Dawn of Midi’s 2013 album Dysnomia merged genres with ease. Members of modern jazz, contemporary classical, and electronic scenes all celebrated the trio’s memorable grooves and motifs. The exuberance of experimental dance music was easy to identify in this acoustic group’s sound. But another quality of that debut recording was its sense of control, particularly when dealing with ambient aesthetics.
Since 2013, the group’s drummer, Qasim Naqvi, has continued to work in the contemporary classical sphere. On the NNA Tapes imprint, he released a set of chamber music (performed by a student ensemble). On his latest EP, he plays and composes on a vintage Moog synthesizer—an instrument similar to the one used by Wendy Carlos on the landmark 1968 LP Switched-on Bach.
Taken individually, the six pieces on Chronology dispense small-scale hits of gorgeousness. In tandem, the tracks cohere to form a compelling suite of pieces that can subtly undermine expectations for ambient-influenced composition. Since this early Moog model was a monophonic synthesizer, capable of producing just a single melodic line at any given time, Naqvi had to multitrack his chords and harmonic designs. But this is done so subtly, the tracks all retain the feel of an intimate performance; it’s as though everything was triggered in one ruminative take.
On the opener, “Kindly Static,” Naqvi loops a single Moog tone. He turns this into an affecting minimalist composition by switching up playback speeds. Each droning note creates a new equilibrium, while the often slow pitch-bends in between carry a more reluctant, vulnerable feel. On the title track—the longest piece, which serves as the album’s emotional climax—Naqvi layers the sonic information in performances that employ different oscillators. Sometimes this results in a mellow, church-organ feel; at other points, harsher combinations provide a dramatic edge. It’s a slow-moving piece, but rich with activity.
Though it isn’t beat-focused, Chronology also has a connection with trends in electronic music that informed Dysnomia. On “Aftertouched,” another piece that uses multichannel playback trickery, Naqvi creates unpredictable rhythmic patterns from consistent harmonies. Because this particular Moog instrument was (in the composer’s words) “kind of janky,” there are stretches where you can hear signal noise in the mix, or else tones that seem less stable than others. But there’s nothing haphazard about the finished product. In “Head Within a Head,” the use of deep, floor-rattling blips works well alongside the instrument’s eccentricities. And the tone clusters that drive “Mt. Erased” have a chattering, jittery air. It’s the contrast between these pieces and the more tranquil compositions that gives Chronology its range—and its sense of purpose.
