New Split Cassette from Emuul / Mortuus Auris & the Black Hand. On Stunned.
Sold out at source. A few are left and available for US: $7.50 inc p&p UK: £4.50 inc p&p
email , mortuusauris@googlemail.com
www.myspace.com/mortuusauris
Two deep-earth journeyers knock heads on this mega-split and out spills an hour and twenty of the good shit. SIDE A: Mortuus Auris & the Black Hand rev things into motion, and by motion we meant of the perpetual, unrelenting sort. We can think of very few projects like this that are able to so effortlessly corral together such widely variant bits upon bits of trans-terrestrial energy. Never is the ear overwhelmed, but from behind the psychic veil march out characters strange and rarely glimpsed with an eerily patient formality. ‘Omicida Della Regina’ reaches zenith after carefully examining each of these composite forms in turn. Their sounds are unrecognizably alien, yet somehow exclusive to our human experience on Earth. Is the Other they hint at to be embraced or repelled? Can’t decide? Hit rewind and buy a little more time. SIDE B: The white & black key strikes of a Fender Rhodes blur into grey-speckled piano comas here on Kyle Iman’s second release under the Emuul tag. When Kyle first told us he was developing ‘Songs for a Solo Piano’, our ears already began to tingle and it was still weeks before the master was to arrive. At this point it might as well be admitted publically Stunned’s absolute fetish for anything piano. Whether Emuul knew this or not, he still delivered a final forty-minute side that exceeded any fetishistic expectations. Maybe we weren’t prepared for its spaciousness, its bejeweled drift that articulates so much while speaking so little. Keyed contemplations like these allow the listener to plough their own mindfield beside the composition’s skilled soliloquy. For this reason and more we eagerly welcome Seattle’s Emuul aboard. This split c80 is a limited edition of 100 pro-dubbed & imprinted tapes with collaged double-sided jcard and cardstock insert.
In-between field recordings, heavy processing and deep, deep hauntology, Mortuus Auris & The Black Hand deliver something queerly warped here. Memories of sound ideas collide like notebook ink bleeding across sentences, loops linger and stop. What’s unclear here is what’s actually present and what could be seeping through from cassette’s depths. This is as beautiful as it is untogether. ROCKAROLLA, SCOTT MCKEATING
