Vitaly Maklakov is a Russian industrial musician. Sitting astride the Ural mountain chain dividing Russia into its Asian and European halves, he apparently has had some time to reflect. Reflect and create some very, very interesting experimental noise, as is evidenced by his latest release –Открытая Передача Трансцедентальной Программы / Скрытая Передача Трансцедентной Программы. There are two very long tracks on this CDr (nonsensically limited to 20 copies, but since it was released today, there’s a good chance it is not yet sold out from the label). They are called “открытая передача трансцендентальной программы” (“Open transcendental transfer program”) and “скрытая передача трансцендентной программы” (“Hidden transcendent transfer program”).
Track lengths and parts of the sound indicate harsh noise wall, and in some very liberal definition it is. However, to even try to capture this in genre terms we’d have to broaden our vocabulary considerably from the three letter abbreviation HNW. Harsh noise, musique concrète and the catch all “experimental electronics” would just begin to define this stuff. That goes in particular for the first track.
The “Open transcendental transfer program” is marked by a number of salient features: plenty of field recordings and unprocessed sound sources, from the rubbing together (of hands?) that starts off the first track, and all through the track. There is clicking and clacking and stuff touching other stuff. Wood, junk, broken electronics, abused tape loops, chugging subway trains… To even guess the exact sources of this cornucopia of real world noise would in most cases be pointless, and often outright impossible. It is effective, though.
In addition to this, there is plenty of electronics and noise. It is rarely massive, but it is there in one form or another, more often than not. Feedback, fuzz bordering on white noise, and many other staples of the harsh noise repertoire are there. Usually these electronics are accompanied by the aforementioned unprocessed field recordings, and some kind of synthesizers also seem to play a part at times. The intensity varies to an extreme degree. After noisy manhandling of God knows which objects, long meditative sequences of unfocused handling of metal objects over an undefinable bass track glide into noise wall rumblings and strange crackling. The musique concréte tendency is undeniable, though we haven’t really heard much sounding exactly like this.
The second track is far more electronic than the first (both are approximately 37 minutes long). Here we’ve got ourselves some dynamic harsh noise (wall?). There may well be field recordings in here somewhere as well, but the focus is clearly on distortion, electronic feedback and harsh noise in general. While the first track is intellectually stimulating and somewhat challenging, the “Hidden transcendent transfer program” is viscerally enticing. In plain, vulgar English: this fucking rocks.
The track builds from complex but somewhat subdued noise carpets, punctuated by digital bleeping, until it finally reaches a massive level of intensity. Past the 23 minute mark or so, we are treated to a bass/midrange based noise fest that evolves into outright japnoise in the vein of Killer Bug or other such bondage based brutalists from the Land of the Rising Sun. The very last few minutes offer a cool down period of sorts, only almost as awesome as the rest.
This CDr is exactly as great as we for some reason had a feeling it would be, without knowing why. Should it and its stupid 20 copies run out all too soon, we hope someone has the brains to do a proper re-release with a decent limitation. At least a hundred people deserve to own this. Until then, it can also be heard here.