title: Master Generator
format: limited CD / digital
keywords: electronic idm ambient cancer drone electronica industrial leukemia Alameda
Down in the waiting room we wait and listen to ‘Waiting Room’. The sound of sterile surroundings, slight nerves hinting towards a nervous breakdown, thoughts that leave the room into the ones of worry and doom and yet return back to the room to watch the clock ticking the time away. Waiting and waiting; a nurse rings a bell as one by one people around us stand up and move in and out while we are left behind with our thoughts that gets crunchier by the second. Finally panic kicks in; did they forget about us? The music of the nervous breakdown from too much waiting goes full throttle; if we go mental, maybe someone notices us and let us finally go in to the next level?
We move along with the album to the hallways, armed with the sound of the ‘Master Generator’. There is this evil rhythm, something dark, something that somehow reminds me of the Hare Krishna but then as seen on a bad trip. The music is of a psychedelic kind but it’s a cold happening with brewing dark pulses that feels like we have entered a bad place and it will take hours for our drugs to wear off.
Then there is ‘Chemotherapy’ which sounds as clinical and scary as the name probably implies for many. The music vibrates in a dark and sinister way, hopefully killing off the cancerous cells in a sophisticated way.
Another chemical sounding track named ‘Leukocyte’ pops in; hoovering and scanning through the ears like a surreal form of radiation that goes through skin, veins and bones. Deep within it you could hear a heartbeat stumbling over some bongos & if you dive deeper you can actually see shadowy shamans doing blissful rituals in order to save the people who need it the most. The track however seems to change halfway; getting that trance like expression across that turns the table around and becomes intoxicating in a up powering way. The rhythm and strange chemicals work together to endorse the endorphins and unleash them out of their caves to help out like the true warriors that they are.
The trac ‘Lumbar Puncture’ is a much more peaceful ride. Somehow I feel like we are riding a little horsey into better times. The hooves are quietly tapping away on a very smooth and nice rhythm until halfway the music seems to go into reverse, bringing the horsey with great skills back to the steady stable where it’s little 7+ minute journey had started.
Then there is ‘Marrow’ which comes like a sentimental hollow drone, overwhelming the speakers in some state of loneliness. A wobbling sad piano wobbles in the dangerous background, as if it is hanging on some cables very high up in the air, dangling in the doomed wind, just waiting for the wire to break and fall down on the concrete down below.
The more cleaner yet still covered with some eerie sounding undertones is the ‘Healing Song’ a track that is like the plasters on a healing wound, a bit more calm and friendly; wishing the person who listens in an efficient recovery. Don’t expect a voice here singing a soothing lullaby, but more an organic session of ambience that calmly kisses you on the forehead.
Then there is the ‘Healing Song II’ which isn’t an actual song (or I simply couldn’t discover it) but more a dark soothing ambient work that haunts quietly, leaving me with the imagination that bad things are leaving the sick and that they do this in a ghostly way. All in all this release is a dark one, fairly chemical and yet reasonably smooth.
It helps to discover that this isn’t just a random release, as apparently:
“it is both a love song to the artist’s 9 year old daughter, Sevigny and a big “fuck you” to the Leukemia that she is bravely battling at the moment. All profit from this release will go to the Creston J. Walker Foundation, which is the local Children With Cancer support group that initially helped the artist and his family.”