Packard’ machines process traditions by bringing them into a tense proximity with each other, broadening their dynamics, and forging a dense DNA patchwork, which is played with a casual virtuosity. Many tracks display a strident adherence to the formal structures of breakbeat-oriented microsound and ambient music, letting them unfold like two broad lengths of ribbon. In so doing, Packard teases out nuances of sound. The title track has a loping house gait which whirls through swathes of synth spread like mist across an open field. Asides from acting as a counterpoint to the incessant beat, this amorphous background opens up a space within which flickering metallic accents are dispersed and organised, giving the piece a more well-rounded ambit.
The rhythmic nature of the work continues on into others such as ‘A Place Worth Keeping (Part 1)’ and ‘Kelp Sway’. Both pieces, though controlled, present an exuberant and aggressive clash of styles, which often thrum with energy as they shake and expand. A static rhythm cuts through the oscillating frequencies and waves of textural abstraction, but is then itself overshadowed by a thickening cloud of gossamer samples, as though the component parts were competing with one another. It’s these tiny but hypnotic shifts that summon one’ attention. Only when these elements achieve a certain harmony at the expense of the essential duel antagonistic aura that compositions lose their pull. By and large, though, an articulate frenzy predominates, an interplay of sounds that are bold and sensitive in their treatment of space and absolute abstraction.
Included is Unsimulatable, a DVD which stands as the fruit of some two years of collaboration between Packard and visual artist Joshue Ott. The latter utilises a digital tablet and pen on SuperDraw, a program which forms a cycle between the movement of Ott’s pen and the lines which follow after it. Similarly, the music on this disc references itself, feeding on incestuous transactions with its own image until a threshold is reached and the swollen, sticky tones shift into erratic, harsh textures and subterranean menace. From this death, the energy of pieces is renewed and reorganised. At just over half an hour, the disc works more with pitch, arpeggio and the exploration of hidden textural sonorities. In its swift transitions and transformations, it is a more than capable counterpart to the first album.
Max Schaefer
