Odd, mysterious, evocative.

Like the previously reviewed Jed Speare, Marchetti has interests in bioacoustics and sound ecology. However, Speare doesn't employ natural sounds to the same ends as does Marchetti. In this case, it seems as though the latter is leading us through the external wild toward our internal untamed in an attempt, through ritual, to induce alternate states of mind. Whereas the emphasis, for Speare, seemed to lie literally in the significance of the external world and then filtered through our consciousness, Marchetti seems to be explicitly setting up natural sounds to symbolically work within the psyche, as rough guideposts toward the ecstatic. It's a subjective difference, I admit, but given the context of each recording, I feel it has weight.

The fascination of ritual as a concept has its brethren among many, but as far as a marriage of dualities for forging the ecstatic is concerned, it is Nitsch who is commonly referred to as the contemporary progenitor of ritual in 'other' music. Though Marchetti's musique concrete shares only a fragment of the luminous microtonal obsessiveness of Nitch's famous works for performances, they do posit an alternate aesthetic apprehension of the sublime. It resides in a very subtle, discreet locale where it may be attained through symbolic inference, through the invocation of the elements instead of a straight orchestral representation of all-consuming sound.

The subtitle translates into 'exchange of eyes,' which, I suppose, can be interpreted in different ways. Despite the peppering of clues given us by the artists, I think that matches the rather open-ended canvas of Hatali Atsalei. But what of authorial intent, anyway?

Strictly speaking, the essential feeling is that it refers to the dissolution of self, and all the violence and extreme beauty that evokes, referencing the simultaneous state of becoming something greater, as well as the 'negative' state of being devoured by something greater. The inference, of course, is that the ego is shattered creating that ineffable unity with the universe. It's mysticism 101. Whether sound can itself produce this experience is up to each individual listener. Indeed, the mention of mysticism necessarily degrades experience by introducing babel, which is also invoked through Muryama's weirded-out vox punctuation and guttural drones. The music parallels all the violence and beauty mentioned above. In spades.

On that, the recording consists of five tracks, which, when bridged together do induce a trance state. What's more, it isn't the sort of music one might readily associate with trance; it neither drones or repeats itself and therefore does something unique. It also manages to be musical, if in a filmic manner, despite its obvious sound art leanings. Simply put, if you're into sound surrealism, art brut, musique concrete, collage...any of that, it will serve you well to stick this thing into your CD player.

This is typical Intransitive trash: focused, uncompromising, and pretty fuckin' great. 10/10 -- P. Somniferum (19 February, 2008)