A pox on the naive, casual music listener who changes radio stations if something blatantly ear-throttling (or vulgarly romantic) isn't playing! That's what I say. These unfortunate souls-- and I think we all know a handful-- will never quite grasp what it is that makes the rest of us so enamored of the work of Pan American's Mark Nelson, and other cinematic ambient artists.
Patience is a virtue. The Best Things Come to Those Who Wait. Ah, which cliché shall I evoke next? Tempting as it may be for Mr. Casual Listener, as mentioned above, to dismiss music that takes its time to get going, he does it a great disservice by actually doing so. Nelson revels in the small details-- the subtle shifts in texture and sound.
When recording with his creepy Virginian avant-o-mates in Labradford, Nelson concentrates on instrumental interplay in pieces that are simultaneously soothingly static and unsettling. But when left to his solo devices, we find Pan American notching out the more dub-influenced groove sensibilities that lingered in some of Labradford's work. It's been said that Lab-mate Carter Brown's more typical muso approach to composition tempers Nelson's electronics- descended leanings. That argument is given credence here on this second-- and quite remarkable-- album under Nelson's Pan American moniker.
All manner of vaguely eerie atmospheres abound on this record, yet for all the surface iciness, there's a beckoning textural warmth that keeps it from sounding distant. With headphones, the craft of the sonics is more readily absorbed-- at wimpy low levels, this stuff would probably be about as interesting as listening to distant street traffic. But, as anyone who's truly had their ass kicked by great music knows, volume gets results. Quickly. Turn this shit up if it isn't rocking your boat, in other words. Only then will the lovely clanging and dubby bass of "Double Rail" nail all the right places in your little black heart. At low levels, guest vocalists Low and backing music on "Code" could be mistaken for some crazy religious radio station with some worrisome repeated chanting. Up goes the listening level, and you're being grooved along thusly by the pounding kicks, ringing dub-rhythmic chords and echoed hats and cymbals, while the rather lovely minor-key chant drills itself into your brain.
Nelson's work here is not too derivative in itself, but traces of artists like Pole, Global Communication, and the Basic Channel/Chain Reaction stable are in attendance. Here and there, Nelson goes on auto-pilot for a little too long: "Coastal" seems a bit too content to ride a vaguely lovely but ultimately too-featureless pattern to its inevitable end several minutes later. Bits of "K. Luminate" meander, which is understandable over the course of a nine or ten minute track.
The addition of Chicago Underground Duo cornetist Rob Mazurek would seem to be a nice avant touch to the otherwise electronic tracks, but it works better on paper than on the record. His playing, while a warm complement at times, usually sticks out like a sore thumb. It seems particularly forced into unlikely spots on the closer, "Both Ends Fixed," a track which otherwise follows another savory recipe of deep bass, echoing percussion, and laidback chordal repetition.
All in all, chalk up another worthy and fascinating chapter to Kranky's already formidable post-rock/experimental catalogue. Come, Mr. Casual Listener, pray with me and my congregation at the Sonic Altar in the Church of Studio Wizardry, won't you? We're a fine bunch, once you get to know us.
