White is a strange ambitious and intriguing document. Conceptually it’s packaged like an artefact, with an abundance of white, a digi pack with a blown out image of a horse beside a tree, washed out in the whiteness to the extent that it feels like you are looking at the image through fog. Then there’ the six page interior booklet, of well, nothing but white, which is really nothing at all, just blank pages. With this kind of introduction the music could be anything, perhaps icy electronica or deep peaceful ambient soundscapes, yet that would be too easy, as ultimately exactly what White is remains wilfully inconclusive. It is quite incredible however, marrying field recordings of rain and birds with the noodling of bass, flute, voice, keyboards, and strings. It has a childlike feel, the music seems to happen, as opposed to following any rigorous compositional intent. There are similarities in tone to Yoshimi and Yuka’ (Ipecac) tender experimentation as they took a bunch of instruments up a mountain in Japan or even Leighton Craig and Eugene Carhesio’ Leaves (Naturestrip) where they engaged in a little bit of noodling in a Brisbane back garden. However the difference is that whilst these artists played instruments in a specific location, these field recordings were added later. It’s epic in scope, clocking in at 77 odd minutes, yet it also feels quite aimless, like Krutogolov has no specific destination in mind, or if he does he’ quite content to take the long way there. In this sense there are definite links to ambient music as this is music that immediately evokes a specific change in atmosphere and alters your mood and perception, possibly through the hypnotic repetition of the underlying synth line. There are also definite similarities to DJ Olive’ Sleep (Room40), as this is an album that eschews conventional compositional wisdom, instead utilising some kind of sub conscious logic to weave the disparate paths together.
Bob Baker Fish
