Yan Jun: Edirol R09 digital recorder, cheap imitation of Apple earphones, 2-to-1 Y adapters (aka headphone splitter)
Mention “feedback music” and three names instantly knock at this writer’s memory’s door: Eliane Radigue, Arcane Device, Toshimaru Nakamura (*). There is a number of legitimate scientists in this field, of course. Unquestionably, though, the composers quoted above are the ones who have escorted my self to the deepest level of perception through that particular source.
The importance of this rather obscure CD from 2012 (accompanying a book in French language named Génération Dakou) derives from the poverty of means/richness of result ratio. Yan Jun invites to listen the fruits of his experimentation in every possible mode except via a “stupid laptop” (he quit using it in 2006: the year before I got my first, which is what I’m typing on to this minute). He instinctively knows quite a lot about the properties of feedback, utilizing it either as air-sculpting material, piercing weapon, or just as a domestic soundtrack (we hear him coughing and answering the phone in “Berlin Snow By”, recorded at his Bejing apartment). Urban reflexions are mixed to the essential matter in “Lamb Hutong” in a special brand of aurally pleasurable low-budget acousmatic episode.
For this and other reasons, this music sounds as anti-academic as you could hope for. At the same time it is sinuous, detailed and, for lack of a better adjective, “natural”. Nothing seems to impose a dominance, however sections are present (notably “In For Rain”, “Missing Air For Feng Shuo”, “Trigger For Adel” and “Out For Rain”) when ominous signals do hover around for a few moments. All things considered, our response to these creatures is conform to that experienced in hospitable, if not alluring environments. Ears and brain decode unknown frequencies in mere instants, immediately undergoing the identical process of proactive cerebral de-fragmentation caused by recordings with a wealthier origin in terms of instrumentation.
For Jun, all sorts of acoustic indicant are usable as creative substance, and he equally values silence and anything in between. By exploiting gizmos acquirable by nearly anyone he proves that it takes a valid earthborn aerial to connect to the ether in the right way. Once acknowledged that Micro Feedback: Trigger is a “name your price” release, its ample interior range and aesthetically remarkable appearance render it, well, priceless.
*= In a subsequent conversation, Yan Jun reminded yours truly of (ahem) Alvin Lucier. Shame on Ricci. Also, Jun emphasizes that everything was recorded live.