Each disc features him in a different, virtually hypnotic sound situation. Squire is a nearly 43-minute almost constant basso ostinato-shaped meeting between Rowe and one of his younger acolytes, Australian guitarist Oren Ambarchi. Although sonically similar, additional timbres on Tensions add another layer of interpretation to the electro-acoustic mixture.

Recorded live in Berlin, the double Nexsound CD celebrates the fifth anniversary of Perlonex, a German trio made up of Jörg Maria Zeger on guitars, percussionist Burkhard Beins and Ignaz Schick on turntables, objects and live electronics. The sound of the first of the two CDs, which adds Rowe to the existing trio, is notable as slightly inflated version of the table-top guitarist’s ongoing saga. Comparable, but appending distinctive patterns to the mix, is the second CD of the set, which links Perlonex with American composer/performer Charlemagne Palestine on piano and organ-like keyboards.

Symbolist where Rowe’s contribution is unadorned and ritualistic in his output, where the guitarist’s improvising is plainly agnostic, Palestine has links to 19th century Impressionism and 20th century Minimalism. His single contributions is no less mesmerizing than Rowe’s on the other two sessions, yet only with his piano chording are you confident enough to ascribe textures to a single acoustic instrument.

Palestine’s repetitive arpeggios and other vibrational overtones would seem antithetical to the stripped down, intermittent playing of Schick and Beins, for instance, who are often found in the company of other reductionists, such as trumpeter Axel Dörner and inside pianist Andrea Neumann. However when his swirling organ washes and tremolo hammered key strokes reach a unambiguous mass of counter tones, these tones append unequalled chromatic progressions to Perlonex’s conception. Then the trio responds in kind.

Soon Palestine’s playful piano clusters, lying on top of organ-like, repetitive tones are layered in an aural sandwich with melodic guitar riffs, repeated hammering, as if a blunt object was striking an unlatched cymbal, and no-input turntable crackles and crunches. Concentrated, the polyphony turns to a repetitive ostinato which itself ascends to a crescendo of near-vocalized envelopes of ringing counter tones and metronomic sound cadences. Evolving further in broken octaves, piano key clipping and pinging, plus percussion rumbles, chain rattles and maracas shakes continue to vibrate among the undulating organ chords.

Precise unitary cymbal strokes, introduce the final section, which mutes the ecclesiastical organ’s chord progression. Before a conclusive keyboard flourish, however, scraping electronic pitches, plus drum rumbles make their presence known.

In contrast, Perlonex plus Rowe appears as four interlocking parts of a single motor-driven block. Humming electronic pulsations characterize the four-man output with only slivers of crumbling percussion pressure and guitar fuzz tone intermittently audible.

Soon the overwhelming wave form flutters become more diffuse, more drone-like and more circular – all tension and no release. With the recurring single tone triggering an envelope of grinding pulses, the cumulative sound picture moves from forte to fortissimo – almost quadruple the volume at which the suite began.

A penultimate variation interrupts interlude of sequences scrapes with two drones – one inchoate and shrill, and the other low-pitched and buzzing. As the grinding timbres snake from one side of the interface to the other, the concentrated intensity is almost visual. Traditionally rondo-like in theory, yet pitch-modulated microtonal in execution, the piece finally shudders towards a finale, which never arrives. Instead the sound diminishes, first into wisps of the initial repeated theme, and then it dissolves into silence.

Ken Waxman

Piotr Tkacz

CD one contains three quartes of an hour of Perlonex with Keith Rowe playing tabletop guitar. Within a few minutes layers of distant sounds, rising hissing and noises getting denser and denser evolve from about nothing, opening spaces, building walls and rooms and halls and roofs. Staying away from building a monolithic brickwall of sound, the four musicians gradually grow a stream of sounds that swells, becomes bigger and bigger and starts to incorporate more and more space. At times a simple small bellsound forms the only constant rhythmical measure while the level of noise rises. Bitstreams of digital noise as well as looped cut impromptu recordings.

After some time the soundstream has reached its culmination and starts to ebb down again, just as slowly but also just as headstrong as it grew. While listening you think that this point has come over and over again, but when it actually has come you will only have noticed when it already has gone by. More often than not you’ll be wrong. You’ll be amazed at the power this track can form without going to the extreme and harsh attack of, for example, Merzbow. Suddenly all that is left is a humming, vibrating bass sound that seems to live inside the walls rather than inside the boxes. And from there it starts again. Ebb and flow, the most eternal structure of sound there is.

CD two seems more lively and diverse, but nobody would judge if there wasn’t the comparison to Keith Rowe on the first CD. Everything seems to be more on the surface as well, the movements and changes in the music not as hidden or subdued. Signified eloquently by the introductory speech of Palestine to the audience. Electroacoustics seems to live from dynamics as well as from the diversity and curiosity of and in sound. If the track with Keith Rowe is a prime example of controlling dynamics then the track with Charlemagne Palestine is a prime example of incorporating and discovering sounds from the subconscious. On the matter of dynamics on the other hand the second CD in this package suprisingly seems even more monosyllabic and woven along a singular line than the first. But since Palestine could do wonders on a piano that has only one key left, that just adds to the full vibrating drone-atmosphere of the event. A glistening, crackling fourty minutes of sound.

Tension indeed. The most basic examination of the dynamics of tension, analysed by strengthening the density over a long period of time and then releasing it just as slowly. The true fascination of this movement is impossible for me to describe, and maybe I shouldn’t so as not to kill the organism that sound can become if treated right by manipulation and the right way of listening. Probably just a modern form of zen-breathing? Well, breathtaking it is.

Caution: if you are aware of adverse organic reactions to high frequencies, better stay away from this record.