Wilderness And Luxury bandcamp album image

Wilderness And Luxury (CS/digital, Dasa Tapes, 2022)

Wilderness And Luxury is my first album of creative music since 2018’s Beginners, and like last year’s Fraufraulein tape Solum, feels to me like creative practice and language catching up with my life in California. In other ways, I hear materials that I’ve been working with for years finding new expressions and clarity.

As ever, a poetry of personal language and public topographies, a potential for our inner language and responses to find a relationship together. A reckoning of the distance between people, shaped by our engagement with the world around us. Over the past 4 years of my life, I began to understand this topography as wilderness and luxury.

Similar to how Solum brought into relief the required changes of our relocation on how Andy & I create collaborative music, the materials and processes we have stuck with, and those that have lost connection, or are in ways unavailable to us right how, Wilderness And Luxury is my language changed. I think all of the electronic material was recorded on the floor of our bedroom in February and March of 2020, with headphones, over the low vibration noise of the large kitchen exhaust fan, above our ceiling, from the restaurant below our apartment.

The sunrise will flood our windows, we can see the trees from the same view, and on clear nights the colors of sunset reflect onto the city to our east. The sound of recycling and compost trucks wakes me most mornings, but the bus stops at the far end of the block are not as insistent. Climbing the small hill that crests our street, the mountains are visible across the bay. I spent a lot of time over the past two years out in this topography with our child, just going where we go and seeing what we see. The trees and the water is so close, a city has laid itself through and upon this, then wrapped itself with the same trees and water.

The selection, editing, mixing and sequencing of what has become Wilderness And Luxury took place mostly through the spring and early summer of 2020, with small adjustments as I lived with this work. Some of the field recordings are from our time in California, some are archival.

If you are not into bandcamp, or paypal, or venmo, or money, please hit me up and I will get you music.

Beginners in Tabs Out

Tabs Out covers Beginners and the rest of this batch of tapes out now from Dinzu Artefacts:

Gray Lee writes about Beginners:

A sonic playground of organic tactile sensations. Eerie air moves through hollow tunnels filled with unusual fragments of forgotten lives. Quiet inspections of abandoned possessions take place in shadowed dusty alcoves. Unseen breezes sway aluminum sculptures in filtered sunlight. Is this recording for beginners, who are just starting to explore a hidden world? Explore that world yourself, and you may begin to know.

A Changed Meaning in The Alcohol Seed

Lovely and thoughtful examination of A Changed Meaning in The Alcohol Seed:

“…no bullshit…”

check out the writeup at the following link or read on below:

https://alcoholseed.com/2018/01/28/like-mountain-air-billy-gombergs-a-changed-meaning/

The prolific electroacoustic artist and Fraufraulein member, Billy Gomberg, had an eventful 2017. A Changed Meaning was one of two tapes to see the light of day throughout the year — the other, Transition, was released by Dinzu Artifacts (just named Experimedia’s favourite label of 2017). You might say that A Changed Meaning is Gomberg sticking to his bread and butter, but, even though the formula is a familiar one, it doesn’t mean it hasn’t been refined. This might be conjecture, but the contemporary stage for minimalist experimental music seems no longer set for improvisation and guitar drone. Much of what’s been coming down the pike sounds more manufactured than played, donning an algorithmic gloss I don’t always care for.

A Changed Meaning is a refreshing rebuttal to these pillowy works, the album possessing a quality of performance much like a handmade ring carries the mark of its silversmith. Like mountain air, Gomberg’s dronescapes are cold, diaphanous, and expansive. The music has a harsh noise physicality to it, where the harsh aspect is replaced with moodiness and foreboding. From these blackened, nebulous compositions we’re given a window into a world of finer textures that exist closer to the core: purposeful and calculable string vibrations brought to life by electromagnetic pulses. Whatever else is going on is hard to say — some electroacoustic wizardry no doubt. What is apparent is that Gomberg can reign in this music at will, and he does so at pivotal moments to keep his pieces on course.

A Changed Meaning doesn’t push boundaries, nor does Gomberg attempt to reinvent drone music here. What we have instead is a another solid release from a dependable musician. I can appreciate a lofty epic as much as the next guy, but the albums that tend to hold the most clout over time are the straightforward, no bullshit ones. Time will inevitably tell, but I think Gomberg has achieved this with A Changed Meaning. Here’s to hoping we see more work from him in 2018.

A Changed Meaning on AGB’s 2017 list

“Gomberg has an average of about 2 releases a year for the past 10 years and while everything I’ve heard is fantastic, A Changed Meaning is certainly one of the best things he’s done, it’s super soft, light & airy, although not very bright, there’s a pervasive gloom settled just beneath the surface, and I’m amazed at how dynamic this record is without resorting to drastic volume changes.”

drone through the drone list here: http://www.antigravitybunny.com/?p=11317