I was first made aware of the joyful (mostly subdued) noise that New Yorker Mike Fazio produces whilst reviewing orchestramaxfieldparish Crossing of Shadows, a journey through the seamy underbelly of guitar tones and ambient rumble, that hinted at both industrial/isolationist bleakness and the tie-dyed variety of entopic drift currently doing the rounds on limited cassette releases. Fazio’s unleashed a new moniker for these new soundscapes, A Guide For Reason, apart from eschewing the odd orchestral element and delving deeper into experimental tangents, these two limited release CDs (100 of the full-length and 50 of the 3 CD) could have been quite suitably released under the orchestramaxfieldparish moniker. Actually,saying that, I’m a big fan of artists who obfuscate their sonic footprint with a panoply of monikers, just check out the work of Wolfgang Voigt or Uwe Schmidt if your want a primer on limitless non-de plumes.
A Guide For Reason sees Fazio descend further underground where hums, splutters and mysterious industrial relics moulder, and entropy reclaims what is not guarded against. Indeed, certain elements of these explorations were recorded 50 feet under the bustling terminus of Grand Central Station. “A Handful of Hours in a Split Second (The Events of an Ordinary Day Pass Like Strangers on the Street as We are Busy at Work Engineering Tomorrowland)” bursts into existence with wow & flutter, space echo, static and menace, linked together in the manner of Nurse With Wound’s mid-80s opus Spiral Insana. As this opening piece progresses a more linear narrative is suggested by the emergence of sonorous tones and space-bound pings. “The Radiant Life” satisfies fully, as uneasy chorale frequencies and muffled accents unfold a lopsided collision between Popol Vuh and Coil (the sadly missed Peter Christopherson is thanked in the liner notes). “The Important Thing is to Never Stop Questioning” sounds like a passable representation of tectonic plates shifting and groaning, as an avalanche of barely audible bass pricks the ears. Most striking is Fazio’s closing gambit “Out From Which Comes the Beginning” where rich guitar textures and manipulations are turned inwards into curious percussive simulacra, as a handheld electric fan (possibly) ricochets off the strings, like a troglodytic, sweaty Keith Rowe impersonator. Curious insects scuttle and chirrup as frenetic tinsel-tones and deep feedback resonate in synch, reminding me of the visceral impact of Oren Ambarchi’s extended techniques. The track finishes with a memorable three-minute cascade of syncopated drums slowly tweaked and layered beneath the fan-like guitar sonics.
On the three-inch CD, the shimmery textures from the initial recording session are reprised, and slowly groan and throb their way into something akin to listening to Chris Abrahams’ magnificent Play Scar from the bottom of a stormwater drain. Sine waves and crashing stochastic pulses aim for the heart of the sun, only to fall Icarus-like into an abrupt silence, followed by further sonic sorcery resonating through the hidden tunnels of Grand Central Station. For A Guide For Reason, Fazio’s Raison D’etre for this project is that “This music has no purpose other than it is”, which echoes both Everest pioneer George Mallory and the sound-for-sounds-sake ethos of generations of improvising musicians.
Oliver Laing
