#tāmpurā
The newest release from Crash SymbolsisHyphae, which was composed and produced by Andrea Rusconi under the name PAQ. The A-side is awash in balearic vibes, with music touching on downtempo tropicalia, fuzzy psychedelia, slow surf exotica, and stoned acid jazz. As for the B-side, Rusconi presents compelling combinations of sunrise-soaked tāmpurā drone, deep space synth slop, dopamine bebop, new age tribal, and solar flare ambient. The focus throughout is less on progression or transition, as almost every track locks early into a heady hypno-groove—or into spell of hypnagogic ambient—and from there, Rusconi and his collaborators paint the air in otherworldly hues while using subtle layering to generate mesmerizing displays of energy and motion. As such, the album is well named, and each song can be interpreted as a slowly advancing hypha…a tendril of lysergic sound twisting and winding into a grooving structure, which then grows together with other similar—yet distinct—threads of organic audio mysticism to form a complex body of mind-altering magic.
PAQ - Hyphae (Crash Symbols, 2021)
The title track opens in a natural setting, as whooshing winds join a panorama of birdsong. Star-trail feedback tracers introduce a bassline comprised of big buzzing space subsonics, and a horizontal groove emerges around it, built from ticking cymbals and rhythm box hand drums. Arpeggios like diamonds flitter about the spectrum and sampled choirs pulse in and out of the stereo field…their breathy songs helping to give things the air of a rainforest river trek, with a vibe not unlike fell Italian adventurers Lorenzo Morresi and Walter Quiroga. LSD-laced squelch solos cycle above balmy grooves of tropical electro-lounge, zipping laser wisps intermingle with garbled broadcasts from faraway solar systems, careening delay oscillations spiral out of control, and what sounds like solar organ drones are buried beneath layers of acidic liquid…like a screaming Afro-jazz siren sitting just out of reach. Then, as the rhythms disperse, basslines walk a seaside oasis rendered in tones of melted crystal, wherein drunken music boxes morph into alien radars. Next comes “Atomic Samba,” the name of which almost says everything there is to say. Riffing wah guitars and bulbous basslines bring in a shuffling island funk groove, with touches of Latin romance kissing the equatorial vibrations. Rimshot and snare hypnotics keep the mind entranced while kick drum and frogsong bass pulse deep into the body, and the combination of heavy-bottomed 70s groove and liquid six-string psychedelia pulls my mind to Fontanelle, only as if playing the part of a lounge band at some sunny Ibizan café. Understated melodies shine as if generated from a harpsichord made of quivering gemstone and highlife organs sing psychotropic hymns to the sun while galactic energy blasts push the balearic jam towards more cosmic waters. And by the end, the rhythms drop, and in the resulting world of ambient sonic sunshine, a bass guitar chugs, with slight distortion and vocal filtering kissing the fried funk lines.
Space age electronics wiggle through the void in “Airmalta” before a stoned lounge jazz jammer emerges, with contrabass plucking through the shadows. The drums of Enrico Ro morph quickly from lazed spiritual bop to a popping acid jazz breakbeat, though the vibe remains low slung and delirious, especially as smoke-shrouded e-pianos diffuse through the murk. The background overflows with weirdo space sounds, bubbling cauldron fx, insectoid hums, and cascades of resonance that filter into blinding light…all while a serpentine fuzz organ moves overheard, the vibe seasick, drunken, and countered by blistering waves of psychedelic fuzz guitar. Drum and bass continue holding their downbeat jazz groove and the electric pianos grow increasingly abstract while skronking chords intercut the SiP-esque Afro organ melodics. And eventually, the groove starts to vaporize, leaving overdriven keys and webs of slapback. As for “Lowed,” Rusconi drops us straight away into a world of surf psychedelia, with big basslines cruising along some seaside highway, and drums hard panned as they swing on the beat. Infectious snares intertwine with shaker and bongo patterns, while vibraphones sparkle in the moonlight. Piero Ambrosani’s trumpet coos out clouds of color and percussive vocalisms move at the edge of the mix…like bending saws approximating the soft songs of jungle fauna. There are evocations of Diminished Men, in particular when sci-fi synthesizers start squelching over the big bottomed surf jazz jam out, bringing with them a futuristic touch that only enhances the atmospheres of noir exotica. Trumpet and synth blur together into a fuzzed out mirage of melody and harmony, with the brass growing increasingly adventurous at certain times, while elsewhere backing a sensual whisper. Basslines pull out momentarily, and when they return, the stirring sounds of woodwinds join the mix, which sing their aerophone lullabies through a cinematic drug den haze. Then, as the track closes, it mutates into a nocturnal jazz zone out, with shakers and starlit idiophonics conversing with Ambrosani’s calming trumpet purr.
“Karin Solaris” opens the B-side and features high end drones wafting like opium smoke while unidentifiable field recordings suffuse the spectrum…these shuffles and scrapes of mysterious origin. Sickly drones grow in strength within the ether and golden shimmers from the noa bells and tāmpurā drones of Ambra Galassi peak through oceanic wavefronts generated by bowed strings. Echo pedal manipulations cause multi-tracked ghost howls, or sometimes sudden tonal shifts…like ripple moving through the fabric of the universe…and there are evocations of Pelt and Ariel Kalma, of Mind Over Mirrors and GHQ, and of Bitchin Bajas and La Monte Young, with cascading currents of feedback converging…resonating…vibrating. Feet rustle in the grass and bells are shaken in a state of ecstatic trance as brain bending oscillations swell in intensity, their tonal soundbath serenade activating astral portals and third eye visions. “Ouzospore” starts with oscillations moving through extra-terrestrial fluids, and with constructive collisions generating squiggles of spectral squelch and sprays of silver starshine. Melodic bubbles percolate beneath mangled modulations and sleepy-eyed filter sweeps while crazed percussive rolls fade in before panning out of sight. Electro-toms move side-to-side as a soporific slice of astral tribal jazz emerges, one that sees basslines locked into a classical bebop walk, though as if slowed down to a fever dream pace. Beating bongos generate skeletal percussive structures that are further supported by snare sketches and sparse cymbal splashes, and squarewave synth leads swim drunkenly through seas of galactic detritus wherein swirling spirals, feedback blasts, and liquiform oscillations merge as one.
“Notturno” begins with ceremonial drones flowing forth from the center of the cosmos…the effect like slowly lapping wavefronts of alien sound. Massive sub bass bubble bursts are guided by gentle tabla rhythmics, with the track taking on the feel of a berceuse as it lulls the mind into the world of dreams. Tremolo picked strings swell into magnificent arcs of post-rock wonderment—which trail like shooting stars across an expansive night sky—and my mind is drawn to Mogwai perhaps, even as the rest of the groove more so resembles the sundowner balearica of Max Santilli. Pads cry, moan, and morph into robotic baby babble, while simultaneously creating clouds of comfort the float the soul. Twinkling tones of silver and gold ping in the distance as the the mind drifts further towards visages of childlike spirits sleeping in moonlit clearings, where leaves and grass generate organic rhythms that merge with melting sonics as they rain down from the stars. Closing track “Radiomessaggio” begins with the titular radio messages, the origin unknown as Rusconi phaser-blasts the sounds into a body of billowing cosmic gas. Distorted voices and conversations from past lives are buried in layers of glittering noise while plucked tones of mutating glass warble and worm through the fractalized air. Snippets of sound are caught in malfunctioning delay machines, causing feedback oscillations to trail off to infinity, and as modulating bass sweeps filter through meditative cycles, the aforementioned tones of glass splinter into shards of screaming feedback. Heavenly organ drones sit beneath these layers of solar skree…a sort of new age incantation fighting against brain piercing psychsonics…as if some Seahawks or Experimental Audio Research-esque space ceremonial has been merged with the crazed treble psychedelia of Vibracathedral Orchestra or Sunroof!. Esoteric tones of kosmische energy explode into supernovas of strange colorations, sonar sonics pull the body and spirit towards some aqueous netherworld, and as the track moves to a close, warming bass waves and plucked abstractions swim together through an echoing dreamspace.
(images from my personal copy)
