Articles
2007 Ten Favourite Labels
Backtracking Greg Davis
Shackleton Interview

Albums
John Luther Adams
Joseph Auer
Commix
Dartriix
Floratone
Furniture
Shuta Hasunuma
Richard Hawley
Hologram
Icarus
Kiln
Kobol
Labradford
Last Days
M83
Mai
Darren McClure
Near the Parenthesis
David Newlyn
Objekt4
OK Ikumi
Ontayso
Wendel Patrick
Phon°noir
Pocahaunted / Robedoor
Poostosh
Prefuse 73
Quosp
Rapoon
The Retail Sectors
Skull Disco
Socos
Supersilent
Tigrics
Trentemøller
Zuydervelt / Baars / Veld.

Compilations/Mixes
Airport Symphony
Devil in the Detail
Dinky
EXPANSION | contraction
Funckarma
Little Darla v. 25
One Five Zero
Playgroup / Alter Ego
Signal Path
Soul Jazz Singles
U-cover Mix 03 [IDM]
Ricardo Villalobos
We Are All Cotton-Hearted
Well Deep

3"/ 7"/ 10"/ 12"/ EPs
Basic Unit
Bodycode
Kit Clayton & Sutekh
Dartriix
Ditch
INKlings
Insanic4
Lackluster
Najem Sworb
Ontayso
Sutekh
The Tamborines
Telafonica
Zainetica

Supersilent: 8
Rune Grammofon

After a near-five year absence, Arve Henriksen returns with partners Helge Sten (aka Deathprod), keyboardist Ståle Storløkken, and drummer Jarle Vespestad for Supersilent's eighth outing. Henriksen's Strjon and 8 are about as different in character as might be imagined, as the latter's nightmarish opener, an eleven-minute, coagulant sludgefest of arrhythmic drumming, bass-heavy fuzz, and tolling bells, makes clear. In this context, Henriksen's trumpet is merely one voice of many (its first appearance comes during the funereal meditation “8.4,” thirty minutes into the album), with the focus instead on collective music-making that references Krautrock, electronic composition, and free-form jazz without committing itself to one more than another. Rooted in an improvised, real-time approach (sans overdubs), the group's material develops organically, and exudes a primal feel similar in explorative spirit to the Art Ensemble of Chicago's open-ended style (the closing minutes of “8.3” could even pass for a harrowing King Crimson improv circa 1972, of all things). In the album's most extreme case of contrast, Henriksen's falsetto voice floats angelically during “8.6,” an exercise in restraint obliterated by the incinerating meltdown that follows in “8.7.” Such long-form pieces constitute a challenging listen, to say the least, but Supersilent's uncompromising music oozes integrity.

December 2007

This review also appears in Signal To Noise.