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From the den of pre-scientific iniquity in which Baltimore sound\r\nactors thrive on non-planning, the stately emergence of professional\r\nharsh acousticians in five-part harmony, a brash romp through the New\r\nFrictionalism, The New Spectralism, and The New Ritualism. Bowing.\r\nRubbing. Scraping. Squealing. Squeaking. Screeching. Moaning. Silence.\r\nAnything else. Nothing else. Sound fixations waiting to unfix in the\r\nact of observation/measurement. Go ahead, measure them. Then flip to\r\nside B and watch your numbers float away in a muddy stream of ink. All\r\nsounds were made without electricity. Its portable music. You can\r\neasily move from now to the time when there was no emotion, just its\r\nprecursors of permanently lingering urgency._Ç Paul Neidhardt,\r\nCatherine Pancake, Dan Breen, and Andy Hayleck caress their idiophones\r\nuntil theyre lost in backporch lullabies\r\n of terror. Audrey Chens\r\nvoice also gets lost, swallowed by its mechanical half-kin and trapped\r\ninto the shadow world of forbidden overtones. In the center we find a\r\nsteaming hunk of dry ice, hosting the sounds of molecular frenzy at\r\nthe interface of hot and cold. Metal. Wood. H2O. Larynx. Danger. Safety. They say its built into the limbic system. - Ehse. Instrumentation: bowed metal, dry ice with heated metal, musical saws, percussion and voice.

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