Sunday, 4 April 2010


Elevator Bath

There are artists that look into the subconscious aspects of perception through plain coincidences generated by even simpler sonic architectures, achieving results that are unequivocally inimitable. Without a doubt, Adam Pacione can proudly stand among them. Dobranoc (Polish for "good night" - thanks, Adam!) comes on a limited edition picture disc – the vinyl is adorned with the artist’s experimental photographs - and constitutes an amazing illustration of his sound art, destined to generate extensive stretches of what I love calling “silence of the mind”.

The record contains two long segments, one per side, called “Dobranoc” and “Always”. Basically, not many differences subsist in their temperament, the impression of extremely gradual movement toward an inestimable stasis definitely felt throughout both pieces. Pacione utilized field recordings, guitars, shortwave radio, analog keyboards and Moog filters to craft the music, yet you’re not going to identify any of these instruments, as unremitting as your probing might be. What’s detected is only a massive accumulation of murksome clouds with very few openings, from which pale lights transpire amidst superimpositions of acutely poignant monochromatic harmonies. Frequencies that could induce someone to think of a concealed choir, quasi-frozen loops activating a sense of acquiescence to occurrences that can’t be possibly be controlled by our strength of character.

The spellbinding quality of these forward-inching masses makes sure that thoughts are left aside, and that any kind of overheated reaction is all but discarded. As the hiss, the unspoken throbbing and the private fluctuation set in motion by the composer’s vision keep smiling to uncompromisingness, we realize about the merits of this not-enough-lauded musician, a master of beneficial rational inertia.