#compulsory creativity

According to the album’s liner notes, which you can read on its Bandcamp page, the impetus for this collaboration was a conversation the two men had about making music in a time of environmental and social crisis. Collected sounds — birdsong, bugs, rain, running water, the conversations of passing people, machinery — figure prominently in the two-part, 43-minute-long piece, which is bisected so evenly (the running times are exactly 22:00 and 21:00) that one suspects that this CD might once have been planned to be an LP. But so do played sounds, particularly pulsing and tolling synthesizer voices. Both have been subjected to interventions, having been looped, chopped and filtered so that their combinations constitute a sound environment quite distinct from the ones that were sampled to make it. The played sounds don’t mix with the environmental ones so much as they bob on top or alongside them, which might represent the relationship between humans and the world they strive to manipulate and manage. But if this is a soundtrack to our currently combusting world, it imposes a very specific combination of moods, simultaneously forlorn and persistent.

The experience of this recording may be modified by skipping the accompanying notes. Separated from their description of intent, this music’s crepuscular vibe might dominate, and hip sleep specialists could plausibly prescribe it as a possible aid for those seeking slumber. This is not, however, a failure on the part of the work to communicate, but evidence that the collaborative impulses that brought it into existence include the listener.