Contact: james(at)keraunograph(dot)org
Nebris | Bleak Angels | CD | Dystonia EK D.40
Jump to:
Special Interests, 2013
Idwal Fisher, 2013
Heathen Harvest, 2013.VIII
Morelikespace, 2013.IV
I confess I was completely unfamiliar with the work of James Hamilton; found his Bandcamp, got Bleak Angels, halfway through the second track I realized I needed it all... Not particularly harsh, rather a controlled, painstakingly applied, tempestuousness, only the merest hint of boiling over. Mr Hamilton refers to it at one juncture as “power acoustics”, but I can see where he's coming from. Sources include branches, stones, hailstorms, wind, bones, all brought to life with a compositional skill that is undeniable. I'm not sure I've ever heard anything quite like it; if so, not anything as well executed. Wonderful textural studies.
— Jason Soddy, Special Interests, 2013.IX.18
I hear Nebris and I think desolation. Long cold Antarctic winter winds up to 100mph blowing the life out of you through three layers of North Face thermal lining. Listening to this in an isolation tank would be preferable such are the gentle nuances that grace each of its tracks which are (so I'm told in the press release) achieved by amplifying organic materials such as bones and gut strings. Long cold strtches of unrelenting bleakness unfolding unto a vast treeless plain in Nowheresville, Siberia. Oddly comforting and oddly cold. Which is I suppose their intention. Not something you'd put on to do the washing up to but for those who are looking for an alternative to whale music to calm their shredded nerves then this could be the one for you.
— Idwal Fisher, Issue 8, Fall 2008
Nebris is the former Column, who have released cassettes under Dystonia since 1992, from what I can see in the label's past catalogue. The label itself has been running since 1989, stopping activities in about 2000 and having just begun a new course with this Nebris release, in April 23rd 2007. Bleak Angels is the second release under the name Nebris, the first one was Krone in 1999. It comes in a handsome digipack sleeve, with the same desolate scenery you see on the cover here repeated over and over again, yet somehow giving the impression the eye wanders over some continuity of landscape - a deformed, barren, ominous one.
Quoting from the press release: “Sounds are made from amplified organic materials (bones, gut strings) and minerals (fossils, meteorite fragments, stones)”.Interesting isn't it? Another detail worthy of note: a nebris is a garment made of fawn skin said to be worn by Bacchus, and his followers.
V begins with a leveled static noise, and some scratching sound on the background, reminiscent of a steady, continuous wind, and after a while a whistling drone is added, gradually increasing in tension and adding to the acute sensation of dejection and dreariness. By the end the drone becomes sharper, and then comes to a complete halt. In II some slowly developing, primitive rhythm pattern is starting to appear, as the drones and whistling form some sort of slow-motion choir, much like voices whispering through the breeze. IV is more harsh than the previous two tracks, and the longest one as well — it begins with an aggressive, high pitched static and proceeds to droning thunderings and what must be the sounds of the aforementioned stones, meteorites and fossils, along with some glitches and scratching sounds — it all combines to form the impression of slight, deliberate movement, like creatures rousing in the previously presented vacuum, and elevates to a climax before fading away with the same clear scratching sound the first track had begun. The cycle is completed.
A casual stroll in hell, this is, and as astute, intelligent and meticulous as to make one think whoever made this has certainly been there before. Just close your eyes and let the wind of static carry you away, and when you venture to open them again you will find yourself in a panorama of black and red, of smoke and sulfur, fire and ice, glorious buildings carved in lava, and paths etched in stone as ancient as time itself, by the footsteps of unimaginable creatures. Dare to look upon them impartially, and you will see them peering out of their abodes, looking back at you, their residences extending as far as the eye can see, down into the immeasurable deep. You can hear their voices merging in a collective burst of wind, as if trying to convey a message in some old, unfamiliar language, perhaps the most important of all, the one you sometimes grasp when on the verge of sleep, or on the verge of wakefulness, but you forget what it was as soon as you set foot in the so-called “objective reality”. This release reminded me a lot of Barlowe's Inferno, and it would indeed be a fitting soundtrack to browsing through his work. But what one sees in these predicaments is very much dependent on what one is willing to see, and moreover what they are personally inclined to. Don't be scared, take these first few steps and the sounds will lead you further into the firestorm — who knows, this demonic conflagration might prove less intimidating than you had thought it would, and in its crystallized lava might be reflected a different kind of beauty. The beauty of fallen angels.
— Heathen Harvest, 2007.VIII
This is one of those releases that could be termed "ambient music" at a cursory listen. That's normally a polite way of saying that something functions as background noise, but lacks the personality to stand by itself. And what a sad mistake it would be to leave it at that.
The fact is that the album's three lengthy tracks show chthonic depths and an alternate world's worth of organic, expansive sound churning beneath the seemingly placid surface. This is music to listen to when you're ready to examine the inner landscape of your mind.
The album's first two tracks in particular are models of restraint, forcing the listener to focus or be left behind, compressing an atmosphere's worth of pressure into just over thirty minutes. The final, and longest, track raises the ante. the textures become more shrill, more abrasive, more unsettling, which, after the sensory-deprivation-chamber-hallucination ambiance of the first two tracks, can be heart-stopping.
As aggressive, unsettling and natural as the shifting of tectonic plates.
— Kate MacDonald, Morelikespace, 2007.IV