Cloud Circuit: Bur sting brea k'r
Archive Officielle

Jeremy Young: Filaments
Eliane Tapes

Two very different projects reflect the wide-ranging interests of Sontag Shogun member Jeremy Young, one an hour-long sine tones-based piece created in tribute to Éliane Radigue (b. 1932) and the other a ten-minute, seven-inch vinyl affair with poet/wordsmith Deanna Radford under the Cloud Circuit name. It would be hard to imagine two more contrasting releases, sonically speaking.

Available in an edition of 100 cassette copies, Filaments appears on Eliane Tapes, a sub-label of the Amsterdam-based Moving Furniture Records. As its name implies, Eliane Tapes issues releases dedicated to the Paris-born electronic pioneer, its very existence attesting to her pervasive and enduring influence. Working with tape machines and a 1968 Heath EUW-27 sine generator, Young attempts a reimagining of Radigue's Transamorem - Transmortem (1973). Like it, Filaments concentrates on stillness, and as such patience and close listening are needed for the material to be appreciated for what it is. Each twenty-nine-minute side advances methodically, with “Filament I” gradually expanding from a set of softly undulating tones. Every gesture assumes significance, the conspicuous change that occurs with the addition of a higher-pitched tone at the seven-minute mark a good illustration. Bathed in hiss, the frequencies play off against one another as more surreptitiously join in, the sound field expanding and contracting as the tones both incline towards one another and pull away.

Stillness doesn't mean static: micro-shifts in pitch arise during “Filament I” from the action of the tape machine mechanisms, and incremental tension builds as the tones swell into a resonant swarm. The change in sound produced by a reel slowing as tape accumulates would likely go unnoticed in a melody-based piece; in one such as this, the intensely focused listener could conceivably detect such alterations. Enhancing the listening experience is the fact that Young added to the tape's prerecorded tones in real time with pitch-shifting, a move that bolsters the visceral quality.“Filament II” perpetuates the style and character of the A-side, though the second iteration has an expanded sound design that seems to reverberate more dynamically and, with a phaser added to Young's toolkit, ebbs and flows more hypnotically. One imagines Radigue would approve.

The first thing that should be noted about Bur sting brea k'r, the debut EP by Cloud Circuit, has to do with presentation. Montreal-based Archive Officielle Publications has spared no expense on that count, with the vinyl release as much art object as standard release. Snugly housed within a transparent sleeve are the transparent 45rpm disc and a fold-out sleeve displaying lyrics and other details. On this release, Deanna Radford's credited with words, deconstructed word events, and mouth sounds and Young sine waves and mouth sounds. Guests accompany the duo, saxophonist Philippe Vandal on the first side and Alexandre St-Onge, credited with bass and laptop, the second.

Thematically and conceptually, the poetry-sound ensemble draws for inspiration from those moments where human communication breaks down, with many a lapse related to failures of technology. Fracturing of speech and electronics mirrors such collapse in the four settings, as Radford delivers her words in response to the aural frisson generated by Young, Vandal, and St-Onge. Much as communication happens in real-time, the participants engage in dialogues guided by attentive listening and improvisation.

Radford multiples her voice throughout “A letter from the cloud eternal network,” her spoken text punctuated by electronic gestures by Young and horn bleats from Vandal. Staggered in formation, sentences repeat, words splinter, and phrases flutter. Electronics sparkle in “Airbus 321” like snow crystals, the floating character of the sounds and text consistent with the musings of a traveler flying over Iceland. Speech fractures most intensely during “The speed of sound. A trail of airplane exhaust slowly.” when words collapse into single letters, Radord's exhalations and stutters amplifying the impression of breakdown. In the EP's one instrumental, the title track, all insectoid whirr and click, plunges into micro-sound territory for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it minute. However much the project is founded on principles of collapse, it ultimately transmits its message with no lack of clarity, communication in this case arriving indirectly but arriving nevertheless.

January 2021