In this CDR from 2010, Adam Sussmann and Matt Earle utilize a mixing board, electronics and a guitar to devise strategies aimed at enticing the listener into a flimsy reticule of (mostly) severely emaciated frequencies, sibilating micro-ripples and moderate conflict, a large part of the events bordering on the undetectable unless you shut yourselves inside a well-isolated room and raise the volume quite a bit (the outside cicada choirs today were enough to vanquish the music, so I had to reiterate the trial several times in succession). The program is built around eight consecutive untitled tracks, only the first incorporating traces of more dominant sonic delineation (a sturdy “surprise pop” for starters, piling strata of hums, a decent level of throbbing). Already at the second stage we’re thrown upon turfs where perking up the ears and moving the head to at least intuit what is unseizable is a must, although one does sense the existence of something going on even in the most secretive fragments. In substance, the procedure consists of combined tinnitus-like emissions that seem to move according to erratic laws – occasionally enhanced by remnants of clearer resonance – with a bare minimum of “harmonic” frame appearing under the shape of imperceptibly fluctuating radiances, or faint neon lights flickering every once in a while. There’s some degree of organic life in there, which is what helps keeping the whole sufficiently intriguing.