Wilt ~ As Giants Watch Over Us
Empire Of The Snake
conjures images – perhaps unsurprisingly - of large metallic snakes
slithering and writhing over an oversize circuit board, their movements causing
short circuits and sudden sparks. In the background but everpresent, a seemingly
never-ending moebius strip of generator hum coils and uncoils. Both sonic
forms appear to coexist in an uneasy alliance which might rupture at any moment.
Spectral voices populate the title track like the spirits of ancestors. An insistent rhythm assembles itself out of electrical detritus. It might be a recording of a forgotten Marinnetti or Malevich experiment recovered by Wilt for our edification.
The Mystery of Iniquity comes on like ambient temple sound, incense hanging heavy in the air, the muffled sound of distant bells. The Hindu Goddess of smoke, Dhumavati, will rise up at any moment and engulf us.
The Fiddler And The Fool comes on like an ancient machine whose purpose has long been forgotten, but which still carries on clanking and pumping. People come and go flitting like shadows on timelapse duration. More than halfway through the pace picks up - perhaps a signal has been received, a long dormant circuit has activated. Is it a doomsday machine, are we in danger? The mechanism begins to wind down, perhaps these moments are the end of its life. Its mysterious purpose fulfilled.
The Coming Plague’s cheery title ushers in insect-borne sounds. The symptoms of this disease are senseless repetition, sudden dropouts, emptiness.
Engineering Eternity attempts to tune into an active radio station, but succeeds in only encountering endlessly modulating static. Have all the lights finally gone out?
Wilt’s dark, beatless ambience is music best absorbed via headphones. If you don’t own a copy of As Giants Watch Over Us you may discover it seeping in through the cracks in your windows, insinuating itself ineffably into your environment. Wilt provides materials for dreaming, but beware: your dreams may be the sort you’ll want to escape from by pinching yourself. Just pray it works...
Samples available here.
Spectral voices populate the title track like the spirits of ancestors. An insistent rhythm assembles itself out of electrical detritus. It might be a recording of a forgotten Marinnetti or Malevich experiment recovered by Wilt for our edification.
The Mystery of Iniquity comes on like ambient temple sound, incense hanging heavy in the air, the muffled sound of distant bells. The Hindu Goddess of smoke, Dhumavati, will rise up at any moment and engulf us.
The Fiddler And The Fool comes on like an ancient machine whose purpose has long been forgotten, but which still carries on clanking and pumping. People come and go flitting like shadows on timelapse duration. More than halfway through the pace picks up - perhaps a signal has been received, a long dormant circuit has activated. Is it a doomsday machine, are we in danger? The mechanism begins to wind down, perhaps these moments are the end of its life. Its mysterious purpose fulfilled.
The Coming Plague’s cheery title ushers in insect-borne sounds. The symptoms of this disease are senseless repetition, sudden dropouts, emptiness.
Engineering Eternity attempts to tune into an active radio station, but succeeds in only encountering endlessly modulating static. Have all the lights finally gone out?
Wilt’s dark, beatless ambience is music best absorbed via headphones. If you don’t own a copy of As Giants Watch Over Us you may discover it seeping in through the cracks in your windows, insinuating itself ineffably into your environment. Wilt provides materials for dreaming, but beware: your dreams may be the sort you’ll want to escape from by pinching yourself. Just pray it works...
Samples available here.
Colin Buttimer
April 2004