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VERY limited edition transparent purple 7" in full colour wraparound picture sleeve (+ 5 downloads).
Aug 2011, TR024.
The Uncommon Parallel That Resides Between Your Fingertips
The Process NO OTHER WAY
One of two new 7"s from the Trensmat label, this one from big time aQ faves, space rockers White Hills, who offer up two tracks of ambient drift, the A side, a swirly bit of abstract shimmer, a softly pulsing two note melody, subtly mesmerizing, surrounded on all sides by strange melodies, little bits of glitch, headphone listening reveals much going on in the background, a slow shifting sprawl of mysterious sounds, that seem to surface and fade, constantly changing shapes, while that pulse remains constant, the sort of jam that sounds like it must have been cut from a much bigger sonic cloth, it's the sort of sound that would be so easy to get lost it.
As is the B side, a more dirgey bit of ambience, thick churning guitars, roiling away in a cloud of hazy whir and deep rumble, loads of echo and delay and reverb, softly swirling, a gauzy and washed out expanse of slo-mo buzz and thrum, that seems to almost become riffs, before those riffs melt into the sounds around them, a gorgeously entrancing stretch of cyclical mesmer, in the form of downtuned spaced out crush.
ALREADY SOLD OUT AND OUT OF PRINT AT THE LABEL. We got a whole bunch, but odds are they won't be around for long, so don't dawdle, or risk being disappointed...
This is a weird beast. Anyone expecting their Mudhoney meets Hawkwind blend of future space-rock will be surprised by this 2-headed avant-garde ambient/drone monster. The A side is built round an hypnotic ambient loop and an incidental android whirr whilst much warped echo-laden phasing and eerie chuntering happens over the top. It's a remarkable, strangely alluring piece of music and sounds great at either 33 or 45 depending on how long you've got. It says 45 but I don't believe it particularly. Records are total liars. The flip is seemingly derived from caustic industrial waves of droning guitar feedback, compressed and bent out of shape to create a cavernous, shimmering metallic scree that sounds fucking great. So space rockers may like the sound of this impossibly titled side a little more but despite the lack of drums and riffs, this is still a twin bout of alienated head music for constantly tripping minds.
SINGLE OF THE WEEK.
If like me the mere mention or hint of a White Hills record about to make contact with a stylus is usually preceded by a quick dash around the gaff to nail, glue and secure all moveable objects for fear of destruction - then fear not - for on this occasion the Hilly White ones appear in somewhat calmed and chilled climes - oh alright can we settle for distracted and a tad dysfunctional then. Those expecting the normal wasted and fried space gouged freak outs take a moment out for this is the ’Hills taking time out to explore and to magnify their micro verse environs. Utilising a sonic path more commonly associated with a youthful Pimmon the Hills serve up something approaching the type of sonic sculpturing you’d expect of some DoTB derived blood line, starts amid a busying haze of confusion and proceeds therein to burrow beneath your headspace and infiltrate your psyche with all manner of no wave eeriness to which underpinned by incessant head wiring Dadaist electro loops over all manner of scrapes, shrieks and freeform motifs push, pull, tear and terraform in a most disjointed non formulaic way which all said is best experienced for maximum mind melting effect through headphones that way you can freebase to your hearts content on the various sonic sub plots merrily marauding the groove space seemingly unaware of each others existence. Things don’t get any easier over on the flip with ‘the uncommon parallel that resides between your fingertips’ which if anything hikes up the uneasy dial several notches for some end of days apocalyptic dread, a colossal sonic event metered out by darkening waves of feedback and sheens of doom drilled monastic omnipresence. As is typical of these releases get the vinyl and find yourselves treated to a wealth of exclusive additions which aside offering downloadable mp3’s of said wax tracks also includes a rather nifty and worthy of entry fee alone ’the process no other way’ which space heads is your sub 10 minute head expanding slice of slow coiling stoner blues replete with hazily lazy out there motifs all kissed with a seriously chilled snake winding riff throughout not to mention two EGO sensation videos ’dressed to steal’ and ’special delivery’ adding some much needed light relief and finger pointing piss taking to the proceedings.
The pleasingly prolific White Hills offer up some more class A psychedelic soundscapes with this rather great 7in record, just months after revealing their mighty H-P1 album. These are two new tracks as well and although it's hardly what I'd call single material (it won't be bothering the charts any time soon) it's definitely a worthy addition to their already impressive output. Measured Energy displays the more avant-garde side to White Hills so although this is a two track 7in, don't expect to find them in Stooges/Mudhoney/stoner-rock mode; this is an altogether stranger experience.
The title track is all backwards electronics, oscillations, Krautrock influences and muffled noises. No guitars, no riffs. This won't be the White Hills that everyone's familiar with but it's still really great. The second track, 'The Uncommon Parallel That Resides Between Your Fingertips' is a wall of rumbling drones and barley recognisable guitars. It's an intense, disorientating and wholly immersive piece of music and one that should prove a hit with worshippers of all things drone related. If there's any criticism it's that two sides of a 7in vinyl just aren't enough and the tracks could be considerably longer. Never mind, you can always just put the needle back to the start of the record. Ah, bliss. White Hills are becoming something of an institution in certain circles, come and find out why.
There’s plenty of purple here, but fortunately not so much as a peep from that faux-gypsy hipster from
Gogol Bordello. Instead, what we’re treated to are a couple of psych- inclined astral larks that sound like
an abandoned moonbase undergoing a thorough colonic while an armada of fried barracuda makes hay with the semaphore. More than decent explorations, gusty too.
White Hills is back with another rare 7” that went out of print very quickly. I feel very lucky to have found a copy. The title track (might not be as the 7” has only a white label so there is no way to know which side is which) is a totally far out soundscape with what sounds like a mix of guitar with lots and lots of effects and some synthesizers. No drums or percussion at all. This sounds just as far out on 33rpm as 45rpm, the intended speed of play. The B-side(??), The uncommon parallel that resides between your fingertips, is also a strange experimental piece of music with strange sounds, a repeated synth drone that weird stuff is layered underneath or over the top and new sounds coming in and going back and forth from right to left. Not your hard rocking spaced out stuff but the experimental side of the band.
This release is some experimental stuff from White Hills than their previous releases. This has more of a dark and scary tone. On side A you will hear spacey radio waves, frequency noises, interference, laser swords swishing mid-air and a heavy synth that builds throughout the song. I could not recognize any sounds from instruments like guitar, bass or drums. However it doesn’t mean they aren’t there. = p Also I couldn’t hear any vocals on either side of this 7inch. Side B has some noticeable guitar and synths with lots of echoing. This track reminds me a lot of a fierce storm. Towards the end you hear some drumming in the far far distance.
Rather than offer their most immediate material on the short format, White Hills go for their most abstract. And like Sammy Johns once sang, that’s all right with me. “Measured Energy” sounds like a video-game approximation of Cluster jamming with a digeridoo improv ace, while a shortwave radio in the background gives up its tenuous hold on being in tune to any station. The flip is a big, echo-laden bit of guitar racket that sounds like it could only have been realized by smacking the sound against both walls of a very large room. Dark purple vinyl and sleeve images of obscured eyes only enhance the notion that this is psychedelia, but not psychedelic rock. The much longer bonus tune that comes with the download (not sure if it’ll continue to be available that-away once the records dry up) is much closer to the long-form, none-too-hasty rock that White Hills provides on longer formats. Brevity may be the soul of their wit.
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