“As a saxophone player and composer who has integrated electronics in my music for many years, I wanted to experiment with the reed quintet – typically a classical chamber music format – by opening it up with improvisation and electronics… it ended up as a curious assemblage at the intersection of electronic music, noise, free jazz, and modern chamber music.”
“…Wrack is currently supporting what might be its greatest achievement: . . .a four-part suite inspired by the novels of Thomas Pynchon. Bruckmann embeds fast-flying tropes and melodies from classic jazz in his shape-shifting compositions—a kind of nod to Pynchon’s referential gamesmanship—and Wrack negotiates the tricky tunes with its usual breathless precision, adding a satisfyingly off-kilter swing and infectious sense of fun that I’ve never heard from the ensemble before.” (Chicago Reader)
Kyle Bruckmann & Lance Grabmiller – analog electronics. Cassette (with download card) in a limited edition of 40. Featuring design by Pan Pan/Joshua Tabbia, and texts pilfered from Matt Shears’ 10,000 Wallpapers, Brooklyn Arts Press, used by permission.
“. . . There are moments in these pieces that explore the tension and interaction between noise and melody, acoustic and electronic sounds, the acousmatic blurring of sound sources, the subversion of the traditional conceptions of foreground and background events, notated structural materials that function invisibly within the music, and improvisations that can be difficult to determine where they lie on the spectrum of fixity and flux. . .”
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.
“. . . So if we read Technological Music as impressive mimicry or as high-level homage, either way we have to stop and ask: What’s the point? Haven’t we already hashed out this debate? . . . Bruckmann’s achievement is more than a stunt. It’s not just a love letter or a piss-take. . .” (Dusted Magazine)
“. . . unusually harsh outliers . . . oddly stuck in time, channeling a panicked late-Bush era Zeitgeist (the aetheric intrusions transmitted through my Z-vex pedal are, if I’m not mistaken, the ravings of a radio shock jock regarding Fidel Castro’s stepping down).” Lathe-cut 7″, ltd edition of 30.
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.
“Any attempt to pin down Bay area musician Kyle Bruckmann is a study in futility. Here’s someone who jumps from collective improvisation to the skronk-rock of the group Lozenge to jagged compositional forms for improvisation with his group Wrack to electro-acoustic explorations with his duo EKG . . . ‘On Procedural Ground’ is a great place to hear how all of this comes together.” (Point of Departure)
“The onetime Chicagoan started Wrack as a jazz-oriented project, but over time he’s come to focus more and more on jagged themes, unwieldy time signatures, and tricky pinpoint interplay (a la Anthony Braxton), all played with the postpunk energy of his old band Lozenge . . . Drummer Tim Daisy and bassist Anton Hatwich make for a whirlwind rhythm section, and when they buckle down and play hard they sometimes seem to splinter the front line with their momentum as they signal the rapid-fire shifts in Bruckmann’s knotty, episodic compositions.” (Chicago Reader)
“. . . 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)