4 out of 5

Label: VHF

Producer: Simon Wickham-Smith

OMG do YOU like drone music?  ME TOO!  Totally!  …Sometimes.   …Not super often.  I mean, drone is drone, as noise is noise, two extremes where concepts of song are either stretched to minimal or maximal ends of the top-tapping spectrum.  W-Smith’s work with frequent collaborator Richard Youngs is frequently gorgeous; W-Smith’s electro tendencies plus religious music influences (something something he grew up some type of Buddhist, perhaps?) are perfectly balanced by Youngs’ fey folk leanings to create some far-out there psycho explorations.  Solo, not lashed to any hint of rhythm, W-Smith varies between annoying (purposefully so, I’d say), and fascinating.  ‘Butterfly Dust’ is absolutely the latter, though I must admit that the listen is totally dominated by opening 30 minute party blase ‘Objects Appearing’, even though there’s a sister track on the latter half – ‘Foralicem’ – at twenty minutes which isn’t nearly as compelling.

But to re-underline – this is still drone.  However, it’s an example of what the genre can and perhaps should (in my opinion) do – extrapolate music in a way that makes you hear something in a fresh light.  On ‘Objects,’ the held notes that suddenly blossom into a shift in pitch after ten minutes are so striking it can halt you in your tracks; the resonant tones and floating vocals bring to mind Lucier’s ‘Room’ recording, but only if that had been done recorded as something to be listened to and not ‘experienced’.  It’s a track that could go on forever, floating in and out of your senses, and it’s truly only effective in this extended format.  Relatively briefly, then, we get some reed instrument solo – ‘Qqmutiik’ – which, although amateurish at points with the notes wavering, is an interestingly thin sounding juxtaposition to the richness to which the previous track eventually builds.  The closer, all 20 minutes of didgeridoo, is something of a blend of both styles in that it has the raw playing style of ‘Qqmutiik’ but trades ‘Objects’ sense of evolution for the deep tones of the ‘roo.  As mentioned, it’s not truly as attention grabbing as where the disc begins, but it also takes an instrument I think we associate with jungle scenes in movies and turns it into a foreboding burnout, every stretched note hinting at a change around the corner before we hit the same note again.  To which you could say I’m stretching for analysis, but whatever W-Smith’s motivation, the track makes its presence known without really annoying or boring; it offers space and time to reflect on what you’re hearing.

With delightfully unusual VHF art stylings.  If the label’s psych output is your thang, this is far from that.  But if you dig minimalism or drone, I’d say this is a required listen.