Articles
2015 Artists' Picks
Kevin Kastning
Andy Vaz's House Warming

Albums
17 Pygmies
Aaltonen & Haarla
Rodolphe Alexis
Arca
Autistici
Marc Barreca
Le Berger
Book of Air
Cicada
David Cordero
Council of Nine
DBR UK
En
Green Isac Orchestra
Anders Lønne Grønseth
Hatakeyama + Serries
Heinen & Borring
William Hooker Quartet
How To Cure Our Soul
Kevin Kastning
Kastning / Clements
Kastning / Szabó
Kastning / Wingfield
Library Tapes
loadbang
Louis Minus XVI
Rhys Marsh
Palmbomen II
Radare
sleepland
Smith & Lindberg
Robert Stillman
tholl / fogel / hoff
Julia Wolfe
Wordclock

CD/DVD/Photobook
Kosemura, Shinozaki, Nitta

Compilations / Mixes / Remixes / Reissues
Collection 100
Landscapes of Fear

EPs / Cassettes / Mini-Albums / Singles
Akuratyde
Amonism + Revenant Sea
anthéne
Matt Barbier
Conduct
Hesperius Draco
Martsman
Markus Oehlen
Greg Sawyer

Council of Nine: Diagnosis
Cryo Chamber

On Cryo Chamber's artist page for Council of Nine, we're told Redwood Valley, California resident Maximillian Olivier creates material that “conjure[s] visions of a Lovecraftian deep space and its unspeakable horrors.” In truth, while a powerful sense of foreboding does sometimes permeate his second full-length collection under the Council of Nine name (his debut album Dakhma appeared earlier this year), Olivier offers considerably more than variations on a one-dimensional theme on the seven-track Diagnosis. Though a title such as “I Can See the Fear in Your Eyes” clearly suggests disturbances of thoroughly unsettling kinds, for instance, the physical material itself, an ethereal, deep space ambient-drone, is as likely to induce wonder as much as trepidation.

Crafting his concoctions using synthesizers, guitar, electronic instruments, and field recordings, he generates engulfing dronescapes that extend from ominous (“Rite of Passage”) to awesome (“Sedation”). In the latter, voices, faintly audible beneath epic swathes of synthesizer textures, cryptically murmur as if portending the universe's imminent collapse, whereas choirs intone amidst swollen synth rumblings in “Void of Regret” in a chilly manner that likens Olivier's throbbing set-pieces to isolationism. Adding to the general sense of unease, high-pitched, slightly dissonant winds howl throughout “Riddled with Guilt,” their intensity leavened somewhat by the soft tinkle of a keyboard melody. Diagnosis doesn't appear to possess a formal narrative or story-line, but its deeply atmospheric content is certainly powerful and evocative enough on its own terms. Whatever the story is that it's telling, it's an epic one and very much compatible with Cryo Chamber's vision.

January 2016