Old: Formula
- last look
- break [you]
- devolve
- underglass
- thug
- rid
- amoeta
James Plotkin invades your airwaves with a deluge of analog loops and tapes
that seem to dull your senses and wish you had something else to play on you CD
player. I hesitate to call this music ambient but it borders on the fringes of
acoustic ambient rhythms for the amount of music being looped but the
arrangement contains an inordinate amount of guitar work and noise
experimentation to truly fall under that particular taxonomy. In fact while the
music appears to be a complex selection of harmonic and dissonant tones derived
from analog and digital devices it ends up sounding rather flat and monotone
and almost droning. The music lacks any sense of a pulse and becomes instead
that annoying noise you scream at your neighbors to shut off at early hours of
the morning because it upsets the delicate balance of your inner ear and
subconscious concentration. I kind of wonder if they piped this stuff into
Muzak, if the clerical staff of some large company would all go off and become
the next starring role of "Falling Down." Maybe I'm being a little extreme with
my boredom but something is definitely lacking in my imagination as to why this
album doesn't ebb with any degree of aural articulation.
Old is:
James Plotkin - music
Alan Dubin - words
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