Masayuki Imanishi: Tone
ini.itu

Wieman: Cryptonesia
ini.itu

That Japanese sound artist Masayuki Imanishi is credited on Tone's back cover with radio, paper, and field recordings (apparently debris and other objects also were involved) says much about the kind of experimental material featured on the seven-track vinyl album (250 hand-numbered copies); it's also noteworthy that the accompanying press release includes the following point of clarification: “All clicks, pops, and shuffles are intended.” Thirty minutes of enigmatic sound art explorations, each one pitched at a subdued volume level and speckled with detail, are spread across its vinyl sides.

Softly burbling microbes of alien, amorphous sound emerge in the opening track, in addition to radio noise that intrudes upon the sound field. Other settings suggest the amplified activity of an insect colony and the swirl of noisemaking that might appear on a field recording of a night-time forest; one piece could even pass for a sound portrait of Imanishi assembling something in his workshop, considering the abundance of hammering and whirring included in the piece. It's suggested that Tone should be filed next to releases by Steve Roden, Bernhard Günter, and Asmus Tietchens, a detail that in itself makes clear the kind of zone Imanishi's inhabiting on the recording.

Entirely different in character is Cryptonesia by Wieman duo Roel Meelkop (Goem, Kapotte Muziek) and Frans de Waard (Kapotte Muziek, Goem, Beequeen, Freiband). Also issued on vinyl in a 250-copy, hand-numbered run, the release is a boisterous set of plunderphonic explorations and experiments. The pair created the album's five “meltpop” (their term) productions using snippets from two obscure cassettes, Cybernetika and Cybonesia, by Cybe as springboards. Side A opens with the spirited scene-setter “Solero metall,” a frothy bit of mutant-techno, after which the energy drops for the slow-building “weirde MeCanik.” At first a microsound excavation, the track gradually develops into an elaborate cornucopia of shimmering melodies, woozy drones, and pulsing beats. Oddball electronica follows, along with a side-closer that sees snaps and kettle drums colliding with micro-traces of grinding acid.

Such settings aren't without merit, but it's the flip's side-long “Little klokkebel Swing” that's the real scene-stealer, especially when the itinerary includes eighteen clip-clopping minutes of tribal Balinese gamelan trippiness. Consistent with such a description, there's percussion aplenty but also alien vocalizations, carousel-like sounds, and, eventually, a Cluster-styled ambient-krautrock outro. Wieman would appear to be having some kind of serious fun on the recording.

May 2016

Samen met Roel Meelkop runt Hollands meest productieve kapotte muziekmaker Frans de Waard al een paar jaar het recyclagebedrijf Wieman. Voor deze mooi vormgegeven gelimiteerde (250 exemplaren) lp, haalt het duo de klankmosterd bij Cybe. Dit obscure Nederlandse project (zie ook het Syncop label) maakte begin jaren 1980 enkele cassettes met kosmische geluiden, vervormd metaal en synthesizerexperimenten, verborg zich achter extreem minimale hoesjes, en verdween dan geruisloos naar de zoeklijstjes van de echte kenner. Kortom, materiaal dat we vroeg of laat in een vierdelige vinyl-box-set zullen zien opduiken. Wieman drijft de klank meer in de richting van de experimentele tijdsgenoten van Cybe, door de brongeluiden samen te persen, uit te rekken en er loops van te maken. ‘Cryptonesia’ zal daardoor zeker gesmaakt worden door liefhebbers van de experimenteel-elektronische afsplitsingen van kosmische muziek of krautrock, genre de beginperiode van Asmus Tietchens of Cluster. In Frans de Waard zit ook een minimalistische gitarist verscholen, die Shifts heet. Nochtans opent ‘Fade (In)’ alsof er een specht in de klankkast vastgeraakt is, en de indruk dat hier klopboren aan te pas gekomen zijn, verlaat ons nooit. Uiteraard is een gitaar ook een percussie-instrument, maar hier gaan we het stottereffect eerder zoeken in de manier waarop de klanken bewerkt en tot loops verwerkt zijn. ‘Fade (In)’ wordt in een beperkte oplage op cassette uitgebracht door Maneki Neko Tapes, dat vanuit de visie vertrekt dat tapes de optimale geluidsdragers zijn. Terug naar de roots dus, want de industriële ijzervreters onder ons, zullen de labelbaas zeker nog (her)kennen als de man met het indrukwekkende nektapijt achter het label Vuz Records.

Positiv 4th Street

Wíeman is the team of two Dutch veterans, Roel Meelkop and Frans de Waard, whose unceasing activity in the multiple areas of electronic music, performance, and field recording brings new meaning to the word “prolific”. Brave the one who attempts to catalogue their output. They’ve only made four or five records under this Wíeman guise, and this particular release makes use of samples. I tend to associate de Waard especially with these very elaborate “recycling” projects, which go further than just remixing or sampling and end up as radical reconstructions of the source, on a scale which feels more like land reclamation or intensive cardboard recycling. Which isn’t to say Frans de Waard is a big vat full of mulched paper, but he does his bit for the musical culture by putting things together in a new way. Perhaps it’s more accurate to suggest that he and Roel Meelkop see the whole world as Lego bricks, and there’s no helicopter or ambulance which can’t be rebuilt as a lake full of traffic cops with shiny tropical fish.

The record before us today is called Cryptonesia (ini.itu #1501) and the source material is two cassette tapes by Cybe. I never before heard Cybe (real name Siebe Baarda), but this is excusable given that he only made three cassettes in the 1980s before dropping off the radar. One of these, Cybernetika from 1982, is quite a tasty set of electronic synthpop melodies judging by the tracks you can hear hosted on YouTube; I mean he’s not averse to a poppy beat and a snappy rubbery bassline to support his clean tunes and bold analogue warbles.

In sampling Cybe’s work, Wíeman have certainly rebuilt it to an extreme degree (see Lego analogy above; is it too late to change that to lumps of coloured Play-Dough?), and somehow ended up with something that disposes with all the enjoyable parts of the original – Cryptonesia seems uncertain, hesitant, pulling in at least three directions at once. I won’t say the beats have been taken away, but they’ve been rethought as something much more ambiguous, surfacing into the mix when you least expect it. Cybe’s original clean tones have given way to opaque, murky surfaces; it seems Wíeman can’t help dipping their paintbrushes into the colour-box for just one more additional layer. The strong patterns and loops of Cybe have been replaced by weak, mouldy textures.

Even so, there are moments on Cryptonesia which communicate a profound sense of ambiguity and confusion, as though the world of 2014 (when this was made) is nothing like the glory days of 1982 when life seemed simple and a man could skate freely down the uncluttered streets wearing a Walkman listening to A Flock Of Seagulls. Now people not only skate, they also skateboard and jog down the already over-crowded pavements, often doing all three at once, brushing citizens aside while making a jumbled statement about personal fitness and “street” culture. Another one of the final batch of ini.itu releases; the cover, credited to S/, might be an aerial view of an interesting pavement forming kaleidoscopic patterns. Evidently, this label had ambitions to be the Belgian equivalent of Touch. From 8th May 2017.

Het wordt tijd voor het boek van Frans de Waard, mét stamboom. Dit laatste niet van zijn familie, maar van de projecten waar hij zich de afgelopen decennia heeft beziggehouden. Veel. Heel erg veel. Wierman is dan weer de samenwerking met Roel Meelkop. En getweeën zitten ze ook in GOEM, THU20 en Kapotte Muziek... Tekent u de lijntjes? Wordt een leuk klusje; mooi Pollock-achtig plaatje levert die tak van de familie van de experimentele Nederlandse muziek op.

Meltpop is de term die het duo voor zijn elektronische muziek verzonnen heeft. Kan. Oververhitte machientjes die toch jolig blijven pruttelen en iets voortbrengen wat met een beetje ruimdenkende goede wil best pop genoemd kan worden. Liedjes, althans in die richting. In de samensmelting van kraut en bloedheet-zwoel stampende gabber (sic!) gebeuren volstrekt idiote dingen. Daar worden de bastaardkinderen van Glice en Gelbart geboren. Opa Asmus Tietchens knikt dat het goed is. Radio Tonka springt diep in de nacht vast een gat in de lucht. Shit & Shine klapt in de handjes. Lang leve de jolijt, compleet met iets wat op een klankschaal lijkt. Gekkenhuis, met een smiley.

WÍEMAN - CRYPTONESIA (LP by ini.itu)

Wíeman, previously known as Zèbra, consists of course of our own Frans de Waard and
long-time collaborator Roel Meelkop.
   The opener for the album is a short erratic micro techno track that reminded me
of Ken Ishi's work in the mid 90s. Whereas Ishi's bangers were intended to hit either
the dance floor or the charts, Wíeman immediately stifles the expectations that come
with that comparison; Two minutes in we get sucked into the chirping deep end, with
crispy synths, repetitive melodic phrases and slow paced developments that give the
whole thing almost an kraut rock kind of air, albeit an electronic oriental
incarnation of the kraut spirit.
   The A side features four nameless tracks while one single track covers the whole
b-side. The latter was cooked up with a similar recipe as described above, though
in this case the first eight minutes are mainly crammed with sonorous bell loops.
Quite a hypnotic, if not, almost meditative piece which has "gamelan" written all
over it. Halfway through the track loses most of its rhythmic qualities and descends
into something I can only describe as the electronic representation of an intense
tropical fever. Complex bell-like timbres gradually make way for the rhythmic
throbbing and surging of those high end synth leads that were abundantly present
on the A side, while the progressive xylophone percussion has a Sylvian/Sakamoto
kind of quality to it - that is to say it made me think of the track "Bamboo Houses".
Gave the album a couple of spins to take it all in. Great stuff.
   Furthermore, word is out that apparently in the next couple of weeks Wíeman
will release a recording of the gig they did at the album presentation night that
features parts of this LP. Check it out too, it's probably on their bandcamp. (PJN)