Svarte Greiner — Moss Garden
The record consists of two side long pieces each deploying subtly different approaches to similar materials. Side A's The Marble is an almost frozen exploration of near infinitely extended bowed tones and bass drones making ample use of varying degrees of reverb to layer up harmonics. Where it's most effective overtones glide across the fundamental bowed pitch before seemingly catching it, shifting the note up or down. Midway a ragged drum roll emerges from the gloom moving around the stereo field adding another layer of depth. Sweetest of all I found was the surprising entrance of what sounded like tape manipulation being applied to the drums; their simple rhythm being stretched and squeezed to breaking point beyond being recognised as percussion at all. Despite its glacial pace the music is never entirely still and there's a sense throughout of a highly measured and attenuated approach to compositional interventions. For example close to the end Skodvin introduces extremely minimal tape/vinyl artefacts which click and fizz lightly over the top of the bass drones again throwing the aspect of the whole piece into another realm.
Garden takes up the length of side B opening with a series of cymbal crashes smothered in dense cavernous reverb. There's a hint of classic tape manipulation here too as the echo of the crash is moved around producing differences in the interaction of feedback, delay and reverb. Skodvin has always tended to deal in big dark spaces. There's a palpable sense of tension over the first half of Garden that wasn't present on the first track. Pitches shift uneasily against each other in contrast to the languorous drift of side A and the presence of multiple higher tones at the front of the mix, some with the timbre of a leaking steam pipe hold the track in near harrowing suspense. Just gone sixteen minutes the tension is finally released with a clang of guitar strings, reminiscent of Zelienople's bleakest productions, which act as a source of gravity pulling the other elements into alignment. The final three minutes play out with less tension, more purpose but with no less certainty or light.
Two very affective pieces of music which capture well the sense of tension and disorientation of the times. Zen music for disturbed souls indeed.