Artists: p0stm0rtem and Raymond Cummings
Title: We Don’t Exist, This is Only A Dream
Keywords: Experimental, Noise, Spoken Word, Avant-garde, Dark Ambient, Glitch, Improvisational
Reviewer: Alex Spalding
Sometimes, reader, I begin to wonder if we aren’t being… read.
That’s right… read. It’s just one letter short of dread (and delicious bread, yum).
I will occasionally get this disgusting feeling… a feeling like somewhere, out there, all these eyes are on us… omnipresent and ever watchful eyes. Well, maybe not us, but the words, I mean. These words I’m typing right now, even. Eyes of dread… eyes without bread to feed us with.
Whatever that feeling is, real or imagined, I’ll tell you, it’s not what we signed up for when we started a blog. No way.
Just between you and me, I’ve got this album I’m needing to write you about. It’s by p0stm0rtem and Raymond Cummings. I’ll tell you more, but I suggest we write over here in the corner of this other room. I feel like it’s the safest place. I’ll turn the shower on, too, that way the eyes won’t hear us. I… don’t know if eyes really possess the faculty of hearing, but I wouldn’t discount it. Those creepy, lidded balls in people’s heads are always up to something. You can tell the way they stare at you.
Well, if the coast is clear, we’ll get underway before we’re spotted. It’s just two tracks, and I’m otherwise very excited to write about them. I’d also like to talk about bread again, later.
‘We Don’t Exist, This Is Only A Dream Part 1’ begins with what feels to me like a broadcast signal being dialed up, and there are voices… very strange effects on the voice, like we’re receiving a feed from an AM radio station. Drones… and now, some kind of growling synthetic noise. The spoken word elements compliment the peculiar drone textures very well, I feel as if I’m clutching an edge, leaning into nowhere, intently trying to make out what is being said. We’re tethered to a kind of obliterated reality, finding we are white-knuckle gripping a nothingness, and there is not even a remnant of what’s slipped away to be found in these palms that cannot be loosened. The noises, scattered, leave me with an impression of malfunction on a very strange level that conveys for me an absolute spatial nihilism. The concept of this work, with it’s sonic manipulation of recorded voice patterns, feels to me to express here a convincing sense of total breakdown in communication, to such an extent that the words have become empty, but even further, mere guttural machine processes, a mouth being rinsed of purpose and meaning. I begin to feel as if the human within the music has become a value to be coldly abstracted from, with these cartoonish gurgles, the sound of stretched and looped throat. Ew… disturbing mental images aside, past this we come again to mechanized vocal processing…
… and then we move onto ‘Part 2’, which sounds highly effected and minimal at the start. A voice sample is cut in and repeats in a rhythmic way, followed shortly by some screaming tonal feedback. This piece feels like it puts rhythmic voice manipulation front and center for awhile, then dropping it away for low, ominous synth growls… and then throws a series of vocal noises at us that have been manipulated in such a way as to make the vocalizations sound like free jazz arrangements, even a didgeridoo. There’s a siren and deep bass plop, some shards of hoover texture, swathes of breath. It’s like a chorus of tracheotomies being performed on robots.
Yes, I am going to just say for the record that this was probably one of the most disturbingly subtle pieces of music I’ve yet heard from p0stm0rtem, in a really good way! I mean, of course in a good way, I’m always a fan. I bid you to explore it for yourself at the following two links, as I run up the utility bill with my obfuscating shower ruse. Do you think the eyes have seen us? O_O And… do you think there’s any bread around? That would be tasty. Well, anyway, here’s that link:
… or, alternatively…