It's an absolute treat to be consumed by this thing from start to finish, over and over. And yet on the fifth listen, I still can't say for sure if it comes and goes in twenty minutes or forty. If not for the saving grace of the turntable's arm in relation to it's proximity from either the inner or outer most playable part of the record, all reference to the real world, let alone time, would be lost. At least it would be voluntarily given up in this case.
Because: who wants to participate in the mess that is reality when there is such a beautiful and ideal alternative? Gone are the rules of law and the stressful complications of money, and more so: time. These are sacrificed at the first reasonable opportunity to do so, in lieu of the notion of holding on.
In their place: the altered states that are conjured by MV Carbon, an intoxicating and hypnotic series of suites that are equally as menacing as they are are soothing. Whether or not the electronics are low and pulsing drones or a jagged razor's edge cutting through the tape while swirling through her gurgling orchestration,... whether the underbelly is a simple antiquated drum machine that drags itself across the concrete to do her bidding or an eerie repetition on cello, who's organic sound is almost unexpected in the mix,... the collages' most direct likeness to distortion is in their relation to time.
This amalgamation of primordial industrial sound and the most left-field of what one might consider to be minimal electronic music would be perfect enough as is, and yet in the end the most captivating aspect of these pieces is MV Carbon's voice - ricocheted and swirling on her command. ...a childlike pout ambulances the somehow simultaneously sultry recollections of situations she allows only a squinted eye's observation of. ...and yet these hushed diatribes are addictive in their tone and the effect is overwhelming. Two minutes in, and you've come to terms that when the record has ended, there would be no hesitation in listening to her stuttered a capella for however long she mandates.
Of course, given the complete abandon already experienced alongside the duration of the LP itself, who knows how long you will be laying there on the floor. It's a commitment, sure, but at least it's an easy one to make.
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