Andreas Brandal — Into Thin Air

Here’s a very professionally presented tape from Sweat Lodge Guru, with dapper inlay artwork, inlay printing and on-tape printing. The sounds inside are evidence of a lot of effort too. The cassette has nine tracks (spread across both sides) of dark, eerie sound-scapes. I wouldn’t personally consider them to be particularly akin to soundtracks, but that should give you a sense of their territory.

Restraint and ease are the order of the day here; the overall sound is subtle and unhurried, often with just a few elements circling each other. I’ve said “ease” but I should say “unease”, since the general atmosphere of the tape is one of dread; though not exactly a deathly dread - more perhaps the unsettling feeling of being in a forest at night and looking up at the sky: beautiful, magical, even psychedelic; but also unsettling and dwarfing. As exceptions to this, there are two tracks with a more overtly sinister tone: “A Midnight Visitor”, with a grinding and groaning accordion, followed by some tense cello; and “It Walks By Night”, which is a dark procession performed on synthesizer - with a very science-fiction result.

Brandal has a nicely pared palette - essentially a guitar and some kind of synth. Woven around these are field recordings, and a little accordion and cello. The guitar is used particularly well, taking several guises and never sounding stale or samey. As I’ve already said, Brandal is in no rush with these tracks, and sounds creep and tip-toe along, unforced. This doesn’t exactly mean a predominance of droning - though there are several drones, all with different characters. “Invisible Green” has a reverberating drone, over which is laid some very wooden-sounding guitar; the next track, “Shadow”, has a much lusher drone, with guitar harmonics pealing over the top and, coming at the end of the tape, “A Premonition” settles into a thick “casio” drone after some resonant, pulsing and disorientating synthesizer loops. Should all this suggest a very “clean” sound, it should be noted that there are numerous field recordings scattered in and around the tracks: background footsteps, clanking, scratching, unintelligible noises. Where there isn’t an obvious drone, there’s often still a subtle sense of movement and propulsion - the tracks may not be hurried, but they don’t stand still either. They’re often little ideas explored well, with tracks having a very natural length and pace; although I feel like the last track wanted to go on longer. This is a minor quibble.

This is a cassette with a little self-contained world in it. A little world portrayed through very expansive sounds. If not exactly soundtracks, then perhaps the pieces are more sound-poems; illustrating a narrative defined by the track titles.