Seth Nehil promotes the furtherance of wrinkled soundscapes and unadulterated emotions amidst the difficult-to-admit homogenization of consistent chunks of presumed avant-gardes, which recur to limp certainties after their name is established and the funds are granted for new “adventures”.
The audio imagery comprised by Flock And Tumble is certainly not easy to decipher: it juxtaposes various proportions, meshing physical expressiveness and studio-generated propulsion according to methods characterized by an admirable uniqueness. It doesn’t necessarily respect the blueprints of thorough independence, often sounding composed to the tiniest detail, yet its freshness is perceptible even on a first and not excessively attentive listen. But it’s only with a radical incursion in the winding spirals of these sonorities that the work reveals its importance and – in various circumstances – an unpolished, modest radiance.
Take for example the contrast between the use of the voices, which Nehil exploits in unusual fashion having the performers theatrically emitting incomprehensible, almost panic-stricken clusters and sudden disconnections, and the organic qualities of the percussive features, halfway through an on-site installation and the rattling of abandoned objects in a god-forsaken area. Elements that sound remotely isolated, practically unlinked, describe instead a courageous attempt to indicate a different mindset for the listeners, invited to join a multitude of signals whose impoverished semblance does not detract from their psychological weight. The disorientation is partially amended by the less “active” sections, where everything gets levelled by electronic or heavily processed sounds that lead us across the recondite aspects of sonic disrepair, all the while maintaining a fundamental essence of artistic incorruptibility.
An important demonstration of Nehil’s abilities, this is a classic sleeper which deserves immediate exposure, well beyond the small circle of experts to which music like this is usually addressed.