Mathijs Leeuwis: Généalogies
M. Leeuwis Music

Whereas Mathijs Leeuwis's 2018 release Galibier presented him playing pedal steel in a quartet context, Généalogies accentuates a different side of the Tilburg, Netherlands-based artist. On this twenty-seven-minute, twelve-inch vinyl release, Leeuwis indulges his sound explorer persona with material rooted in reel-to-reel technology (specifically the Revox B77), magnetic tape, and the Korg Stage Echo (the photo image at the top of his Bandcamp page shows the elaborate setup used to create the recording). The project grew out of his desire to explore connections between memory and analogue sound sources; with both being prone to errors of a kind, each can be seen as an ode to imperfection or, in his words, “an ode to our failing memory.”

A perusal of the sleeve tucked within the vinyl cover encourages an enhanced appreciation for the musical result, with Leeuwis laying out in diagrammatic displays the steps involved in the production process. A flow chart clarifies the manner by which multiple reels, stage echo applications, and tape speeds were deployed in the recording stage before the resultant six reels were finessed during the mixing stage to bring the piece to its finished form. In keeping with the spirit of the project and its focus on the memory inconsistencies we're prone to over time is Janine Hendrik's artwork; each of the 200 album covers was printed individually and is thus different from the others. The methodology used by Hendrik is thus consistent with the fully analogue character of the release's tape-loop based material.

In terms of the music itself, the two-part soundscape (the first especially) plays like an oft-serene variant of deep ambient. Its originating elements form a tactile, ebbing-and-flowing wash of vaporous sound; there are moments where pedal steel timbres appear to emerge, though the blurry quality of the presentation makes the determination difficult: the tones hum in a way that suggests they could just as easily have been synthesizer-generated (though that would be inconsistent with the analogue concentration of the project). Regardless, the graceful motions with which the collective sound exhales manifests a tonal character that's alternately melancholy, wistful, and dreamlike. An occasional woozy warble surfaces to remind the listener of the tape-based technology in play, as does the music's sometimes grainy texture. Such deteriorations grow all the more emphatic during the second part, Leeuwis perhaps wishing to emphasize through the gesture the erosion in memory that comes with increased temporal distance from originating experience. Needless to say, Généalogies should be played at high volume in order for its textural nuances to be fully appreciated.

November 2020