may HD | Sonho Dobrado
Pan y Rosas Discos (DL)
This sounds live, bloated with frisky, rickety turntablism and microkorg. This is my intro to Brazilian artist may HD‘s (Andrea May) sound and it comes with peaks and valleys, the good kind. At times the din of echo intrudes, but also somehow gives it its brusque mono-sheen. There’s a grinding noise layer with a voice sample that evolves out of drone. On the title track may HD leans towards the secretive in squeaks and small actions. It’s like a broken record circling round – stops, starts and agitation.
This hits me like the residual sounds you might get when a troupe is readying to open a traveling circus. Tanta takes this further by incorporating that sound you get when rubbing an inflated balloon acts as a quasi beat alongside truncated vocal samples on a loop. It has a groove, but its far from groovy, more like a barbershop quartet gone left.
In what quickly becomes a sound collage from two (or more) sources, seiva selva flutters in like a cranky sci-fi mixed with a Godzilla soundtrack. It’s a stunning collapse of right and left channels bantering back and forth, and the futile, yet ear-teasing attempt at making rhythm from fragments. The fleeting warble of tá me ouvindo bem? is next (and last). In these last six minutes she winds things up, encapsulates a frustrated someone banging away at a door, and then finds a certain solace in the complete in-between-ness of it all. For a noise record, this has a lot of restraint abutting the desolation of the human spirit. This is not to say Sonho Dobrado is overly melancholic, rather it seems to explore the shadier recesses in a unique way.