Momentum is gorgeously desolate. One must admire the restraint the duo commands, elegantly and perversely amplifying its ghastliness.
Twin, extended drones, smooth, minimal but bumpy with data coursing just beneath their skin and executed with great aplomb. Sindre Bjerga is a multifaceted sound artist amongst whose impressive discography can be unearthed gems of both dark and lighter ambient, while Micromelancolié is Robert Skrzyński, who is also Microdepresja, and who belabours “no-input mixing board, old VHS tapes, classic analogues and field recordings.” This is their second collaboration.
“Towards Water” begins with fluorescent bulb buzz in the empty hallway leading down to hell and the thousand voices murmuring are distressing, a torture of one thousand cuts. It quietly shears against the ears and furrows the brow. Surprisingly, the dark, low undertone that stealthily emerges is majestic, almost comforting when in other contexts would be decidedly creepy. On the title track, a miserable piano is left out in a field, under skies in which clouds of iron clash. But “Momentum” gets more complicated, a stream of consciousness churning through coaxial cable, visited with the same, low, dull, ultimately maddening white noise and muffled, mundane chatter. Despite the unwelcome company, Momentum is gorgeously desolate. One must admire the restraint the duo commands, elegantly and perversely amplifying its ghastliness.
Momentum is available on Twice Removed.
