Walk the fence of boredom and chaos, like hanging over a guard rail beside a mall food court while high on Coricidin, and know that you cannot make a single prediction of what you will encounter over the next hour and 4 minutes of anti-music from Derrick Spotts. A new era of high frequency abuse has come from the proverbial American basement, and, for the most part, it is easy to dismiss as a rehashing of noise or power electronics or industrial or so on that was done better, done with more terror, more guts, etc. This material from Spotts, now working primarily out of the Pacific Northwest, takes the anti-music and non-music schism and invents within it. The recurring theme of Concrete Horizon is simple: endurance. How much are you willing to take with no narrative? The locales, are they alien enough that you can observe them cinematically, or are they almost too familiar and broach anxiety? 30 Minutes on Flying is a prime example of endurance; the subject is loose, the tension is palpable, the subsonic tones and live-&-direct piercing screech place you centrally in the sound. Following quickly thereafter is Suite for Power Plant & Boiler Room which features longtime friend and collaborator V. Sinclair. The rattling bottles, the natural sound of materials dragged on cement, the particular and present sound of reverberation take the listener from the sound's center and places them on the other end of the action, far away from the source, alienating, pulling the story away just as you were gaining some traction. Each act on this album stands firmly on its own, weaving an uneven foundation that does not allow the listener to be still for a moment. This album is far from boredom, but it is anti-exciting. It is anthemic of 2020, a time of impatience, quarantine, the inability to move, sickness, and despair. Take the time to listen at a high volume, and when it's over you can turn it back on, or sit in the silence.
–David Coccagna, 2020
credits
released December 3, 2021
Mastered by Grant Richardson.
Flysch is Derrick Spotts.
Experimental/electronic/noise/synth/wave record label releasing cassettes, CDs and vinyl for over a decade with a focus on art and artistry. The drive to develop an exciting and diverse roster of artists is an integral part of the label.
supported by 21 fans who also own “Concrete Horizon”
Parts of 'Signaler' sound like someone tumbling down a large hill ass over teakettle with a full drum kit in tow. I think those raucous clobbering drum clusters and the malleable suffocated noise that Altar of Flies manages to concoct sold me on this. Nice work. Not for delicate eardrums. Lost Tribe Sound
supported by 19 fans who also own “Concrete Horizon”
I cannot praise this album enough. This album is absolutely terrifying! The many starts and stops creates this very h settling tension. Each start expands on the stopper idea previously. It’s like the music equivalent of walking through thick fog while passing out multiple times throughout trying to find a place to orientate yourself. There may or may not be something sinister in that fog, but you don’t want to stick around to find out. Bought the vinyl so I summon the fog demons through spe showhornwithteeth
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