Geoff Wilt | Not-Landscape
Flag Day Recordings
The modular Not-Landscape of the U.S. capital-based composer Geoff Wilt is as-advertised, a digital topography, changing, morphed, shifting in sonic undulations. For thirty-eight minutes this singular work remains present for all its meandering sensibilities. Wilt’s atmosphere competes between dense and light as air.
Having as much in common with German prog rock as it does with contemporary melodic ambient, his is a sound that is ultimately that of psychedelic fantasy. In fact, the more I delve in here, the more apparitions seemingly appear amid the insect-like quiet base. Wilt’s take on the ‘landscape’ is futuristic, somewhat hopeful, but also estranged from what we now know and take as commonplace. Invisible walls, curvy passages, colorful highgarden-like flourishes. Though this instantly has a timeless quality it also feels as though it contains twinkling junctures of a by-gone hippy era by way of a deep classical cleansing.
Are those fireworks aside soundwaves? Is this a measurement of our earthly excesses, and is this proof that Mother Nature can repair itself with or without the fateful footsteps of man, and will that end be one of pure desolation? By enclosing a range of chorale vocals, nestled like pure drone, every twisting floorboard creak makes (and defies) the senses in this visionary dreamworld. Stunning ascension of expressive velocity follows until the wee moments of this recording, until the gears of this ‘rollercoaster’ becomes weary and nature begins to envelop the detritus of another time.