Damián Anache :: Lento, en un jardín lenticular (Inkilino)

Anache plays a lot with each sound he introduces, and instead of​ striving for some insane out-of-this world timbres like you may​ sometimes hear in guitar-driven electroacoustics, he focuses more on building with the more subtle tones he’s creating. Layering and​ constant variation make this a worthwhile LP for fans of atonal​ electronic music.

Bareboned

Lento, en un jardín lenticular is a 50 minute suite or​ improvisational electroacoustics, one that makes use of plenty of​ interesting textures. One thing I particularly like about​ electroacoustic music in general is peculiar timbres, given that the​ manipulation of sounds sources allows for quite a lot of interesting​ results, might as well amp that up as much as you can; on this record​ in particular, there’s barely any resemblance of traditional​ instruments, and focus on tonality is kept at an all time low. The big​ draw of this LP are indeed its timbres, but there’s also a lot of​ captivating moments in terms of composition, especially as one track​ directly follows the previous.

For starters, the initial run of tracks is really bareboned. There are​ some hisses of noise and some clicks, seemingly with no direction, as​ there’s no reward to the slow build up the album offers initially. It​ is building though, as the pieces get denser; silence is far less as​ “Por mi culpa” begins, while on the opener “Drishti” you were​ comforted by some really thin ambience scattered among periods of​ silence. It is “Por mi culpa” that widens the scope of sounds the​ record offers, as the clicks get so frequent they turn into a fuzzy​ noise, not necessarily​ becoming a pitch, but it builds a robust tone.

All of this then crumbles into silence yet again, almost as if this​ piece had a slow and controlled raptus; its calm ending allows for the​ introduction of the following track, “La llanura de las esferas.”​ Now, this one, this is a damn great drone piece. The lead drone is​ really cold and stiff, as it endlessly cycles its pulse, while behind​ that others join to create a wider sense of space; I really like the​ added layer that almost seems to mimic the lead, as it does so in much​ lighter and echoed way. Some bits of scattered clicky noises also pop​ up from time to time, and quickly fade away, granting the piece with​ those occasional additions that allow it to disrupt its hypnotic​ nature. The piece is constantly mutating too, because even if the​ pulsating drone I mentioned always maintains its presence, the others​ either thin out or become more sluggish, leading the piece to slowly​ go back to just that initial buzz, and also allowing to transition​ into the following track.

Surrounded by ethereal​ vocalizations ::

After “La llanura de las esferas,” I do think the album becomes a bit​ homogenous, but there are standouts anyways. “Obvio y obtuso” is​ perhaps the most memorable piece, mainly because of its use of vocals.​ Do not take that as me saying there’s live singing here, because the​ vocals—which are taken from a very short snippet anyways, as you can​ guess by hearing similarities between the chopped bits—are manipulated​ in a way that they resemble spirits more than they do human signing.​ Seriously, the piece is really haunting, as it starts off with what I​ assume are tongue or lips clicks, almost as if they​ were some sort of​ call, and after some silence you start to get surrounded by ethereal​ vocalizations. I’m pretty confident that every single sound you hear​ in this piece derives from a mouth, even the veiled pads in the​ background have a bit of a nasal tone to them that reassures me​ they’re sung—and not actually coming from a different plane of​ existence. That being said, the effect that all the different​ manipulations create is enveloping and pretty surreal, and while​ Anache does mention that the sound comes from a recording of his own​ voice, you would bet there’s at least three people used as source from​ how distinct he manages to make the​ snippets.

The other track that impresses me in the second half is “Un lienzo que​ fue velo,” as it is a cold and dry track to finish off the LP—it​ actually ends with a short epilogue which seems to borrow from other​ tracks on the album, wrapping up with a short reminder. Compositionally speaking, this might be the most straightforward track on​ the LP, as it seems to want to focus on just a handful of tones and on​ keeping them alive for as long as possible. There’s aren’t many new​ ones that get added as the piece progresses, rather what you hear at​ the beginning is what eventually morphs into the later parts of the​ piece, and you go from a very stiff metallic hiss to a smooth hollow​ drone; still, some tones do pop in and out, but I can’t drive my focus​ away from that one lead pitch that’s constantly staying the same for​ minutes, everything orbiting around it is kind of playing second​ fiddle and you’re just staring at this one straight line waiting for​ it to shift, which it eventually​ does so as I said.

On this album I found a lot of intriguing moments. When the music is​ as minimalistic as the one presented here, I appreciate when the​ musician(s) try to make the most of how little they’re displaying; Anache plays a lot with each sound he introduces, and instead of​ striving for some insane out-of-this world timbres like you may​ sometimes hear in guitar-driven electroacoustics, he focuses more on building with the more subtle tones he’s creating. Layering and​ constant variation make this a worthwhile LP for fans of atonal​ electronic music.

Lento, en un jardín lenticular is available on Inkilino. [Bandcamp]