Supersilent ~ 1-3
Version 1
1 t(w)o 3
repackaged for minimal signification. blue joins black and grey. 4, only,
still retaining expressive surface (pencil marks, pale blue typeface intimate
mental illness, attendant pharmacology). music unchanged
1.1
percussive, left channel circa 2.5 minutes. synth squirt initiates right
channel. electronics, voice follow. trace parallel, independent trajectories.
instructions for unspecified electronic unit recited by varispeed voice,
almost obliterated by electronic noises. fore-/background interplay: pickup
pluckings, scrapings, electrical hum beating ineluctable pulse
1.2
crypto funk beset by metal fatigue
1.3
cacophonous
squalling
fearsome
urgent
scorched
blasted
1.4
rushing, swarming spirits/worrying and racing/renewing and continuing/humming
and modulating upwards. abrupt end
2.1
howls from parched throat under spooked moon. Sparks shower from short-circuiting
Giorgio Moroder. sub-bass needles litter floor
2.2
attempting to start, failing, attempting, failing, attempting
2.3–2.4
demolition/construction | heavy earth moving equipment | low flying helicopters
2.5
dental drill encountering bone
alien craft sensors
cranial scouring
(meltdown imminent)
(new shapes separating out)
3.1
uncertain processes, palpable sounds
negotiating undergrowth, echoes of fourth world
storm always gathering, never quite breaking
3.2-3.3
rhythmic marking (1.1) reprised, accrues increasing sounds of industry |
sentient shortwave emanates from tiger economies, several transmissions
melding | severed cables suppurate electronic discharges
3.4
rattled percussion under lowering skies, feedback circling vulture-like:
awaiting a final conflagration, instead delicate emptiness pervades mourned
over by simple melody, gradually overtaken, ultimately obliterated by swirling
sonic dust storm
this music imprints like retinal afterimage
vital
not for faint-hearted. don’t be faint-hearted
Version 2
Though the music remains unchanged, this reissue has been repackaged to
minimise visual signification. The new plain blue cover of 1-3 joins 5’s
black and 6’s grey. 4’s expressive surface - whose pencil marks
and pale blue typeface once intimated mental illness and its attendant pharmacology
- is also to disappear.
1.1
Slamming percussion in only the left channel for the first two minutes is
joined by electronics and voice in the right which appear to trace parallel,
independent trajectories. The voice enunciates instructions for an unspecified
electronic unit. At times it is almost obliterated by electronic noise.
An electrical hum beats an ineluctable pulse.
1.2
Crypto funk beset by metal fatigue.
1.3
Is cacophonous, squalling, fearsome, urgent, scorched, blasted. Enter this
track with care, prepared perhaps to leave before its end.
1.4
Invokes rushing, swarming spirits: worrying and racing, renewing and continuing,
humming and modulating gradually upwards towards an abrupt end.
2.1
Begins with howls from a parched throat under a spooked moon. Conjures images
of sparks showering from a short-circuiting Giorgio Moroder machine, of
sub-bass needles littering the floor around speaker cones.
2.2
Tries to start and fails, tries again and fails again. Over and over.
2.3–2.4
Is the sound of demolition followed by construction, of heavy earth moving
equipment harried by low flying helicopters.
2.5
A dental drill encounters bone. A new machine has been invented to scour
the cranium, perhaps this is its sound. Meltdown appears imminent: as it
approaches surprising new shapes separate out from the soundmass.
3.1
Consists of uncertain processes, palpable sounds; of fourth world echoes
emanating from the undergrowth. A storm appears to be always gathering,
but never quite breaking.
3.2-3.3
The electric pulse from 1.1 is reprised and accrues increasing sounds of
industry, of multiple shortwave transmissions from Pacific Rim economies
melding together, of severed cables suppurating electronic discharges.
3.4
Is the sound of rattled percussion under lowering skies and feedback circling
vulture-like as it awaits a final conflagration. Instead a delicate emptiness
appears, mourned over by a simple melody which is gradually overtaken and
ultimately obliterated by a final sonic storm.
In the ensuing silence after the blasting of this music, 1-3 appears in
the memory to have been forged from igneous rock. This music imprints itself
on the mind like a retinal afterimage, like a tatoo that will not fade.
1-3 is vital music, not for the faint-hearted: don’t be faint-hearted.