JIM HAYNES – Scarlet

The Helen Scarsdale Agency

Jim Haynes: all sounds, composition

By scattering around propagations of distressing sonic detritus, Jim Haynes never betrays when it comes to ignite scathing psychological responses. Accordingly, Scarlet may very well be his strongest statement to date in terms of “proportionate derangement”. The origins of what we hear are often indiscernible under thick layers of digital waste, most changes of scenario as consistently sharp as repeated shocks. The hired frequencies pound, grate, bubble detrimentally and settle down – briefly – in a composite of radiation and transmittance. Symptoms of an internal fight between the motivation to survive and the gradual degradation of the useless are conveyed. Disembodied voices carry signals of despair linked to a painful change of integrity; cold morsels of unspoken dilapidation render the acoustic premises even more foreboding.

At least three tracks should be singled out across the overall depth of this work, which in any case should be absorbed as a continuum. “Racine To Vermillion” is disrespectful towards any misconception related to stasis, in spite of several chunks of apparent trance. “Kazanlăk” and “Pfennig M.” leave no room for regret: pungent-smelling vacuums annihilating presumed nirvanas, frightening intransigence, harrowing uncertainty, ultimate hurt, definitive silence. Colors fade, presages rise inside: we’re almost ready to get snatched from the jaws of a grinning daily falsity.

Rarely one meets an artist so coherent in churning out recordings that systematically challenge the listener to an authentic analysis of the self. At the margins of a cynical awareness of the infertility incidental to all theistic theories, Haynes points us to a severity of approach which takes into account just everything, from illusion to failure via a hypothetical heavenly truth. In actuality, he merely mashes the remnants of man-conceived cosmic bullshit to distill the essence of a genuine animist perception.

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