Certain collaborations are born from the core of inevitability: both Asher Thal-Nir and Miguel Tolosa belong to the rank of enormously insightful sound artists from which we always expect some degree of enchantment, thus wholly justifying a joint release. Cell Memory does not delude, although it is not exactly equivalent to what I was figuring out in anticipation before spinning the CD.
The first track starts with a wraithlike bewailing, repetitive laments wafted by strong currents, a desert sandstorm heard from within a tent. The tone is one of resignation to the acceptance of upcoming chances, regardless of the entailed consequences. The piece then evolves towards sonorities recalling a faulty turbine amidst low murmurs comparable to massive underwater bubbles, in which what sounds like slowed down feedback appears to place an additional element of reiteration in an already haunting soundscape.
The second episode shows a slightly different trait while remaining relevant to the general concept. Again we're greeted by a threatening rumble that establishes its authority on the psyche straight away, then turns into a somewhat comforting incidence. This foundation is soon enriched by a overwhelmingly choral superimposition of stretched emissions, halfway through alien baritones and a potent insufflation blowing transversely in a large fissure. The whole wraps us in a blanket of diffidence, yet we’re also thrilled to be encircled and finally engulfed, as an impenetrable throb dictates the pace of the composition and the ghosts return, worrying appearances that, on the contrary, are back to hunt the demons of unresponsive ignorance.
Well-known recipe, truth be told. But when the chefs are at this level of expertise, one gladly returns to the same restaurant. Translation: four full stars.
Winds Measure
