with the prospect of the Radio Cegeste / Lee Noyes live collaboration coming to an end for the foreseeable future upon Lee's relocation from Dunedin, NZ to Gothenburg, Sweden in the final days of 2011, his decision to release two site-specific recordings we had done in the previous months as a four-track album on his own idealstate label resulted in to orient themselves with coastlines (ISR2-12), in an edition of 100 copies. With the official release date as the 7th january 2012, these are at the time of writing available at the idealstate site, and via French distributor Metamkine.
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"Much of what I like about this album is its feeling of hidden discoveries and the way that, for much of the time it sounds less like a deliberate attempt to make music as it does a chance exploration around the sonic detritus found amongst the long wave radio bands. While in places the extremities of the sound get very harsh indeed and certainly keep you from relaxing into any kind of apathetic relationship with the CD there is also a feeling of it just existing in the room as it plays, forming another layer on top of the sounds of every day life. It is as fascinating to listen to as it is enjoyable and not much like anything else I have heard before."
-Richard Pinnell, review in The Watchful Ear, January 2012
-Richard Pinnell, review in The Watchful Ear, January 2012
"Had this emerged from N[Q], I wouldn't have been surprised. There's a similar level of restraint, of allowing the phenomena to stand on their own for extended periods, a minimum of overt manipulation or gestural activity. Snatches of voices, a violin melody (I recognize it, but can't place it), swarms of other generally low-key detritus come and go, very much giving the sense of drifting by, being momentarily captured, then going on their way."
-Brian Olewnick, review in Just Outside, January 2012
"A Lilliputian music that exists beyond the ambit of its origins. A dense wash of light pulled from the interference that surrounds interference."
- Patrick Farmer, in his January 2012 sampler for Sound and Music
"At times the recording seems to be searching for survivors like a rescue team that has found the spot of a submersion, but no debris. It’s the sound of magnetic currents and the feedback of stars, the empty pockets between what is said and what is meant, the unexpressed words, tumbling into silence. As such, it’s an intensely lonely recording, a record of dropped connections, missed opportunities and shipwrecks, one in which the invisible protagonists, attempting to orient themselves with coastlines, find the geography to be as intimidating as the lack of land. [...] there’s more going on here than simple field recordings; disorienting samples and live musical elements are woven in as well. The birds may sound live, but there’s a good chance they’re not; the rain arrives from a pre-recorded source, and the foghorn is an accordion. This additional layer of detachment – the thought of environmental sounds not being environmental – adds to the sense of dislocation, making the screech at 8:05 of “to check their homeward progress” feel like punishment: the friendliest response one receives is the sound of feedback, the crossing of wires. One wonders if a traveler in space might feel the same way, encountering a friendly voice only to discover it to be an echo of a distended, long-lost radio show."
- Richard Allen, review in A Closer Listen, February 2012
-Brian Olewnick, review in Just Outside, January 2012
"A Lilliputian music that exists beyond the ambit of its origins. A dense wash of light pulled from the interference that surrounds interference."
- Patrick Farmer, in his January 2012 sampler for Sound and Music
"At times the recording seems to be searching for survivors like a rescue team that has found the spot of a submersion, but no debris. It’s the sound of magnetic currents and the feedback of stars, the empty pockets between what is said and what is meant, the unexpressed words, tumbling into silence. As such, it’s an intensely lonely recording, a record of dropped connections, missed opportunities and shipwrecks, one in which the invisible protagonists, attempting to orient themselves with coastlines, find the geography to be as intimidating as the lack of land. [...] there’s more going on here than simple field recordings; disorienting samples and live musical elements are woven in as well. The birds may sound live, but there’s a good chance they’re not; the rain arrives from a pre-recorded source, and the foghorn is an accordion. This additional layer of detachment – the thought of environmental sounds not being environmental – adds to the sense of dislocation, making the screech at 8:05 of “to check their homeward progress” feel like punishment: the friendliest response one receives is the sound of feedback, the crossing of wires. One wonders if a traveler in space might feel the same way, encountering a friendly voice only to discover it to be an echo of a distended, long-lost radio show."
- Richard Allen, review in A Closer Listen, February 2012
