Steve Flato: raw data, open circuit radio, tape
My deep-rooted taste for nicely coagulated concourses of dynamically supercharged ejaculations makes sure that releases such as Mara’s Daughters can secure a luminous spot in any given reviewing day. The first release on this recently launched Mexican imprint is a cassette, but don’t think about the sort of C-20 gargle-and-yelp crap inexpensively recorded by some retard in a fetid room. This one lasts like, say, a double vinyl LP at circa 81 minutes total, and comes with fully-fledged compositions revolving around the “chance vs calculated process” axis. The three tracks might smudge quietness and/or ravage membranes, but immediately show the forethought put in by Flato, who strived on educating the uncleanness of these sounds over a decade. The composer dedicated the work to Eliane Radigue and Richard Maxfield, whose antithetical minimalist formulas find an idealistic dispersion inside the articulate crumbling acridness of the long title track. The result verges on “desensitizing” rather than “aurally pestiferous”, unless you belong to those who still believe that mantras are legal only when intoned by a human congregation, crass imperfections and cheap shots included in the price. The subsequent chapters “Mara’s Veils” and “Salton Sea” approximate a vision of complexity through diversely nuanced textures, between grating exacerbation and hypnotically marshy misrepresentation (the latter piece originates from recordings captured in a derelict tourist venue). The consequences on the brain remain equally impressive.