Anzio Green dabbles in strange frequencies and imaginative pairings of acoustic instrumentation with electronics over long tracks that ebb and flow through long surges and tidal recessions, in a structured yet oblique way.
Mark Streatfield and Wil Bolton – who also run Rednetic and Boltfish recordings, respectively – splash these imaginary spaces of alien energies and electronic serpentine crackle with streaks of guitar, piano, and organ, investing them with real depths, allusions, echoes, hidden pathways and magick. For the most part, though not always, they eschew obvious rhythms and beats, creating instead an organic sense of timelessness: moments of microrhythm pulse and dissolve, or swell into grand sweeps of melody.
The title track begins with a close approximation to the sound of surf washing up against the shore, before a wave of drones comes in, bringing with them an array of smashed electronic slivers, shards of choral sounds and noise. Flavors of an almost Arabic sort are introduced alongside melodic motifs, lending a grandeur of scope to the portentous tidal bend of the backing instrumentation.
Slightly diminishing the force of such pieces is the simple fact that the electronic fireworks and digital dust sparkle and rotate into aural focus somewhat too easily and quickly, breezing by on a fairly conventional note. The later tracks, such as “Distant Mountains” and “Sun Dried River” are harder to describe, however, and that’s something of a compliment. They remain expansive, immersive pieces, yet they also encourage one to remain at a distance, and in so doing, see how detail, dynamism, and sonic tension play their parts.
Max Schaefer
