Reinhold Friedl: composition, oscillators.
You have read that La Monte Young-like title: review done, next up. No, really – how can one gestate new words to explicit the impact of pure waves on a neuronal constitution predisposed to opening its remotest corners to acoustic sinlessness? Beyond any theoretical issue and shopworn equivalence, Friedl’s endeavour stands right there with the most impressive psychoacoustic trips sounding familiar – at least in name – to you synth geeks, usually THE experts in this parcel of land together with the living encyclopaedias of contemporary static soundscaping. The piece lasts a full hour, and it flows effortlessly and attractively. At the outset, the different trajectories of the wavering pitches attempt to untune a bit our mental representation of the phenomena, even if it soon becomes clear that this is a sort of preparatory rite for what will come later. However, describing the process in detail is not obligatory; what is important to punctuate is the marvelous sensation – also typical, for example, of Phill Niblock’s music – of an apparent changelessness hiding myriads of micro-shifts and modifications of pulse. It is exactly this composite structure that makes a psychophysical adjustment possible, once again certifying that we – pathetic humans deluded in the belief of a presumed favorable position in the cosmos at large – count instead for nil in the great scheme of things. In a word: we subsist because of vibration (though this is hard to explain to people who still look for higher-ranking entities), therefore craving a return to it when we have finished business on earth should appear a quite obvious option. The rest, as they say in the trade, is silence. But don’t expect the latter from (wannabe) enlightened scientists and researchers.