If you're unacquainted, you're well overdue
So far in this series, we've mostly focused on spotlighting truly "emergent" artists in the sense of being relatively up-and-coming musicians, but the concept was also developed with the country's longer-standing yet lesser-recognised sound-smiths in mind.
Now, we've been back at it, doing this series again, for a few weeks solid now, and it's pretty consistently been accessible, enjoyable independent tunes since the revival. Nothing wrong with that, don't get me wrong — but it's probably time for a shake-up, no? Make This Column Great Again, but in a way less racist way than that phrasing implies.
Right, then. Hold onto your butts, 'coz it's about to get gloriously fuckin' weird in here.
How to describe the indescribable?
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You may not have heard of him but, in certain circles, Brisbane's Lawrence English is an institution unto himself. A self-styled 'philosopher of listening' who has crafted an absolutely jaw-dropping body of work over his long, broad career as a sound artist, English will challenge you — frequently — as well as your understanding of musicality and spatial/aural relationships. But, then, that's all part of the allure.
With an online catalogue that dates to 2000, spanning nearly 30 releases — and that is best listened-to through headphones — it can be difficult to know where to start, especially since there's not exactly a catchy hit single to ease you in with.
Best dive straight into the deep end, then — and learn to swim quick. English's upcoming album, Cruel Optimism, is set for release on his self-started imprint, Room40, this coming January and, so far, just one of the album's 10 tracks is freely available on the ol' BC — Object Of Projection () — but it stands as as good an introduction point to the veteran sound-smith's expansive, exploratory, experimental approach to all things listenable as you'll likely find. He describes the wider record as a consideration of power both "present and absent … meditat[ing] on how power consumes, augments and ultimately shapes two subsequent human conditions: obsession and fragility".
Though a prolific composer in his own right, English's considerable oeuvre has partially been made possible by his frequent collaborations. Aside from the litany of musicians with whom he worked on Cruel Optimism, he recently teamed up with Jamie Stewart, of cult-favourite experimental-noise-rock-and-beyond project Xiu Xiu, to create Hexa: Factory Photographs, a soundtrack for a David Lynch exhibition serving as an exploration of the passing of the industrial age. The opening track, Sledge, drones and buzzes for nearly five minutes, churning and grinding and sighing as though the dawn of industry itself is breathing to life and seeping outward into the ears, keeping the listener fixated despite the sense of absence.
There are no verses here, no choruses or hooks to speak of, and yet — with tags ranging from 'electronic' and 'industrial' to 'post-classical', 'post-minimal' and, well, 'post-everything' — these works can still be, if you're willing to let them, transportive and utterly hypnotic. Indeed, there are near-20-minute releases here that are essentially sparsely produced field recordings; Ghost Towns (2003) is an "abstracted impressionist sound portrait", utilising cicadas, drums popping in the sun and resonating wire fences, while 2005's Liminology makes use of hydrophonics — water recordings.
That's not to say that English has totally forsaken all sense of traditional musicality — delve deep enough into his sizeable catalogue and you'll find plenty of work that is more recognisably melodic: for example, his 2000 collaboration with Al Yamamoto, Plateau, still dabbles in ambience and atmosphere but features identifiable instrumentation, in plinking pianos, floating guitar, even the humble music box. So it's not a catalogue without moments of relative ease and understanding.
All said and done, there's an absolute treasure trove to explore here, and no better day to spend some time doing some sonic digging into the works of one of Queensland's most intriguing and influential outsider-artists.
Look, I promise I'll be less progressive with this next week. I'd just like to think we've all learnt a little something recently about only ever exposing ourselves to things that are safe and comfortable, so you're going to eat this and you're going to damn well enjoy it, masses.
Are you an independent artist/in an independent band? Got a Bandcamp page (because the title really doesn't work without it)?
Let us know if you want us to listen to your tunes, and you might get featured in a future edition of This One Time, On Bandcamp!