Album Review: William Basinski- Nocturnes
I’m uncertain of William Basinski’s creative process. Many
of his ambient or experimental compositions are all comprised of loops and
field recordings made over 30 years ago. Case in point is the first half of his
new two-song LP, Nocturnes. The title
piece is constructed out of prepared piano loops recorded in 1979.
Does dude just sit around, making loops, thinking, “Yeah,
this is gonna be awesome when I release it 30 years from now.”
No matter what his creative process really is, “new” music
from Basinski is always welcome. Still riding a victory lap off of the 10th
anniversary reissue of his seminal The
Disintegration Loops series, introducing his work to an audience that
missed it the first time around (myself included), Nocturnes continues the overall underlying sense of terror and
dread that his stand-alone pieces usually have.
The title piece is roughly 41 minutes of roughly the same
three sounds playing in roughly the same order—I say roughly, because
throughout the 41 minutes, subtle changes come and go. The piece has a tendency
to lull you into its rhythm, so when they changes to come, it’s somewhat
surprising and jarring. “Nocturnes” is
an exercise in restraint—while some of Basinski’s past loop-based pieces get
out of hand at times with walls of noise, et. al, this remains relatively
steady, although it does grow slightly louder as it nears the halfway point.
The second piece, “The Trail of Tears,” is culled from much
more recent material—tape loops and delay recordings from 2009. It’s also slightly
shorter, clocking in at just less than 30 minutes. I stop short of using the
word “optimistic” to describe anything by Basinski, but at least the first
section of “Trail” is exponentially less ominous when compared to the first
track on the record. However, in the last ten minutes or so, the piece switches
gears, and things become very, very unsettling, before the loop slowly fades
away.
Nocturnes is
Basinski’s first “new” effort since 2011. The reissue treatment given to The Disintegration Loops certainly raised
his profile quite a bit. Basinski never phones anything in—his compositions are
always unique and original. Overall, I did find that Nocturnes lacked the immediacy that much of his latter day work
carries—like the 9.29.82 series, “The Garden of Brokenness,” and “El
Camino Real.” I connected with all of those right away. I did not dislike the
two pieces that make up Nocturnes, but
it was less of an emotionally draining experience to listen to them. While that
may sound like a relief to some, I listen to William Basinski because I want to
take something away from it when I am finished. Or in some cases, leave a part
of myself behind.
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