Distortion of a Cell by Seasons (pre-din)

Seasons (pre-din) | Distortions of a Cell
Forwind
(CD/DL)

If within the first few moments of Distortion of a Cell one is not enraptured by the rhythmic noise and pulsating mechanical beats, listeners may have neglected the grand contemplative noise that Seasons (pre-din) generates in this cathartic odyssey.  The first three tracks evolve in a theme – one which begets minimal percussive elements while sustaining an exemplary mono-tonistic quality.  By the time whipping obscure threads enter the scene in track five, 02.06, the post-industrial vibe is locked in.  

The seamless continuation onto 11.06 – an eleven minute track with respirations and din which lead the listener into a popping tectonic whirl grants a surprise like the realization of a full scale of grey.  As the cover art suggests, here is contemporary brutalism.  I bobble my head to the minimal suggestion but feel ripe with sensation as the mix is flooded with static variations.  Is that someone screaming?  Is there a dialogue drowned out in the hiss?

Before endeavoring into this latest contrived, structured chaos, I explored the Seasons (pre-din) discography.  What one encounters here is far more evolved and developed than the minimalist ambient of years past releases.  The theme of numeric, quadratic monikers stays consistent with the historic library established.  However, in this album there is a grasp of grandeur in the flooding of dramatic tension.  06.18 (the seventh track) subsides into a pressurized ascendant hull.  

The ghost-ship sails on in 03.08.  What the listener grasps for is Brian Eno’s ‘An Ending (Ascent)’ but the convoluted radio garble won’t allow such transcendent mercies.  While distant choral waves melodically rapture, the constant white-drone both grounds and grits the ears.  Is the listener being subject to the composer’s masochism?  I find myself pleased and at ease regardless.  Unto echoic drone, and not quite ‘harsh’ (but close) sound wall, is the finalé 04.40.  The numeric palindrome washes out all other than itself.  The listener is rendered exhausted and warped by the conclusion of this 44 minute epic.

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