes and drone here from this collaboration borne out of that pesky pandemic. Autaar is German artist Mark Lindhout and 404 is likeminded Dutchman Joost Van Ophem. The title of the release translates to ‘nipped in the bud’ and the music reflects the time of uncertainty and limitations that drove us all to the brink of madness in a world that unexpectedly turned very isolated. There is a lot more information and we are told that a single press release is simply not enough to contain the background of this work. We are kindly directed towards a page (see below) with deeper meaning of the 6 tracks here. Naturally, although helpful for those wanting to fully immerse themselves in the narration, it can be a distraction to someone reviewing the material and I have avoided this thus far, wanting to project the feelings that I am finding in the work in front of me.
After a strange bleep suggesting some sort of malfunction M.S.I. rumbles into life with the sound of brooding drone and ambient noise whilst some sporadic low toned throat chanting dwells out the ether. Although calming it also sets slightly on edge with a feeling of foreboding as other strange frequencies and synthesized warbling gradually expand in the background. Curiouser and curiouser, we feel on the edge of something and about to plummet down a rabbit hole. Perhaps escape into another world from a life that has become monotonous and repetitive is what we are on the brink of before static bristles and we move onto the next segment ‘Heroes Anti-Heroes.’ What sounds like a recorded voice is heard but is it human comfort which we are so longing for or is it coming from machinery which is all we have to gain solace from? Sounds flutter sounding like alien communications from outer space, life is somewhere but it could be a million miles away. Teeth are grinding for all that is missing, and as sharper sounds bristle the panic attack one has been holding at bay till now boils over with the somewhat self-explanatory ‘Living Apart, Together.’ Ambience is dashed away by an abrasive short track of attacking blackened guitar riffs and harsh vocals. But it is distant still, sounding like a rehearsal somewhere outside your reach but one that jolts back to your own stifling claustrophobia. Suddenly it downs tools, the ending as abrasive as an electrical jolt.
We drift back into ‘Finely Tuned Abandonment’ and guitar twangs over an otherwise desolate soundscape. It draws you back to look outside your window, nothing is there but with a slightly bluesy lick you could easily imagine a tumbleweed rolling by. Strange pulses and bass heavy tones have you looking cautiously at the skies. There is something out there but it is not necessarily of this earth. It builds into a noisier canvas complete with a kind of Theremin sounding b-movie stridency. Have saucers just landed or is our isolationist just escaping into a projected Ed Wood film? The last couple of track titles are in Dutch and appear to translate into ‘Henk made me buy crypto’ and ‘Waiting for my extra-sharp grilled cheese sandwich.’ Ok that’s strange even by these out-there standards. The first of these is a slow boinging space-hopper sound bouncing up and down slowly over a 6-minute running time as other strange sounds unspool like a defragmenting mind around it. Perhaps due to the fact it’s lunchtime as I am writing I can’t get the thought of a sizzling cheese sandwich on the griddle steaming and sizzling as the noise suggests out of my head now. Space and Kraut rock sonics sprawl out during this and a guitar is twanged, its all very strange and somewhat disorientating.
Well, this certainly took me places over its 33-minute running time, possibly not the right ones but I guess without studying the suggested page and getting spoilers this was always going to be a cryptic experience. Thankfully it is one that I quite enjoyed and shall now go and check for further illumination; perhaps whilst getting a cheese sandwich.
(7/10 Pete Woods)
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