A T O N A L  D E A T H
O L Y M P I C / D U R E S S
Apoplexy 1 • 7" Lathe Cut

Peter Wright guitar & amplified violin recordings from 1997.

That a person would name his or her band something like Atonal Death is always an opulent caution sign, the product of sulky fakers wallowing in pain-free angst or else the punch line of top-quality middle-class irony. Fortunately, with the Olympic/Duress seven-inch (Apoplexy) by the real Atonal Death (not the one on That '70s Show), neither hairlogs nor cassettes released by secondhand harlequin outfits come to mind. Instead, glorious patches of guitar mope get laid across howling scrunch. "Olympic" also boasts a skid mark density that spirals around eternal flames of falsetto mump.

Seymour Glass
Bananafish No. 13.

 

A T O N A L  D E A T H
P L A S M A
Apoplexy 2 • Cassette

Bastardised guitars and some unhinged sampler deconstruction, 1997-1998.

 

A T O N A L  D E A T H
M E C H A N I Q U E
Apoplexy 3 • Cassette

Two extended blasts of machine noise repetition with lengthy passages of grinding archaic water pipes. 1998.

 

W I T C Y S T / A T O N A L  D E A T H
H I N T E R  V I T / O P . C I T .
Apoplexy 4 • Split 7" Lathe Cut

Another scoop of electrifryed Witcyst flotsam backed with bad violin action. 1998.

 

P E T E R  W R I G H T
L P
Apoplexy 5 • 12" Lathe Cut/CDR

Treated and untreated guitars, violin, shortwave radio. 1998.

 

P E T E R  W R I G H T
M O M E N T S  O F  I N A P P R O P R I A T E  A B A N D O N
Apoplexy 7 • 2x 7" Lathe Cut

Recorded using four different instruments taped 'live' to four track. Record 1 features a bowed drone guitar piece and a very un- mandolin-like mandolin track whilst the second disc has a harrowing violin recording backed with a mesmerising piano piece to finish. 1999.

 

C M  A C O U S T I C  E N S E M B L E
L A S T  R E F U G E  O F  T H E  I N S A N E
Apoplexy 8 • CDR

The CM Ensemble in all it's varied incarnations provides an exciting & vivid brand of eclectic improv that at times sounds European, other times American, but most definately Antipodean. Drones, squalls of jazz-inflected firestorms, Feldmann-like minimalism & anything/everything inbetween, the CM Ensemble is surely one of the most exciting prospects in the new world order of collective improvisation. This disc brings to bear saxophones, bass, violin, cello, piano, percussion in a delicious combination of violent expressionism and wasted landscapes.

Even though it's all instrumental, it's segued like a concept album. What the concept is, I'm not sure...I guess all we have to go on is the titles...so, we've got "the insane," and people accuse (accouse?) them....of things....which makes their dream-distorted world more turbulent (the cloud style piano action of "The Accousers"), and leads to a culture of "Remorse" because their lot is sorry, and innocent people die, which causes more remorse, and haunts your imagination ("The Ghosts of the Innocents") until the inevitable "Descent", either of their spirits or of yours, into "the last refuge of the insane": death. Or maybe it's something else. Either way, just by listening to it, I feel like I've read a book. One I plan to reread a few more times.

Larry Fuzz-O Dolman
Blastitude

Purists beware: there's a deafening statement to be heard. The CM Ensemble takes turns hastily grafting and calmly assimilating free jazz over experimental drones, depending on the musical surgeon's needs and desires. It's compelling, artistically interesting and ultimately a barelydescribable assault of your senses and fragile emotional state. Manufacturing shock-value theatrics in this day and age may be a difficult task indeed, but the CM Acoustical Ensemble's unpredictable improvisational skills will leave you on the edge of your seat. Immerse yourself in their chaos and you will leave from this abrasive experience with a different perspective on discordant arrangements and instrumental exploration. It may be difficult to track down this New Zealand collective's work, but the acquisition of this CD is a necessity for the dedicated electro-acoustical follower, as well as for anyone wishing to expand his or her outlook on contemporary musical philosophies.

Andrew Magilow
Splendid

 

P E T E R  W R I G H T
R A D I O P L A Y
Apoplexy 9 • CDR

Created entirely from shortwave radio soundbytes and processed digitally on a mac, Radioplay moves through a landscape bereft of the organic warmth of Wright's guitar-based music (& more akin to his new project Polio). What we have instead is a solemnity that comes from an acute observation of the modern human condition; where electronic communication is paramount, and where the flood of crossed signals leave us more isolated than ever before. The mournful tones of lost information are augmented by the occasional ghostly whispers of wandering voices on the airwaves, searching for a meaning to their existence & a point of reference on their radar screens.

Though subtitled "a shortwave radio piece in 3 parts" this plays as one continuous track and it is indeed a mighty fine thing. A raw mixture of voices in many languages dominates the first 5 minutes - but soon enough a rough and dense bass-heavy drone emerges, quickly dissipating in favor of slowly moving endlessly sustained tones playing in the distance. Very trance-inducing, and not particularly 'shortwave' sounding in any way. The frequencies build (at a glacial pace) into deep layers of rich drones interrupted by a tiny, quickly panned blip that zips from left to right channel at discrete intervals. Very seductive and organic - like some of the Sigma Editions releases but a bit rougher and dirtier sonically, though still excellently recorded. As the tones slowly shift in frequency the layers of sound generate movement that flows and cascades onward into deeper and deeper waves of dense ambient noise. The shortwave voices begin to reappear around the 19-minute mark as the drone rises in pitch sharply and fades to near-silence. At the 21-minute mark (the third movement?) scratchy loops are triggered and delayed over what sounds like lo-fi morse code in the background. Fractured delicate sounds dominate a sparser mix, but the frequencies used are slightly harsher and higher in pitch. Amidst the whistle-like tones and abstract bleeps a swirling drone emerges and is sustained until the piece shuts off suddenly after 32 minutes.

Carlos M. Pozo
Angbase 7

 

This disc consists of a single track composed of computer-manipulated shortwave radio signals. Bookended by quiet sections that hover on the verge of audibility, the main body consists of theremin-style tone modulation. The result is disturbing. There is nothing human about these sounds, which conflicts with their source; because shortwave radio is a communication device, the cold, mechanical interior that Peter Wright reveals is discomfiting, suggesting that we've all been somehow duped by machines. While this interpretation may not be immediately obvious from listening to Radioplay, it fits squarely in the Musique Concrete tradition. This approach, in which the composer seeks to create links between found sound and the common understanding of music, will drive many listeners out of their minds -- much as abstract art can be taken as a random spattering of paint. Nevertheless, when an effort is made to recognize the meaning behind the process, this piece can be as satisfying as a Jackson Pollack. While this may be at odds with many conceptions of what music should be, it does present a challenging experience for more adventurous listeners.

Ron Davies
Splendid