Robert Hampson: improvised analogue electronics system and guitar
It would be severely depreciative to simply call this a “drone” album, or just accentuate Robert Hampson’s return to the exercise of his main device (sorry, I couldn’t resist). But – no kidding here – this must be one of the deepest, most momentous statements of 2012 as far as ravishment-with-cerebral-stimulation is concerned. This vinyl LP was released simultaneously with Signaux, which will be duly reviewed shortly thereafter.
A cardinal warning: this is not computer-generated (or modified) matter. The sounds were born from a crossbreeding of guitar and analogue electronics, a laptop active only to record the results of the improvisations (either live or in the studio, each piece given the same title and a number; in this occasion, “Suspended Cadences” 3 and 4).
Even if the top-grade chapters of the Main era are still ringing loud in our systems of psychic retention, this formulation of the progressive genetic mutation of tones in between mind-influencing throbs and vacillating frequencies constitutes a definite step forward for Hampson. Since the very beginning, the equipped listener realizes that something much deeper than “average dronage” occurs as the pieces blossom forth. A whole universe of unhasty parabolas, micro-glitches, visible and/or concealed transfigurations and glorious radiances to look at, the effect as physically involving as being subjected to a compelling electric rubdown.
You decide the sonic channel’s undertide to follow; Hampson’s masterful work provides the essential enthrallment. More than ever, a verbal description of the evolving processes would sound utterly inadequate. The aural substance’s quality is testified by the marvelous sensations transmitted through every mode of enjoyment. Be it headphones (astounding neural rebirth) or speakers (the environment getting filled up with refulgent resonances), a needed reconnection with the inner self is guaranteed.