Helium Clench is the twitchy microtonal work of Melbourne musicians Tim Catlin and David Brown (Candlesnuffer). Both of these artists are guitarists whose extended techniques push their instruments far beyond conventional musicality into uniquely textural realms. That said they both aren’ afraid to pick up other objects, in fact recently Catlin has developed an ensemble based around the use of microtonal rod instruments, with the sound for his Overtone Ensemble coming via the reverberations of these instruments when stroked.
This album, their debut as a duo is remarkably varied in approach. In the main they shy away from musicality, using everything from bowed guitars and objects, all manner of guitars, lawn bowls (?) and guitar pedals. Guitars are prepared, strings are bowed, objects shaken and whilst the sounds and textures are captivating, they seem to have a conniption anytime they approach musicality or cohesion. The strange thing is that amongst the squeals, plicks, the drones, the wails of instruments or strings under pressure, you can almost hear musicality hinted at, lurking on the outer reaches of the sound. Or perhaps you can convince yourself you can, that all of this sound, the stop start and the seemingly nonsensical and random array of ingredients is all about the absence of the one thing you want the most but can’ quite hear.
All of the various ingredients are highly articulate, and it’s impossible not to react to and become over time intoxicated with the timbre. Beyond this questions arise. As the tunes gurgle and squeak, reverberate and clench it’s impossible not to wonder about the structure. There seems to be little that’s predetermined. These pieces don’ build up in density or tension, in fact the dynamics feel barely controlled, happening at inopportune moments with little care for the development of the piece as a whole. There are moments of cohesive beauty, where a tune is granted some repetition to create a skeletal base for other sounds to be loaded upon – yet this rarely continues for any lasting period. In this sense it’s all a little difficult. What are you meant to hold on to?
The interaction between the duo is fascinating. Nowhere is this more apparent and captivating than on the second track on side B, Ring Accretion, one of the more obviously electronic pieces here, where close knit string manipulation is transformed via pedals and there is something quite beautiful about the interaction between the electrics and the amplified percussive sounds of objects being manipulated. Whether it means anything beyond the notion of seductive weirdness is open to conjecture. The piece doesn’ seem to go anywhere in particular, yet its still the strongest and somehow most satisfying work here.
But that’s what this album does to you. Beyond timbre for timbre’ sake, which admittedly is seductive enough particularly when recorded and articulated this well, there’ not a lot to hold to either conceptually or structurally. So what’s left? One thing you notice very clearly is that the duos intent does not waver. They know exactly what they’re doing and they do it. You may not necessarily understand it, but Sieve is undeniably cohesive. In this sense listening to electro acoustic albums like this can become akin to being a detective, perhaps the most interesting thing being that it’s rarely about the music itself and mostly about you.
