masteller

Boron / Argon – Mirages
5.23.17 by Ryan Masteller

“Boron?! More like Boreon, right?” Thus was revoked this writer’s music-reviewing license as the authorities at the Central Office realized I had intentionally paraphrased a Billy Madison joke, replacing “chlorophyll/boreophyll” with “Boron/Boreon,” a stupid, ham-fisted attempt at jocularity that falls even flatter as I continue to type it into oblivion by explaining it. I am the Adam Sandler of music writers. Somebody pull the plug on this laptop.

As much as Billy Madison was a dimwitted tool for suggesting learning about something new was stupid, I, too, am an unmitigated disaster for reshaping Boron to Boreon, as Dan Nelson’s output under a litany of chemical signifiers – including Freon and, uh, Elron – is consistently engaging from one release to the next. Here, on his Tymbal Tapes debut, Nelson transitions from Boron to Argon like a nonmetal to a noble gas, on paper an impossibility (probably – my chemistry’s super rusty; there’s something about ions or isotopes in there, and going from atomic number 5 to 18 probably requires some kind of act-of-God molecular interference), but in pseudonymical terms, Nelson makes it look easy. “Mirages” is a non-split split between Nelson’s two aliases, an anomaly relegated to official tracklists and Jcards. The music itself flows as a cerebral whole.

As is his typical terrain, Nelson, navigates a synthesizer bank set permanently to “billowing,” hewing closer to those noble gases and hovering in the atmosphere until pressure causes them to condense and oscillate, agitating for a few moments before drifting apart once again on their way through the ether. Tones and moods change ever so subtly throughout, and “Mirages” as a zoomed-out whole takes on soft, pastel hues through the synesthetic processes recorded by your brain. Don’t be fooled by the b/w cover art or slate-gray tape (although they are both unapologetically gorgeous) – Boron/Argon is filled with color and texture, radiating outward to cover the earth with its sonic particulate. Think of it as helpful pollution, restorative vibes penetrating the cells of every living organism, not remotely like the lung-busting amounts of carbon dioxide continually pumped into your system. It’s like the opposite of living in Beijing. Probably.

Released May 5, 2017, right here on Tymbal Tapes, this lovely catalog item “features pro-dubbed chrome tape housed in metallic silver shells, and double-sided 3-panel j-cards printed in black ink on luxurious antique gray linen.” The edition of 75 will probably go quick.

Lost Trail – What If This Was All A Twilight, Trembling On The Edge Of Darkness​?​
5.18.17 by Ryan Masteller

Certainly craving the inexorable movement forward into an unending future, Lost Trail, the husband-and-wife duo of Zachary and Denny Corsa, recognize the instability of the razor wire we’re tip-toeing across as forces greater than our everyday points of control threaten to overturn existence as we know it. Heck, I’ve got 50/50 odds on this whole thing blowing up in our faces. The question is real, then, that the Corsas ask, What If This Was All A Twilight, Trembling On The Edge Of Darkness​?​ What if indeed? If it is, it’s the waiting that’s killing us, the suspense as we hover on the brink of making it or not. Over fifteen tracks spanning drone, noise, found sound, and percussion-less shoegaze, Lost Trail explores the ideas inherent in apocalyptic potential, from wall-of-sound destruction to post-human calm, teasing the nuances out of every nook and cranny of every pile of rubble in the wake of our passing on this planet. It doesn’t hurt that snippets of field-recorded dialogue pop up here and there, agitated voices rising above the din in supreme displeasure at their situation. Sort of like on those old Godspeed records. Blaise Finnegan was an intense dude.

So what’s the answer? Should somebody just push the button and end this grand cosmic experiment? Accelerate the next phase of evolution? Or obliterate us back into star stuff? I don’t know, man, but I’m sick and tired of nothing happening, and I’m sure the Corsas are too. In the face of a garbage existence for a large percentage of Earth’s population, an existence that doesn’t have to be, Lost Trail continue to hone their craft, mixing in some hope with the despair and hopefully angering those of us on the fence out of our stupor. Regardless, the ebb and flow of mood, the manipulation of beauty and despair within the sonic elements, and the masterful compilation of these tracks into a whole that moves expertly from one passage to the next set Lost Trail apart as one of the most emotional experimental drone units this side of the inevitable. Or not inevitable? Maybe there’s still good in us! I bet Lost Trail could feel it, if they wanted to.

This C61 is limited to 60 copies from Already Dead Tapes – and there are only 5 left at this moment! Get your stupid wallet out buy one already. If, of course, you haven’t mutated from the nuclear fallout. You probably wouldn’t need a wallet at that point anyway. Just, maybe, some clean drinking water.