Album Review(s): Kyle Bobby Dunn - Music For Medication and Six Cognitive Works
The rate with which ambient composer Kyle Bobby Dunn
releases music practically moves as glacially as the soundscapes he creates.
His last effort was 2014’s phenomenal triple album, Kyle Bobby Dunn and The Infinite Sadness—so
yes, it would be difficult to follow up something that dense and lengthy in a
timely fashion. Prior to that, Dunn released music at a somewhat regular
pace—with back-to-back double albums in 2010 and 2012, and two other albums in
2008 and 2011.
Dunn hinted at new music in the near future earlier in 2017
with the release of a new single, “Her Ghost Wore Tennis Shoes,” but until a
new full length actually materializes, he’s gone back into the vaults and
digitally reissued two very early releases via his Bandcamp page—the first, Music For Medication, dates back to 2002
when it was originally recorded and released, and was reissued on CD in 2007;
the second, Six Cognitive Works, was
recorded in 2005 and 2006, and released the following year.
Both efforts are not dramatic departures from Dunn’s latter
day work, but in listening to them now, you can hear the development that has
taken place and the confidence that has continued to grow as Dunn continues to
compose and perform.
Music For Medication
is one of Dunn’s first albums—recorded when he was still a teenager, it finds
him crafting elegant, slow moving pieces based around layers of effected electric
guitar and keyboards. Comprised of six lengthy compositions, each of which work
to build a slightly unnerving, albeit shimmering tension that, in some cases,
is never really released. The opening track, “For Summer Lakes,” grows until it
reaches a cacophonic breaking point—the harsh, distended droning collapses on
itself until the swift decay and resolution at the end.
In contrast, the late arriving “Bonavista,” glistens along
through its running time, rarely, if at all, reaching that kind of definitive
apex.
Six Cognitive Works,
on the other hand, finds Dunn treading into different, much more dissonant and
difficult territory. The shimmering tones and playfulness that the pieces on Music For Medication had is gone, and on
some pieces, like the slow burning opening, “Ketole,” or the long, icy bubbling
of “A Demarcation,” you can hear him beginning to ease into that mournful, or
at the very least, those pensive and evocative feelings that are prevalent in
his current output.
Other pieces sound like straight up hellscape—like the
incredibly brutal cacophony of the closing track, “Certain Sanctuaries, or the
nightmarish yet charmingly titled “I’m Gonna Run to You”—showing that even in
the early days of his career as an ambient composer, Dunn still had a sense of
humor about his song titles.
For those who may not be familiar with Dunn’s more recent
output, despite their early arrival in his canon, these are not necessarily the
best place to start. For longtime listeners, both Six Cognitive Works and Music
For Medication are worth your time—both are fascinating snapshots of Dunn
from his very early days, showing a performer who was always brimming with
potential and curiosity for just how far he could push the boundaries within a
specific piece, and who was willing to experiment and see just how long
something could be sustained, or how harsh a tone could be formed.
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