Among the liner notes of this debut release from Brooklyn native Corridors aka Byron Westbrook is a sentence which advises the following: “This recording is best heard through high quality headphones or played at a relatively high volume through loudspeakers spread far apart.” After reading such a line, I knew I’d be enjoying what was enclosed. Each piece is either a recorded live performance or a processed composite of several performances, and such is the quality of each recording that it sounds like a studio release; each texture is rich, and every slow moving note is captured in its original timbral glory.
Beginning slowly, “Autoharp, Trumpet, Guitar” builds gently in volume over its 15 minute length, as heavily processed pieces of each instrument slide gently over one another in a sea of textures and processed feedback. I suppose the easiest way to describe it would be something akin to an ocean, perhaps moving in slow motion, as each instrument rolls and swells before another rises to take its place. As each piece is layered over another, so too are they gently peeled back, turning the whole piece into a “sideways bracket” like waveform. “Bminor Guitar Feedback” needs no explanation really; although it isn’t anywhere near as harsh as you might surmise. Again this piece steadily builds in volume and intensity as each component is introduced, proceedings turn organ like, before tickles of restrained distortion threaten to take over. Though quickly restrained, the track fades wistfully off, as “Viola, Organ, Electronics (part one/part two)” crackles into view. Taking up the remaining 22 minutes, the 2 tracks are essential the same, comprising of a total of 5 live performances composited together to form one cohesive whole. Easily the most dark work sonically speaking, “Part one” is quite an ominous affair, pitch bends slowly rise and fall like a dense fog on a dark night. “Part two” takes a slightly brighter path, if only in frequency. Whirling organs and processed guitars roll over one another, and i actually caught myself thinking how similar it sounded to Ben Frosts’ Steel Wound LP. Over time the piece changes direction, and strips back to a more melodically driven middle section, as each instrument rotates in a canon like fashion. As the canon rebuilds amongst processed electronics, suddenly it all fades off, as gentle organ chords see out the dying seconds.
As Technical Co-ordinator for Phill Niblock’s Experimental Intermedia Foundation since 2004, Westbrook certainly has an artistic pedigree, one which is on shown throughout this gorgeous slow moving exploration of texture. Enclosed in an enlarged jacket cover adorned with still photos of accompanying video from several of the performances, this package has it all. Highly recommended.
Nick Giles
