Transmission 009 achieves a striking unity of sound across all of its thirteen tracks. This could even all be the work of one artist, but it’s not. While there are differences, the commonalities between these musicians flow together in sequence to create a lush tapestry.
A striking unity of sound across all of its thirteen tracks
Collecting compilations can become addictive. It’s such a great way to find alternative mixes, new artists, and obscure, elsewhere unreleased bits and bobs of music. What’s not to love? Label compilations can become another sub-vein to mine for their own rich ore. The label compilations I’ve known and loved over the years have come from Kranky, Touch, and Soleilmoon among others. As a radio person, its always good to have some compilations, and any time I head to the station, it is standard practice to throw in some compilations into my bag. For the DJ, the compilation is a real life saver! One of those tracks might be just what you need to do a mix up right!
Imaginary North comes into this tradition with their ninth transmission, introducing me to a roster of ambient artists I previously had no exposure to, except Kilometre Club. Now, compilations can be totally eclectic, or totally unified in sound vision. In part it depends on the comp and if there is any theme to it, or on the label, and how eclectic they are or aren’t. Transmission 009 achieves a striking unity of sound across all of its thirteen tracks.
This could even all be the work of one artist, but it’s not. While there are differences, the commonalities between these musicians flow together in sequence to create a lush tapestry. It starts with a very short piece by E J R M, “It Can Happen That Fast.” It’s like a portal that opens up the rest of the collection. When played back to back with the last track, it’s bookended with perfection. But there is plenty of good stuff in between those two points.
The harmonica on “Have You Really Been Here This Whole Time” by The Passive Fire is nothing to harp about. This second track sucks you into the rest of the comp. I’m glad to hear harmonica on ambient tracks any day of the week. I love the way The Orb used it somewhere on either Blue Room or U.F.Orb (I’ll have to go back and listen—no problem there!) or the way Steve Roach and Roger King used it on their Dust to Dust album. Harmonica is a pleasure. The texture really lends itself to being used alongside electronics, and gives things some difference. I’m surprised more folk don’t drone out on the harmonica.
This segues into “Magisteries of Gold and Immateriality” from Blear Moon and Carlos Ferreira where liquid and gentle arpeggios are paired with slurred and slowed down tape sounds, gentle and distinct, even as the grit and glitch of tape fading comes in and out. Hipwell next gives us the soaring synth ode “Mutual Impermanence.” Like the title, swells of reverberating pads rise and fall like human lives and human civilizations. An intonating voice sits in the background giving it all a spiritual yet somewhat ominous feel. rhubiqs—what a great name—traverses a similar synth laden territory with the focus more on sustained low-end vibrato that the other sounds emerge from and then dissipate back into on the mysteriously titled “C/1995 01.”
Sun Rain continues the musical massage with “Seven” which is the sixth track, but about halfway through this comp. This is the kind of music that could create rainbows, with all seven colors.
I’ve got to love an artist who goes by the name Path Of Silence. It recalls to me the painting of Frantisek Kupka named “Way of Silence” and “Way of Silence II” from between 1900 and 1903. In silence the mind is free to drift and that’s what it does when listening to “Mind Drift.” Melancholic chords give way to sparkling crystalline structures of musical geometry on this late-night piece, before sounds from cafes or voices talking drift in to break the reverie.
On “Auto Slumber” a project going by the name of Alpha Mound takes us into a hypnagogic space where you immediately trance out in the drone zone. This is followed by another gem, waking up with Morning Haze and their “Perpetual Confinement” which despite the title, glitters with something effervescent, perhaps a barely recalled dream of a place full of light and glowing mind. The piece from Richard Griffiths, “Aquila Cadens” could likewise come from some celestial realm as it channels vibes of calm centeredness.
Label boss Kilometre Club joins forces with Alysse Rich on “The Mountains Far Far Away” where her abstract vocalizations take center stage, ascending to the path upwards far across the plain.
Nature sounds with reverb and delay follow from Gears In the Rain with “Nipigon Trail Rediscovered.” Apparently, this seems to be named after a trail in a Toronto city park, conjuring up images of cold misty days on the northern side of Lake Ontario.
The last track brings it all to a resounding conclusion courtesy of EBlo on “Air That I Breathe.” The opening kind of reminds me of some of the chords from the Autechre song “VLetrmx” from Garbage (Warp 1995). (Or, if you were like me, you have it on the Tri Repetae++ CD.) But it’s different and goes off in another direction, but that sound resemblance and resonance gives me an immediate emotional attachment to the piece. “The Air that I Breathe” is simply a reminder, that as Sun Ra said, “Music is a plane of wisdom, because music is a universal language, it is a language of honor, it is a noble precept, a gift of the Airy Kingdom, music is air, a universal existence common to all the living.”
Imaginary North Transmissions 009 is available on Imaginary North. [Bandcamp]
