As I was attempting to reinstate a fraction of self-discipline in the “recent gifts” sector of the archives (translation: “desperately searching for a record that I can’t find anymore”) a thin translucent envelope materialized by pure chance. The content was a promo copy of Test/Tone Documents which was immediately set to spin, as if a silent command had implicitly erased the intention of doing other things. Then I went back to my last review of Tilly’s work, only to realize that the circumstances were exactly corresponding three years prior (namely, this writer’s demoralizing struggle against amassed promos producing the unintentional retrieval of another small gem by this very artist). Are these divine signs of sorts?
Whatever. First of all, do not be excessively influenced by neither the record’s, nor the label’s denomination. This is not a miscellany of mere drones, although its essence is shaped by a pragmatic utilization of richly resounding environments and humming substances. Indeed a couple of excerpts – “DAT 1, Location 21” coming to mind right now – grabbed the nape of the neck through a low impulse so pronounced that I almost felt physically lifted. At the same instant, my partner asked from the kitchen what was going on with a mix of interest and apprehension (the latter deriving from the recent seismic activities occurring not too distant from our living area). The longer chunks – assembled with a vigilant ear towards the alternance of quietness and substantial/subliminal quivering for maximum psychological impact – reveal Tilly’s savvy as an out-and-out composer rather than a plain “drone dabbler”. Names that were recalled – not necessarily linked to similar situations, but at least in spirit and earnestness – include Francisco López and Asmus Tietchens. These “documents”, born from electricity to ultimately benefit the nervous system, need to be carefully studied and absorbed. They mostly sound wonderfully bottomless.