Addleds explores timbral and textural extremes of distended instrumental technique via improvisation and open-ended compositional strategies. Their music tends towards a brutalist minimalism as informed by the noise underground as by recent developments in the field of free improvisation.
Lance Grabmiller and I have been partners in shudder (with Phillip Greenlief) since 2004, on double reeds and digital electronics respectively. In 2012, we began exploring a duo configuration employing exclusively modular analog electronics. The results have thus far been delightfully nasty, unapologetically invoking our mutual love of old-school industrial crunch. Our opening salvo is available as a FREE DOWNLOAD.
“. . . if I closed my eyes, I managed a vague, if largely false, memory of being present at a Smithsonian Folkways recording session in some obscure basement in Mumbai or Tunisia. A mad rumba line was twisting insect—like through the cabaret, driven in their frenzy by the rubber mallets and honking legbone flutes of the featured musicians. At one side of the room, a group of Fez-appareled recording technicians could be seen working diligently on some ancient machinery. . .”
“This began as an ill-tempered lowercase/eai duo recording session, and over the course of 3+ years somehow mutated into a snarling, campy hybrid exorcising some long-dormant adolescent industrial dance demons. Avant snobs with a Skinny Puppy skeleton in their closets will be delighted. . .”
“. . . Clatter and scrapes derived from highly amplified, unidentifiable sources give the music a bracing tactility, and a meticulous sound mix suggests three-dimensionality. The constantly changing array of foreground activity and subtly morphing environments produce a gripping suspense that complements the stunning tonal palette.” (Peter Margasak, Downbeat)
Various post-avant spectrums toyed with but tossed out the window for rock, except what exactly is rock? One man’s Sabbath is another man’s Butthole Surfers. One is feeling Floyd while another is feeling DNA & yet another thinking mid period Crimson & another early period Crimson & then someone is somehow thinking James Tenney… The verite m.o. of the first album is forgotten – this thing expands freely in four dimensions, becomes massive. There is no hope for this music – it’s impossible.” (Sickroom press release)
“Eerie, spacious, electronic and other odd sounds are carefully placed upon clouds of silence, drifting or floating in the air. Static, quiet yet effective spurts, analogue synth fragments, music concrete snips, all well crafted and selectively placed.” (Bruce Lee Gallanter, Downtown Music Gallery)
“Thick, analog-synth black-hole dronisms and metallic percussive clatter meld with assorted reeds—all swimming in the deep end of 1980’s industrial/improv sprawl. . . This is not noise as it is currently understood. Rather, Bleaks ravage with precise subtlety and a surgical moodiness that is frankly unsettling.” (Wodger press release)
“Composed of microscopic electronics, floating brass instrument tones and prepared/tabletop guitar events, Group — paradoxically — rocks. . . The music is quiet but not undemanding, careful listening yielding subtle vistas and engaging sonic environments. . . The pieces arise, unfold and then depart with a stately logic all their own. . . Group is a fine example of the kind of genre hybridisation that typifies early 21st century music. (Bruce Russell, The Wire)
“…these are musicians whose sense that conscious restraint can be enablng is coupled with a deep concern for sonic content… Their music is gradual and relatively stark. . . There’s an air of serious investigation taking place – close attention to elements combined, interacting and mutating. The sounds carry weight and are made to matter. It’s sound-led music, but the musicians are making the right choices, and from that Wane acquires its quiet intensity.” (Julian Cowley, The Wire)
“Pink Mountain improvise with impunity through anguished prog-metal, squalling jazz-rock, and the agitated, gnarled-to-hell dirges that pocked the weirder end of SST Records’ catalog. Pink Mountain’s self-titled CD is a bracing ordeal, portending an overwhelming live show.” (Dave Segal, The Stranger)
“…this pair of improvisations sound like AMM plugged into a stack of Marshall amps, a monstrous Metal/free jazz-inspired meltdown that goes beyond the usual industrialised churn by experimenting with different modes of expression. Gaping Maw spark off each other with all barrels blazing, constantly projecting and reflecting back ideas as the volume of their improvisation intensifies or subsides into a shrouded, echoing drone state.” (Edwin Pouncey, The Wire)
“…a clattery, distorted racket… Cheap organ and synthesizer, clanking percussion, clobbered drums and cranked-up bass work up stop-start patterns that sound like progressive rock locked in a dank boiler room…. Every so often, someone howls a line like “What are we waiting for?” amid the din, or the music switches to a sardonic oom-pah. All the lurching and buzzing is invigorating and hilarious, unless you’re prone to motion sickness.” (John Pareles, New York Times)
“EKG is capable of a langorous lyricism while in other cases this tendency is willfully crushed and ground down into a gritty landscape of fine-grained glass and silt. Open and inviting tones draw the listener in at the same time tenser noisy outbursts work to alienate. Tightly controlled grainy textures splutter to life and dissolve into hovering drones. The sequencing can be jarring, but the effect is of an irregular pendulum’s swing – a fevered and woozy oscillation through tension and release.” (Steve Rybicki, fakejazz.com)
“. . . a set of six austere, slow moving soundscapes in keeping with the prevailing tendency in new improvised music to move away from rapid-fire interplay towards territory more traditionally associated with contemporary classical and electronic music. . . patient exploration of the microtonal and micro-timbral inflections of long-held tones, which combine with Karel’s plaintive trumpet and the grainy analog electronics, blasts of white noise and crackling static to create music of an extraordinary intensity which richly repays repeated listening.” (Dan Warburton, Paris Transatlantic Magazine)