This comes in our 4 panel reverse board card package in an edition of 500.
In the spring of 2014 my wife and I stayed at a remote log cabin in the Black Mountains. Anne was taken ill from the moment we arrived and barely left the bed all week. I’d packed a laptop, small midi keyboard and portable hard disc recorder, and resolved that if we weren’t to have a break together I’d at least salvage something from the trip.
I’d spent a lot of time around then thinking about how haunted we are by our lost loved and not-so-loved ones. About how these ghosts can be more than just absences, that they can actually exist in some real sense as shadows cast by our fears and regrets. The horse-whisperer who owns the cabin told us when we arrived of the local belief that up in those mountains the veil between this world and the next is at its thinnest. From the first nightfall to the very end of our stay I felt like the atmosphere in that place was charged, agitated somehow, like everything was on the verge of cracking.
Pines groaned in the woods all around us, walls and floorboards continually creaked and china rattled on the shelves. I recorded everything that made a sound, then manipulated and distressed those recordings, letting them bleed into one another, forming their own shifting rhythms and gritty, grainy textures. I added deep sub-bass sines, electronic washes and gently improvised motifs that felt in step with the strangely watchful energy of the place. Between the crackling of the open fire and the wild, wide landscape outside, I seemed to have stumbled into the perfect environment for exploring these unsettled yet tenderly nostalgic feelings I’d been having. The music flowed.
And now – thanks to Gosia Łapsa-Malawska’s wonderfully plaintive artwork and Ian Hawgood’s passion, belief and commitment – here is Killing Ghosts, my attempt to make some sense not just of that peculiar time, but of each and every day spent without those we leave behind. – James Murray
Age of Insects is the result of a series of visits made by Mark and Laura to Stephen’s studio in Virginia between May 2009 and January 2010.
The three improvised around common interests in analog electronics and digital manipulation, field recordings and instrumental performance practice. These recordings presented here feature only minimal editing and post-production, with a primary intent of capturing shared moments of listening and response.
The titles refer to extinct insects—the imagined hum and flutter of their calls, flight and communication.
This 44 minute piece may structurally resemble a classical composition – divided as it is into several interlocking stanzas – but it’s difficult to place it comfortably within the realm of modern music. If anything, ‘The Rest….’ evokes the otherwordly, fantastical obsessions of the Victorians (Conan Doyle, Lear, Grandville, Wellcome, etc) through means of meticulously manipulated instrumentation, samples and voice.Plinth, of course, is no stranger to Victoriana.
With The Rules of Another Small World, M. Ostermeier has arrived at an elegant voice – otherworldly and strangely beautiful, much like the desolate Taiwanese San-Zhr Pod Village gracing the album cover.
While elements of electroacoustic, modern classical, jazz, glitch, drone, ambient, and even lounge weave in and out of the record’s eleven compositions, The Rules of Another Small World is the converse of an eclectic collection of songs.
Corridor8, a new international annual contemporary visual art and writing magazine, that started in 2009.
The ‘Borderlands’ edition, Strange Weather, extends our northern focus to the far-flung reaches of the UK from the midlands to the borders and beyond, and will feature the same mix of in-depth critical writing, profiles, art and literary writing we established in Issue 1..