There was a time not so very long ago when analog tape machines were the bleeding edge of music technology. Soon after, magnetic tape came into use and set experimentalists like John Cage and the French concréte crew to work figuring out all the weird shit to be done with recorded sound. At some point in those heady days, the tape loop became part of the new music composer's orchestra, and during the late 50s and 60s, composers like Terry Riley, Steve Reich and Pauline Oliveros were using the technique to make some pretty incredible music.
The tools and technology of the modernist 50s have come to be seen as quaint and arcane, and when they're deployed now, their very age becomes part of their appeal. The idea of a collective working exclusively with tape loops is like a baroque chamber group dedicated to period instruments. Australia's five-man collective The Loop Orchestra is such a throwback. Live and on record, they work with analog tape loops and analog tape loops only. They've been around in various incarnations for over 20 years, but Not Overtly Orchestral is only their third album.
The back cover of Not Overtly Orchestral excites me. There's a picture of two open reel decks set fifteen or so feet apart in some sparse warehouse, and stretched between them is a loop of \xBC" tape. This photo makes me realize that The Loop Orchestra would be extra great as a live act, with a stage full of beautiful machines spinning out tendrils of sound in all directions. Still, this particular CD is an excellent consolation prize.
The general M.O. here is to introduce and layer various loops, ride the faders so the mix is constantly in flux, and then tear the music back down at the track's end. It's a simple technique that's been done a million times, but experience has taught The Loop Orchestra how to find loops that work well together and complement the overall intentions of each specific piece. "Son of Not Overtly Orchestral" combines phrases of symphonic music of various lengths with some reversed radio static. The varying duration of the loops causes the piece to warble to and fro unexpectedly, so that each cycle brings a different combination to the foreground.
"Radiophony" is sourced from materials nicked from the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, so it's filled with old synths and sound effects. These loops are shorter and more numerous, so the entire track seems like a tightly choreographed vibrating cluster. "Gam", which uses bells and electrical interference among other identifiable sounds, is fast and percussive and, fittingly, of pop song length. The 16-minute closer "Profiles" is the most ominous track on the collection, with vocal samples that sound pained, bordering on demonic, some nasty bird calls, and a noisy train of backing noise that makes me think of a world in serious trouble.
The Loop Orchestra remind me a bit of Philip Jeck in the way they use old technology to evoke the hazy dreams of another time. Consisting as it does of cycled fragments of sound, Not Overtly Orchestral can on the one hand be slotted alongside current electronic music that makes heavy use of repetition. But The Loop Orchestra's sources are old and creaky without any hint of a digital edge. Everything about the sounds is antiquated, and yet the music remains oddly timeless, "classic" in the realm of modern experimental music.
