Cerca:asc nothing is certain

Celebrating thirty years of collaboration, Loren Connors and Alan Licht performed for two nights at OTO on May 5 and 6th, 2023. The shows celebrated a new release titled “At The Top of the Stairs”; a document of the pair's reunion in 2018 after a period of 8 years not playing together. It’s a dark, swirling two-sided spectral noir session, put out by the duo’s home label, Family Vineyard, and we expected a similar kind of atonal abyss to appear at the OTO residency. On the second night however, with the stage lit in blue, Connors took up a seat on the piano stool whilst Licht picked up the guitar. What followed was the duo’s first ever set with Connors on piano - one of only a few times Connors has played piano live at all - here captured and issued as The Blue Hour. Its spacious warmth came as a total surprise live, but makes complete sense for a duo whose dedicated expressionism takes inspiration from a vast spectrum of emotion. Both opening with single notes to start, it doesn't take long before a surface rises and begins to shimmer between the pair. A run up the keys, the drop of a feedback layer on a sustained and bent note. When the two begin to exchange notes in tandem, brief touches of melody and chord hover and the hush of the room is palpapale. After a while, Connors picks up the guitar, stands it in his lap and sweeps a wash of colour across Licht’s melody. Sharp, glassy edges begin to form, open strings and barred frets darkening the space. When his two pedals begin to merge, Licht finds a dramatic organ-like feedback and it’s hard not to imagine Rothko’s Chapel, its varying shades of blue black ascending and descending in the room. When Connors goes back to the piano for the second side, the pair quickly lock into a refrain and light pours in. It’s a kind of sound that Licht says reminds him of what he and Connors would do when the duo first started playing together 30 years ago. It’s certainly more melodic than some of their more recent shows, and the atonal shards of At The Top of the Stairs seem to totally dissolve. What is always remarkable about Licht is that his enormous frame of reference doesn't seem to weigh him down, and instead here he is able to delicately place fractures of a Jackson C Frank song (“Just Like Anything”,) amongst the vast sea of Connors’ blues. Perhaps it's the pleasure of playing two nights in a row together, or the nature of Connor’s piano playing combined with Licht’s careful listening, but the improvisation on The Blue Hour feels remarkably calm and unafraid. There’s nothing to prove and no agenda except the joy of sounding colour together. Totally beautiful.

Club music culture necessarily shifted gears in many ways during and after the course of the pandemic. Older participants found their way into other interests and younger participants took new reigns to orient spaces they felt good inside of. The agenda for the music, and the cultural industry surrounding it at large, took a more frivolous and “fun” turn. Clubs needed to recoup lost money, people needed more refreshing catharsis for their nightlife escape, and in some pockets scattered around the globe a newer and younger cadre of producers/promoters/DJ’s pulled optical cues from a scattering of “darker” influences to give an alternate aesthetic to the aforementioned “vibes” culture. In the midst of this, a large polarization of conceptual energy shifted within the compositional and utilitarian machinations of the club music culture leaving behind the brooding and cerebral placeholders for different kind of enjoyable hedonism. Terrestrial Paradise’ “Artificial Hell” harkens to another prescient time before that shift occurred. “Artificial Hell’ might just be an illustration of what all of this fun escapism encapsulates.

Terrestrial Paradise is the latest moniker from Montreal come Los Angeles based producer Jaclyn Kendal. Having developed and cemented her sonic positionality with releases on North American labels like Ascetic House and Summer isle over the years, as well as a series of monolithic live sets, Bank is pleased to announce Kendal’s Terrestrial Paradise first full length album “Artificial Hell”. Over the course of nine recordings, “Artificial Hell” gives a master class in pressurized industrial techno of the slower variety. Fitting with the legacy of Bank’s output since it’s inception, Terrestrial Paradise’s aesthetic sensibilities sit within the canon of a certain tinge of club music imbued with a sense of natural grit, sans pretense.

“Artificial Hell” nods to artists like Scorn, Regis, and 400 PPM while maintaining it’s own territory in the landscape of cerebral and brooding rhythmic techno. Ominous, mechanistic drones sit above succinctly exacted percussion composition and sound design. Throughout “Artificial Hell”, Kendal shows her proficiency with the push and pull of building and releasing tension. On tracks like “Salvation” and “Relativity” she melds her synth wash wallscapes with driving percussion, serving as both a hint and counterpoint to the the entirety of the latter part of the album taking on spartan ambient compositions as a way to keep the listener in a subdued stasis. This album is a statement piece from a long time participant in the North American underground music sectors. It reminds the listener through perilous, considered rhythms and darker drone impositions to cement themselves back into a place where not
everything is always a good time.