6.6.19 by Ryan Masteller
More German Army, huh? OK, I’ll bite! Concrete Colored Paint is an alter ego of Peter Kris, mastermind behind the GeAr brand, and a favorite around these parts. You may have seen some posts recently on this very website touting the prolific artist, with us even going so far as to call for a “German Army” week on certain social media platforms. True, those were a Burnt Probe and an actual Peter Kris release (and then there was this German Army post on another website somewhere – dark web, I think), so I think that means we’ve covered everything now that we’ve got CCP on here. We’re nothing if not thorough around these parts.
So we’ve covered the bombed-out industrial, the post rock–inflected ambient, and the scorched techno this week, let’s take a look at some sample-based ambient, shall we? A little musique concrète perhaps? A little … musique Concrète Colored Paint? Too far. Anyhoo, these eight dense, drifting tracks are straight from the school of kiln-fried sound design, their cracked, sunbaked façades warbling gently like they’ve been left on the car seat in the summertime. Utilizing quite a bit of birdsong and the chirping of insects, not to mention faded voices, CCP adds layers of synthesizer tones to enhance the effects of his recording. The result is familiar yet alien, an often mesmerizing look at places you’ve never been or places you’ll never be.
But of course none of those places exist, but Puerto Rico and Pomona do, and it’s in these two locations that the album was realized. We can sit here all day and try to read into how much these two places played into the conceptualization of “Free Association” (beyond the field recordings, OBVIOUSLY), but in the end the only way to do this is to let the sounds wash over you like you’re sitting out in the middle of a yard somewhere letting rain or sunshine or jellied blobs cover your body. The jellied blobs are from the imaginary place that you can’t get to. Can you imagine getting splotted by jellied blobs in the middle of the afternoon? I mean, c’mon.
Park 70 at it again. Edition of 50 in letterpressed sleeve w/ heavy card stock insert. Beautiful stuff, as always.