With this latest work of dark ambience comes an interesting story of Finnish collaboration and recycling. While accessible on bandcamp, the principal format of this production is cassette tape. But this is no mass production exercise as Mikko Polus, a music writer and friend of Kenneth Kovasin, the experienced sound artist behind [ówt krì] and this album, has spent his time visiting charity shops and picking up old C60 cassettes, which he has recycled and dubbed with [ówt krì]’s latest work. I learnt about this from the description when I first became aware of the album. One of the things which hit me at that point, apart from my interest in the musical output, was the sleeve art. The responsible party for this striking artwork is Jan Forsman, a painter and also the sound artist behind Pigments.

Onto the music itself, Kenneth tells us that “technically I recorded it (Parasitic Symbiosis) as different parts with some reoccurring motifs, and weaved it together into one dark package”. Thematically, the title relates to the way in which humans treat nature, animals and other humans” but I’ve heard enough of his work and of sound art in general to know it’s the sounds which fuel our imagination and those images that the artist prompts us to conceptualize.

Dark and melancholic waves pass by slowly. The lingering drone-like sound has a symphonic aura. There’s a suggestion of bird sounds, seagulls maybe, and maybe humans but these sounds are distant and far away from the sweeping waves which quietly dominate the sad and cinematic soundscape. It’s interesting that the artwork shows a verdant scene. This is a scene from the voids of nature, not as colourful as the portrayal of the artwork. As ever with [ówt krì] this is all on a higher, cosmic level. Within the loops are nature’s forceful cycle, echoing and sounding like a cry or maybe a condemnation. It’s mesmerising. The whistles and pulses are whale-like and distant. The overriding and prolonged deep waves give off a greater air of tragedy and isolation than I can remember from [ówt krì]. A rumbling sound presents a threat. Nature in the form of the music continues its patient and sombre course. Those ephemeral sounds of ghostly beings continue to haunt us and taunt us as they drift and seem powerless in the face of the deep and cavernous waves. It’s humbling. The echoing cries suggest life of a sort but all the while the drifting and slowly shifting monolith continues on its way, intensifying as it feels necessary, marked by the sweeping tone and standing at the forefront of this gloomy world.

Such is the subtlety of movement and nuance, it’s almost as if nothing is happening as we drift away dreamily. Shapes change slowly in this strange spiritual world. The dominant sound drone is like a slow-moving cloud, to which the responses are like despairing gestures or the weak half measure of reaching out to breathe before regression takes place. “Parasitic Symbiosis” is very deep, deeper than normal from [ówt krì] I’d say, which interesting as it is I found made it hard to swallow. It represents enormity and the calm force of nature, but in a much darker and gloomier way than the cover art would suggest.

(7/10 Andrew Doherty)

https://www.facebook.com/owtkri

https://owtkri.bandcamp.com/album/parasitic-symbiosis-zombie006

http://www.janforsman.com