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REVIEWS
CHAIN
D.L.K
Two
teddy bears on the cover and a
surreal statue of a fox-headed
boy on a wheelchair on the back:
what else could you expect from
the collaboration of these two
drone masters? Judging from the
liner notes, Darren Tate has handed
his sounds to Andrew Liles who
has then structured and mixed
the five untitled tracks. Some
acoustic guitar plucking and a
few accordion improvisations (by
guest musician Kathleen Vance)
are recognizable here and there
(track 2 and 5), but most of the
work is the perfect mix of sustained
drones and natural field recordings
you'd expect - which necessarily
reminds of Monos' tradition, especially
the finest moments of "Sunny
day...". Brighter and almost
bucolic moments alternate with
powerful, awe-inspiring atmospheres
- but all is graced by that sense
of mystery and magic which is
common ground between the two
artists.
VITAL
WEEKLY
Coincidence it must be,
but here's a second collaborative
release involving our man Andrew
Liles, this time with one of favorite
drone meisters Darren Tate, who
is known for his work with Ora
and his solo
projects. On the cover (which
I should add I don't like: it's
combination of both Liles and
Tate's interests in pictures and
these two simply don't match.
It was better to choose for either
separately) Andrew Liles is
being credited as 'conductor'
and Darren Tate gets credit for
'improvisations, field recordings
and squeeze box (and one Kathleen
Vance on accordion), so me thinks,
reading such that Liles is the
one who transforms all the recordings
made by Tate and Vance. As we
all know by now, Liles has a pretty
surreal form of mixing his stuff,
but actually he does he pretty
sober job here. In some instances
he leaves Tate's playing in
tact and only seems to be adding
a little bit of electronic effects.
In the early stages of the CD
the music is rather drone based,
not unlike Tate's previous collaboration
with Paul Bradley on Plinkity
Plonk, yet not as deep. Only as
the CD progresses he gets to do
what he does best: a more collage
oriented work, with piano sounds,
coughing and accordion playing
- but it turns out to be just
the last track.
All in all this is much more drone
based work, certainly when compared
to last week's CD by The Wardrobe,
Liles' work with Tony Wakeford,
sober in tone but with some more
action than some of his UK colleagues.
So it might appeal to a lot of
people, I guess. Quite nice indeed.
(FdW)
ECR
I suspect this collaboration had
to happen just to get that awful
pun of a name out of the way.
Here Darren Tate and Andrew Liles
create several soundscapes that
mix drones, field recordings and
acoustic instruments. The slowly
evolving drone of 'Part I' builds
until the bird, insect and water
sounds, that threaten to swamp
it completely cease abruptly,
leaving only the naked drone.
'Part II' sees us back in the
bayou being serenaded by japanese
hillbillies (which reads like
an eighties slasher-movie plot).
The next two parts settle us into
the warm embrace of the pure drones
that these two do so well on their
own whilst 'Part V' brings an
accordian into the mix for what
almost, but not quite, turns into
a song. At various timesthis album
reminded me of both Volcano the
Bear (a seemingly random approach
to instrumentation) and Nurse
With Wound (a seemingly random
approach to everything) but fortunately
what we have here is far more
than the sum of it's, maybe not
influences but, contemporaries.
Tate and Liles are both skilled
enough to stamp their own collective
identity onto the proceedings
producing an album that I suspect
will be haunting my player for
some time to come
THE
WIRE
Despite a recent interest
in solo productions collaborations
suit Darren Tate. In the late
80’s Tate was a founding
member of Ora alongside Andrew
Chalk, Colin Potter and Lol Coxhill.
Currently he continues with Potter
in Monos and has also ventured
into a couple of one-off collaborations
such as Without Season with Andrew
Liles. Here, the two have split
their roles in the project in
deference to their primary talents
with Tate as the improviser and
Liles the composer. Having recorded
events in natural settings where
Tate can be heard crumpling leaves
and creaking hinges to the sounds
of birds and draining aquifers,
he passed them onto Liles who
shaped the context with the help
of his synthetic ambience into
a elegant Gothic sensibility.
On the first two tracks Liles
punctuates the division of labour
by situating Tate’s unprocessed
haptic events against his own
ominous melodic repetitions. While
Liles deftly manipulates all their
materials together into dreamy
vibrations, Without Season is
most rewarding when the synthetic
and the natural are allowed to
cohabitate.
TOKAFI
Two hugging teddy bears on the
cover, a cat’s face on the
CD, a title called ‘Without
Season’ and a plastic, or
is it ceramic(?), wheelchair-bound
boy with the head of a fox: Visual
impressions of an album, which
lists Andrew Liles as the “Conductor”.
So what to expect of a recording
by this busy duo of musicians
with a huge output of experimental
music? Well, experimental it is
and let’s just put it this
way: This album is definitely
worth listening to.
In his garden (which must be a
real heaven!) Darren Tate taped
some terrific field recordings.
In Part One – of a total
of five on this CD - we hear running
water, and its sound makes you
imagine a fresh, cool spring,
dashing downhill over stones,
finally ending its run in a quiet
pond while birds are chirping
away playfully and a mild wind
runs through the trees, moving
their leaves in a delicate underlying
swoosh. There are buzzing insects,
criss-crossing around, moving
close only to get away in a hurry.
All that accompanied by drones
that sound like one continous
tone of a bell, changing once
in a while, sometimes harmonious
and quieting, sometimes swelling
to deep, almost threatening sounds.
These drones are so very effective
in making the listener more and
more sensible for the sounds of
nature! And yet, almost unexpectedly,
they fade away, almost into non-existence,
but they still are of important
presence, while the sounds of
living creatures take over. Only
a short while later to be extinct
by the drones again, which conquer
the field and leave the listener
in a dream and mantra-like condition.
This theme goes on through the
recording in various variations.
Disharmonic accordion sounds come
in, changing their tune with the
changes in the sounds of nature.
Interestingly enough, Kathleen
Vance is credited for the accordion
play, while Darren Tate signs
responsible for the ‘squeeze
box’ play. Whatever you
want to make of this (or the conductor-crdedit
for Liles), we also find special
thanks to Mitchell, who “thought”,
and Potter, who “acted”.
But let’s get back to the
music. While parts three and four
feature the underlying themes
which we looked at before, part
five is really outstanding in
its introduction of (yes, that’s
right!) a waltz. The accordion
– or was it the squeeze
box(?) – performs short-cut
harmonies set in the waltz rhythm,
accompanied by piano tunes, that
refuse to join in the rhythm,
but produce underlying, slow melodic
chords. This creates a truly upflifting
atmosphere, and to me it is the
ultimate irony behind these recordings,
which is already hinted at in
the credits.
Really, this feels to me like
frolicking around with the oh-so-serious
approaches many people hold. This
recording prooves that there is
a lot of space for relaxation
and enjoyment. Just let your feelings
take charge and allow yourself
to laugh about what you may encounter
(even if it’s only you who
thinks it’s funny!). This
piece is great, especially in
the very sense I’ve just
described. Thanks to Darren Tate
and conductor Andrew Liles, as
well as all people envolved in
producing this fine music, we
all can finally smile when listening
to experimental music. Fred Wheeler
BRAINWASHED
Written by Lucas Schleicher
Wednesday, 30 November 2005
An incredibly fertile and industrious
musical world is going on right
beneath everyone's noses. While
this or that magazine is busy
trying to pin down the next 10
big bands or the next big scene,
musicians like Darren Tate of
Monos and Andrew Liles are busy
making music, lots of music, and
nearly everything they release
tackles some new sonic territory.
They refuse to be any one thing
except consistent, producing a
prodigious amount of work. Yet
they don't receive as much coverage
as they should, much of their
work going ignored even by those
publications claiming to bring
their audience the cutting edge
in musical innovation.
Cinematic probably best describes
the work of Andrew Liles, though
a term like that fails to hint
at all the nuances that make his
music so intriguing and fun. Darren
Tate, on the other hand, works
with Monos, a group comprised
mostly of him and Colin Potter.
Their work reaches further into
the world of drone music, populated
as it is by layers and layers
of dense electronic sound and
warped samples. Unlike some collaborations,
it is actually possible to hear
the merging of these two approaches
on Without Season. The notes claim
that Liles was just the conductor
and that Tate, along with guest
Kathleen Vance, worked on most
of the source material. If this
is true, it just goes to show
how unique Liles approach to music
is. His trademark humor and strange
understanding of horror are all
present on this disc along with
Tate's thick sound and careful
use of variation.
Everything from piano and the
sound of candy wrappers unfolding
to an accordion and the use of
bird calls can be found on this
album. Nothing is too exotic,
strange, or out of place for either
of these guys. Want to tie together
the sound of birds, running water,
a fat man moaning, and the faint
ringing of crystal glasses? These
guys will do it and they'll convince
you that each of these sounds
are out to kill you while they're
at it. That or the distinct possibility
of being suffocated will come
to mind and all the claustrophobic
nightmares everyone has will somehow
come to life and finally deliver
on their promise.
Carried out as a single piece
in five parts, Without Season
builds, recedes, and recycles
itself without bothering to stop
or take inventory of where it
has been. Its 40 plus minute duration
is over far too quickly, feeling
as though it passed in ten. At
times the record is beautifully
dreamy, almost as though it were
sewn together using silk and nothing
more. Even the abrasive parts,
especially the awesome hum that
opens the album, sounds smooth
and fine as it rumbles outward.
The album closes with a simple
melody played out between vague
environmental sounds, an accordion,
and a piano and its wandering
rhythms end up portraying the
whole of the album perfectly.
There's a sense that Tate and
Liles set out to get lost on this
record and to bring back all the
details no matter how illogical
they all might turn out to be.
This particular meeting has produced
an exceptional and strange record.
It stands out among many of the
other collaborations I've heard
and marks another high point for
both Tate and Liles.
PARIS
TRANSATLANTIC
One of the most coherent
albums to come out of Northern
England, a region that has generated
some of the purest electroacoustic
works in the last two decades
from the likes of Colin Potter,
Jonathan Coleclough, Paul Bradley
and Andrew Chalk, Without Season
fuses the skills and the vision
of two fine purveyors of egoless
kneadings of therapeutic field
recordings and pellucid naive
electronics, in the form of Andrew
Liles (whose solo work is well
represented by his excellent Drone
Works on this same label), acting
here as a "conductor",
and Darren Tate, who provides
most of the sonic material, including
his trademark environmental sounds
(water flowing and splendid birds
on top) plus a squeezebox and
various "improvisations".
Also present is Darren's neighbour,
79-year old Kathleen Vance, whose
stuttering accordion, heavily
processed and accompanied by rare
piano touches and synthetic waves,
characterizes the final movement,
a conceptual continuation of Tate's
recent Trees Kissing Trees (Fungal),
on which Vance was also prominently
featured. Instruments mesh with
the rainbow arcs of reverberating
exploration in a meeting of three
solitary souls who decided to
share a little of their intimacy.
MR
THE
UNBROKEN CIRCLE
Tate and Liles are Darren Tate
and Andrew Liles collaborating
on this album. Darren Tate is
credited with ‘improvisations,
field recordings and squeeze box’
whilst Kathleen Vance is credited
with accordion. Andrew Liles is
mysteriously only credited as
‘conductor’ and appears
to be there to produce and balance
the music. What strange and ethereal
music it is too.
Darren Tate brings us some excellent
field recordings that were captured
in his garden of flowing water,
bird song, creaking wood and insects.
Set with this are minimalist electronic
sounding drones, slow to develop
like marsh gas rising. The music
is so slow and often almost imperceptible
that the listener’s attention
is drawn to the field recordings.
Odd digital noises that seem to
be unrecognisable speech appear
at times. Reverb is added to the
field recordings which sound set
into a landscape, bird songs seemingly
both close at hand and in the
distance. Electronic effects and
layered field recordings grow
in tension, a controlled cacophony
of nature. This falls away and
the field recordings fade out
leaving only the surreal drones,
the soundtrack to uncontrolled
dreams, our minds left to wander
and loop until they find reason.
On the second part, hesitant plucked
string sounds and distant accordion
replace the drones, a distorted
squeeze box and a sound like pigs
snuffling combine to disorienting
impact. Small chime sounds come
in towards the end. In the third
part a huge accordion drone starts
set in a cavern of reverb, the
air moving slowly through the
reeds. Reflections of accordion
notes hang in the air, the original
notes fading into the distance.
The never ending reverb gives
the accordion notes a glacial
quality closer to the works of
Thomas Koner than traditional
accordion music. Over time the
original signal is lost, only
the echoes eventually remaining.
By the fourth part the sound is
minimal even ominous, formless
clouds of sound slowly seeping
into the atmosphere. Over the
course the sound is processed
eerily giving the music a mood
like that of a 1950s British science
fiction film, the land infected,
the air poisoned, each person
alien to the other.
The fifth and final piece is both
the most conventional and also
disturbing. An accordion plays
a broken, strange folk melody
merged with crow sounds and odd
resonant processing. A piano plays
dislocated notes, so few it is
as though you imagined it. Over
time all the other instruments
are removed leaving only an the
piano and a feeling of superstitious
unease. This is a highly experimental
album but one that reveals itself
slowly with a building doomed,
almost macabre atmosphere atmosphere.
Your garden has never seemed so
disturbing.
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