RAPOON "Song from the end of the world
Reviews
Legend has it that Robin Storey spent a number of years of his youth in complete silence. If this is true, that alone could be the reason for utter admiration. Then, of course, there’s the constant presence in our listening life: both Zoviet France and Rapoon appear quite frequently among the resonating ectoplasms populating our daily trips (no, it is not meant in a lysergic acceptation). Heaven knows if he remembers the letters we exchanged over a lengthy span in the first half of the 90s, at the early stages of Rapoon’s cycle. All of the above explains why, every time that the occasion arises to check what Storey is doing, we’re all for it in the name of a fundamental respect that has never vanished in spite of a declared preference for the older material. Songs From The End Of The World is a fascinating album for reasons disconnected from a mere sheen factor. Indeed, in terms of immediate gorgeousness it does not even compare to Storey’s finest hours. Still it’s a gripping statement in its own peculiar way, in that it offers no mnemonic handle to clutch at and no comparative light whose halo might suggest interpretations different from its sheer existence as a sonic object in a definite context. The trademark loops are as always essential, yet the listener gets occasionally surprised by strikingly “normal” occurrences (for example, simple piano figurations and barely processed samples and/or presets). More than anything else the voice – apparently utilized in a mix of natural timbre and harmonized pitch transposition across several tracks – furnishes the music with traits of unconsciousness and flexibility at once. Admittedly, a bit of perplexity and a mute “mmmhh” had prevailed at the outset. However, in the subsequent spins your chronicler started to familiarize again with Rapoon’s unique ability in generating highly individual soundscapes while retaining the most important feature of his art. Which is honesty.TOUCHING EXTREMES
Rapoon is Robin Storey, previously known for his work with the legendary group he co-founded, Zoviet France. As a solo artist, he is particularly keen on exploring the notion of the globe’s doom: hence Song from the End of the World. This suite of dark ambience is a meditation on an ancient virus, and carries that vibe pretty effectively. On Glacial Movements.NORMAN RECORDS
La fine del mondo evocata dal titolo del lavoro che segna l’ennesima tappa della sconfinata produzione di Robin Storey sotto la sigla Rapoon non è un concetto astratto o fantascientifico, ma qualcosa che viene dalla notte dei tempi ed è rimasto per millenni incapsulato sotto la calotta polare artica. Proprio l’immaginario ghiacciato ha riportato l’artista inglese a pubblicare sull’etichetta romana Glacial Movements, nove anni dopo “Time Frost”, destinandovi un lavoro di plumbea inquietudine ambientale. Il retaggio post-industriale di Storey si percepisce distintamente nei due monoliti che aprono e chiudono “Song From The End Of The World” e che insieme ne costituiscono circa metà della durata, incapsulata tra la claustrofobia surreale di “We Travelled In Waves” e le cimmerie evanescenze della conclusiva “The Sky Dances In Green”. In mezzo, scorre una torbida ambience sottesa a istantanee granulose (“A Sky Beckons Down”) ed evocazioni allucinate (“A Prophecy Lies Under”), che via via scolorano in soffi arcani, proiettati da una dimensione temporale aliena (“Ancestors Talk In Lands Of Darkness”). È il ritorno a una declinazione oscura e opprimente dell’immaginario ghiacciato, officiato da Storey all’insegna di una foschi scenari tra scienza e fantascienza.MUSIC WONT SAVE YOU
Environmental and lifethreatening issues have been the inspiration for several electronic music releases, such as "Annihilation on Earth" (Holle Mangler), "Atomkraft, nein danke!"(Earth Star), "To Another Horizon" (Gandalf) and "Ecotone (Altus) just to name some. The aural world of chilling and glacial ambient sketched out on Rapoon’s "Song from the end of the world" is somber, dense and often quite foreboding. Robin Storey’s extended, minimal, slightly distorted drone waves and alienating vocal samples featured on each of the nine tracks are spiced with profound suspense, desolation and drama, spreading a hypnotizing realm occasionally. The abstract/experimental approach coupled with raw, dark atmospheres and thick adventurous underlayments though make the outcome a heavyweight and depressing listen. In the end, the recording left me with a miserable feeling.SONIC IMMERSION
Commencer cette chronique m'a fait réaliser à quel point Glacial Movements était passé sous mon seuil radar depuis longtemps. Il faut dire que le dernier album qui m'a vraiment marqué remonte à Alchemy of Ice, composé par le maître des clés Alessandro Tedeschi aka Netherworld en 2013 ; un hymne silencieux capturant la beauté éphémère de la neige, diluant sans excès ses films presque immobiles dans un imaginaire fait d'étendues glacées à perte de vue, de cristaux de glace portés par le vent, et de glaciers millénaires scrutant le temps qui passe. Une description qui s'applique bien sûr au label qui est tenu par l'artiste, qui a déjà convié des invités de marque pour étoffer cette esthétique sonore unique : Amarok de Francisco López, Like a Slow River de Lull ou encore Tele de Pjusk font figure d'excellence dans un catalogue de haute volée (je rajouterai même Novaya Zemlya de Thomas Köner, qui a décidé au dernier moment de le sortir chez Touch alors qu'il était bel et bien destiné à Glacial Movements), bien que mon préféré reste Over the Summit par Netherworld. Bon, assez d'amour et de name-dropping facile répandu dans cette introduction, il est certainement temps de causer du dernier Rapoon paru il y a quelques semaines, annonçant d'ailleurs son retour dans l'écurie italienne après l'excellent Time Frost en 2007. Je ne m'épancherai pas sur le passif long comme le bras de Robin Storey, déjà parce que je n'ai pas eu la motivation de me farcir toute sa propre discographie, mais surtout parce qu'avant tout, il est un des membres fondateurs de l'increvable Zoviet France. Autant dire que dans un curriculum, ça le fait pas mal dans le monde de l'ambient. Retenons simplement que le bonhomme a une certaine fascination du temps et des idées qui y sont rattachées, aimant modeler son aspect linéaire en formes plus ou moins cycliques. Geler le cours du temps, s'y attarder, et s'interroger. Song from the End of the World est d'ailleurs intrigant car il semble se situer en marge de ses précédentes productions. Plutôt que de sélectionner des instantanés à explorer indéfiniment sans contraintes ni appréhensions, on se retrouve dans un couloir temporel parfaitement droit, pressentant une menace impalpable à son issue. La stase fait place au sursis, l'insouciance d'un passé circulaire à la crainte d'un futur parallèle. Se renseigner sur ce qui a inspiré cet album confirme ce que notre instinct nous dicte : Song from the End of the World est le requiem qui accompagnera la libération des virus encore prisonniers du permafrost arctique, lorsque la glace fondra à cause de la folie des Hommes. La bande sonore d'une apocalypse dont l'arrivée est une réalité qui devient chaque jour plus nette. Pénétrant d'abord un paysage de toundras dévastées par le blizzard mais relativement inoffensif dans le morceau d'ouverture, la tension se fait très vite sentir dès A Listening Ice. On retrouve régulièrement, durant la totalité de l'album, un drone tenant la même note anxiogène personnifiant parfaitement la nature de la menace organique et infectieuse en sommeil sous nos pieds, ainsi que la peur de l'inconnu qu'elle suscite. Un danger invisible qu'on veut chasser mais qui persiste à bourdonner dans nos oreilles, une maladie s'insinuant imperceptiblement dans nos entrailles et nous conduisant vers une folie incurable. Mais tout ceci n'est encore qu'une pâle vision d'un futur dystopique, le présent étant seulement au bord du déséquilibre ; c'est dans ce statut de sombre présage que les voix, élément cher à Rapoon, prennent tout leur sens. Dispersées à travers les pistes, elles imposent graduellement leur présence mystique, presque mythologique dans Song from the End of the World. Leurs conversations inintelligibles se confondent avec le vent, elles dédoublent leurs personnalités et en deviennent spectrales, instaurant un malaise ambiant quand elles croisent les dissonances éparses des cordes. Notre raison troublée pourrait presque les interpréter comme un avertissement de la part d'une ancienne civilisation du froid, qui a été décimée en son temps par les mêmes ennemis microscopiques enfouis dans le sol encore gelé. A Sky Beckons Down et A Prophecy Lies Under se placent là comme des artéfacts particulièrement inquiétants, porteurs de malheurs indicibles et imminents. Les lamentations et le tocsin qui résonnent rejoignent ultimement les mauvais présages ondulant dans la haute atmosphère, prenant la forme d'aurores polaires aux teintes verdâtres annonciatrices de maladie et de trépas, dans le vent glacial de The Sky Dances in Green. Mais bien que le disque se termine, l'impression de mal-être persiste, car on réalise que ce qui est présenté ici sous la forme d'une conjecture catastrophiste est pourtant bien un des chemins que l'on s'apprête à prendre en réveillant ces fléaux du passé… Song from the End of the World est un album de dark ambient à essayer, ne serait-ce que pour ce dernier point, car rares sont les travaux du genre à entretenir l'inconfort même après leur écoute. Interrogation lucide sur les probables conséquences d'un fait d'actualité surprenant, la dernière édition de chez Glacial Movements ravive une flamme glacée qui s'était un peu affaiblie dernièrement. Et quand on sait que l'avenir proche du label prévoit entre autres des sorties de Netherworld, de Marsen Jules et surtout d'Eric Holm, on aurait certainement tort de penser que notre intérêt pour la maison va s'arrêter là.SWQW
Of course every Glacial Movements recording is by definition chilly, but that aspect is pushed to an even greater extreme on Robin Storey's Rapoon outing. In certain moments bone-chilling winds howl with such violent intensity, they threaten to drown out the musical content altogether. As an ex-member and co-founder of the legendary outfit Zoviet France, Storey is an experienced hand at sculpting powerfully atmospheric material, and there's certainly no shortage of it on Song From the End of the World. Much as he did with his 2007 release Time Frost, which imagined Europe covered by ice, Storey uses a narrative as a foundation for his musical conception. In this case, researchers from the French National Center for Scientific Research are poised to revive a mega-virus they've discovered in the permafrost of the Russian Arctic that's lain dormant for 30,000 years. Though the scientists offers reassurance that safety precautions will be taken, they also acknowledge the risk of viruses being released in areas where soil or permafrost is melting; ultimately the contention is that the goal of knowledge acquisition trumps all else, regardless of the threats involved. It is in this somewhat foreboding spirit that Storey presents his Song From the End of the World. The recording takes no time at all asserting its dynamic self. In the scene-setting “We Travelled in Waves,” bell strikes punctuate an opaque swirl of rhythmic convulsions and muffled voices, the whole collectively conveying the woozy impression of an hallucinatory dream-state; at almost sixteen minutes, the ultra-evocative opener, as texturally rich and detailed as soundscaping gets, stands as a microcosm for the recording in its entirety. In places the material takes on the character of a fading radio transmission, a last desperate communication from an outpost wrestling with the ravages of disease and psychological instability. Occasionally an instrument sound, such as a lonely piano or plaintive string instrument, rises to the surface, and chant-like vocalizations also add a primeval tone. Said details aside, Storey's focus is on the total sound design. The recording amounts to a rather remarkable addition to the Glacial Movements catalogue. At no time does Storey rest on his laurels and lazily steal from himself; each of the nine settings, while fitting naturally together, presents an unsettling, brooding world unto itself. In fact, these mystery-laden soundtracks are so suggestive, visuals are hardly necessary.TEXTURA
Song from the End of the World“ ist bereits das zweite Album von RAPOON auf dem italienischen Glacial Movements Label, welches uns seit einigen Jahren mit ‘arktischen’ Klängen des Cool Dark Ambient, oder wie man es nennen will, erfreut. Nachdem „Time Frist“ (2007) sicher als einer der Höhenpunkte der Reihe zu bezeichnen ist, hatte ich einige Erwartungen an dieses neue Album, die keineswegs enttäuscht worden sind. Ein wenig überraschend sind anfangs vielleicht die recht warmen, organischen Klänge, mit denen man bei „We travelled in waves“ empfangen wird: Melancholische, irgendwie staubig klingende Loops und minimalistische Melodiefragmente, die einen eine gute Viertelstunde angenehm einlullen. Thematisch wird es dann mit „A listening ice“ klassischer, d.h. kälter, doch auch hier verbreitet ein alles andere als unterkühlt klingendes Vibrieren akustische Spannung, während im Hintergrund Melodie- und leichte sogar Rhythmuselemente zu vernehmen sind: Das Eis hört – und im Eis gibt es einiges zu hören. Mit etwas Gesang (!) überrascht dann das kurze „call of tongues“, während man ansonsten weitestgehend dem instrumentalen Dark Ambient verhaftet bleibt, der allerdings z.B. beim nächsten Song, „A Prophecy lies under“, von getragenen Streichinstrumenten geprägt ist, was wiederum die ‘warme’ Note dieses Albums ausmacht, aber das Ende der Welt, hier wohl eher geographisch als ‘apokalyptisch’ zu verstehen, muss ja durchaus nicht nur Kälte evozieren. Genau diese Kälte ist es dann jedoch schließlich, die sowohl „An answer in ice“ als auch der folgende Track verströmen, der kalte, über die Weite streichende Nordwind ist zwar natürlich nur gesampelt, verbreitet jedoch durch Boxen oder Kopfhörer eine ungeheure Atmosphäre. Mit „The sky dances in green“ mündet die akustische Reise fast in weißes Rauschen, auch hier bleibt der Wind an unserer Seite bzw. in unseren Ohren und lässt uns Ferne erahnen und gute Musik erfahren. Ein wirklich schönes Album für jeden, der mit dieser Art von Musik das Entfernteste anfangen kann. Ganz anders als das ebenfalls sehr angenehme Rapoon-Konzert im Rahmen des Phobos, dem ich letzte Woche beiwohnte und das die eher rhythmische Seite dieses Projekts zeigte, und momentan mein „Dark Ambient“-Favorit.BLACK MAGAZINE
This new release from Robin Storey, known as Rapoon, is based upon an experiment to revive a mega-virus dormant for 30,000 years that French scientists discovered in the permafrost of the Russian Arctic. As this experiments awaken the fear that dangerous viruses could be dormant in Permafrosts and could be released as an effect of climate change, the starting point of this release sounds as an almost perfect subject inserted in the imaginary of Glacial Movements. Under an atmospheric soundscape, the piano loop of "We travelled in waves" opens this release setting the sad mood of a voyage towards the unknown signed by the bell samples; the loop evolves in a second part developed around whistles and hums which are resolved by the return of the loop. "A listening ice" juxtaposes hums and drones to create a menacing soundscape. With "A sky beckons down" the album start to traverse dark ambient territories while "Call of tongues" is a vocal interlude to "A prophecy lies under" which juxtaposes drones and samples until a dulcimer recalls memories of the well known Storey's past; so "Call of deliverance" is an hypnotic track based on loops while "An answer in ice" is almost abstract with his construction based on noises. "Ancestors talk in lands of darkness" is a synth melody upon an evolving noise in the background. "The sky dances in green" starts as a field recording track of a snowfall that acts as a background to the returns of samples from the previous tracks modified to generate a track that gives the creeps for an adverse profecy. The subject of this release is developed in such a way that let astonished as Robin Storey seems able to develop again a truly evocative musical output and sound again fresh after decades of releases which established a genre. Another great release from a real craftsman.CHAIN DLK
If the sound of the Big Bang can still be heard by tapping into cosmic radiation, then perhaps the song sung at the end of the world can be reconstructed from the hole that it left. Rapoon begins to rematerialize the undone physical universe by cultivating the seed pearl of a leitmotif, a piano rolling the same, deep configuration over tongues of hissing sand, tolling bells carried on the crinkled air of the time winds. Over the sigh of planets dying with a whimper not a bang, the piano returns, drifted farther away, slower, heavily echoed. Zithers twinkle like stars in a galaxy reeling, wheeling, shedding useless metals. Prayers from the cloisters of a thousand religions clump together. A more assertive piano sends sparks into Lustmordian darkness, the last violin solo lures banshees into the open and more ghosts slip out through a fracturing orchestra. Northern lights hurtle backward, their greenery swallowed up by a single, freezing dot that then disappears. Time’s arrow has been returned to its quiver. Song from the End of the World is available on Glacial Movements.IGLOO MAGAZINE
ROCKERILLA (05/16)
C’è un mondo alla fine del mondo? Cosa si nasconde al di sotto dei ghiacci? Domande legittime a cui l’uomo prova a dare risposte da un paio di secoli. Non ne esistono, però, né di definite né di definitive. L’esplorazione del sesto continente è in corso. Frequenti gli studi sui c.d. ‘organismi estremofili’. Immancabili anche i rimandi alle sempre floride letterature e mitologie aliene. Nuove, piuttosto, le connessioni musicali, o la colonna sonora ad hoc. Robin Storey, in arte Rapoon, ha provato a immaginare quale sarebbe il futuro dell’umanità se fosse rilasciato un potente virus dormiente da oltre trentamila anni. L’astratto sonoro è solito porsi oltre lo scientifico o il fantascientifico. Stavolta, invece, è legato a doppio filo a una vicenda di cronaca. Un équipe di ricercatori francesi ha scoperto come riportare in vita un virus di dimensioni gigantesche, innocuo nei confronti di esseri umani o animali, rinvenuto nel permafrost del Mar Glaciale Artico. Il patogeno appartiene alla famiglia dei Pithovirus, condividendo solo un terzo dei suoi geni con gli organismi attualmente conosciuti e l’11% complessivo con altre entità virologhe. Appare, dunque, meno remota l’ipotesi che altri virus dormienti possano essere resuscitati dal riscaldamento climatico e dallo scioglimento dei ghiacciai. Secondo i catastrofisti, l’uomo è esposto a un rischio concreto. Altri scienziati appaiono, invece, più cauti. Secondo l’ex membro dei Zoviet France è tempo, tutt’al più, di elevare un canto agli antichi dei, qualche istante prima della fine.“Song From The End Of The World” (2016) tratteggia un futuro dalle tonalità plumbee e dagli echi arcani. La Glacial Movements di Alessandro Tedeschi, il cui catalogo è sempre più ricco, accoglie con piacere le inquietudini e le evocazioni dell’artista britannico, già collezionate in passato all’interno del gelido album “Time Frost” (2007). L’ambient è ancora a temperatura zero. Stavolta, però, la chiave di lettura è meno isolazionista e votata a una maggiore sperimentazione. L’oscurità è immanente e appare proporzionata in intensità alla minaccia che incombe sul pianeta intero. Il surrealismo è in note granulari, ideali per ricoprire scenari foschi. La claustrofobia della potenziale apertura di uno o più devastanti vasi di Pandora è così resa con grande maestria. Rintocchi di campane e fruscii. Un’apertura maestosa. Tensioni sommerse e melodie di pianoforte. We Travelled In Waves ha le sembianze di un enorme locked groove. La continua addizione e sottrazione di suoni s’interrompe al sopraggiungere e al sovrapporsi di una e più voci. Ne deriva un notevole pattern ritmico di parole sussurrate e banchi d’aria. Misticismo e ipnosi viaggiano di pari passo. La successiva A Listening Ice è una traccia meno d’impatto, ma alquanto invasiva sul piano auricolare. La sua semplice struttura fa perno su pochi e lenti movimenti. Ripetuti quasi fino allo sfinimento e imperturbabili di fronte a droni o qualsiasi altro tintinnio di sorta. Il viaggio tra le ostili terre ultime comincia qui. L’atmosfera diviene, infatti, nera come la pece con A Sky Beckons Dawn. Una preghiera nel bel mezzo di una nebbia di distorsioni e sghembe dita sul pianoforte. Il canto Call Of Tongues fa breccia nel muro composto da strati di suoni. Soltanto pochi secondi per prendere fiato. A Prophecy Lies Under, con il suo incipit classicheggiante, incute meno timore, ma non c’è tregua per Rapoon. Un’altra canzone tra voci spezzate e cristalli sonanti. La successiva Call Of Deliverance si trascina stanca, senza particolari sussulti. Il motivo è presto svelato. Nonostante la breve durata, e prima della suite conclusiva, il field recording di An Answer In Ice è il punto più alto di “Song From The End Of The World”. Il sangue si gela. Emergono voci dal profondo. La mente è ormai paralizzata. I gorgheggi del vento sono impressionanti. Dominano anche in Ancestors Talk In Lands Of Darkness, associati in parallelo a un pugno di accordi di chitarra. Infine, i vortici d’aria e le basse pulsioni di The Sky Dances In Green a spazzare via ogni residuo di speranza. La successione di voci maledette è stemperata da perturbazioni soniche. Eppure la fine è solo nel silenzio.ELECTRONIQUE.IT
Robin Storey, cioè Rapoon, cioè un ex Zoviet France, ha un ruolo nella storia di Glacial Movements: è stato il primo nome importante a credere nel concept dell’etichetta di Alessandro Tedeschi e quasi dieci anni dopo può tornarci da buon profeta, tra l’altro con un disco migliore, almeno secondo me. Song From The End Of The World si basa su una ricerca scientifica vera, ma perfetta per il cinema fanta-scientifico: sembra che lo scioglimento dei ghiacci polari possa metterci in contatto con virus preistorici rimasti a lungo ibernati, magari letali per noi uomini del Ventunesimo Secolo. Con in testa quest’ipotesi, l’album diviene la colonna sonora perfetta della nostra paura che qualcosa stia per infettarci. Storey sistema sample, loop e alcuni drone in modo molto chiaro e intellegibile, “tradizionale” verrebbe da scrivere, ma del resto si parla di un uomo di 50-60 anni che ha vissuto l’epoca dei pionieri. Non inventa nulla che chi segue il genere non abbia provato mille volte, ma ha la capacità di assemblare suoni impalpabili e inquietanti, adattissimi al paesaggio che l’etichetta intende evocare e alla storia che lui vuole raccontare. Decisivo il ricorso alla voce e ai campionamenti vocali (Kara-Lis Coverdale e Tim Hecker stanno prendendo appunti): si finisce per credere di stare in mezzo al nulla, con temperature molto al di sotto dello zero, e di ascoltare le voci dei morti, pronti ad accoglierci “dall’altra parte”, e a volte invece pare che qualcosa di infinitesimale, prigioniero del freddo ma vivo, stia emettendo una specie di lamento… e che stia aspettando noi, i suoi futuri corpi-ospite. Un solido lavoro di genere.THE NEW NOISE
Song from the End of the World is a particularly apt title for this collection of ambient drones and soundscapes, so downbeat is its tone and so glacial is its nature. However, the end that we assume is envisaged by English sound-artist Rapoon is one that comes with a whimper rather than a bang – Song from the End of the World conjures a feeling of resigned acceptance regarding the apocalypse of all apocalypses, rather than one of furious denial, melodramatic pity or unhinged self-destruction. What makes this record more remarkable is that Rapoon manages to convey the same sense of dread, wrongness and inevitably contained within the real-life story that inspired it: the recent decision by French scientists to revive a dormant mega-virus that had been found in the permafrost of the Russian Arctic, where it had sat undiscovered and undisturbed for more 30,000 years. Aside from the obvious terror that such a decision evokes in us, it also heralded further horrors: it opened the world’s eyes to the potential for climate change to awaken more dangerous viruses locked away in areas of the far north, where frozen soil or permafrost is rapidly melting. So far, so end of the world… However, rather than tell this story through spoken word or lyrics, Rapoon takes a non-narrative approach and musically and sonically expresses our emotional responses to these nightmarish decisions and scenarios, and intertwines the results with heavily textured soundscape/soundtrack pieces that aurally paint a picture of the post-apocalyptic end-point of these decisions and scenarios. Sometimes, his oh-so-slowly evolving drones seem like the heartbeat of the world, the changing of the seasons, the passing of untold years – as if we’ve been taken to a place where time is measured in centuries and millennia, rather than hours and days, and the end of the world is actually just part of a cycle of birth, death and rebirth. Sometimes, his pieces seem like audio snippets of the few survivors living out their days, the sound quality ragged and raw and grainy, as if overheard from afar or delivered via radio. Sometimes, they seem like field recordings of the empty cities, deserted lands and frozen wastes of this end-point, a place where synthetic sounds and industrial clangs and recordings of real-life wildernesses collide and comingle and create something unsettlingly new. Taking Song from the End of the World apart song-by-song is really beside the point – it functions as a whole, with each track bleeding into the next, and its moods and atmospheres seem designed to follow a plan. All that needs to be said is that if you’re after something that’s dark, down and nightmarish without being abrasive or noisy, then this is the thing for you.CYCLIC DEFROST
Genre/Influences: Abstract, dark-ambient, experimental, soundscape. Background/Info: Robin Storey will be forever linked to his previous formation Zoviet France although Rapoon for sure gained a similar recognition. Storey has been releasing under the Rapoon moniker since the early 90s and has released an endless discography. “Song From The End Of The World” seems to be the first Rapoon-album from 2016. Content: Robin Storey has been inspired by ecology and the danger behind the melt of the Arctic ice mass. It’s a dark and apocalyptic theme, which unfortunately might even become reality. The abstract and experimental soundscape created by Rapoon will not become the most efficient ecologic weapon to bring politicians and all humans aware of this danger, but it’s an interesting and important theme. Music also is the ultimate way of expression for an artist like Robin Storey to express his feelings about the subject. He transposed and eventually exorcised his thoughts throughout a unique ambient sound experience made of mysterious moods, manipulated noises, echoing sound, buzzing sound waves and even a kind of ritual-minded vocal parts. It’s not the typical dark-ambient experience, but an intriguing creation filled with an entire arsenal of noises and sound treatments. Some parts are touching real freaky ground while other passages are more into a kind of sterile reverie even featuring a sad, melodic element. + + + : The main strength of the album is the ambient diversity, which is totally different from the usual standards. I like the diversity and the elaboration of the work. - - - : The somewhat abstract and experimental approach is not always the most accessible element of the album while I can imagine some fans will miss the tribal touch Rapoon has often created. Conclusion: “Song From The End Of The World” is a kind of imaginary requiem for a day, that will hopefully never come true. It’s a poignant testimony from a brilliant, visionary artist! Best songs: “A Prophecy Lies Under”, “A Sky Beckons Down”, “The Sky Dances In Green”. Rate: (7½).SIDE LINE
Rapoon je Robin Storey, bývalý člen Zoviet France, který má na svém kontě od roku 1992 desítky desek na Staalplaat, Soleilmoon a dalších značkách. Na Glacial Movements zaúřadoval už v roce 2007 kompaktem Time Frost. Ten konec světa na nejnovějším CD Song from the End of the World nás nemusí mýlit – mezi názvy dřívějších alb najdeme totiž třeba Padlé bohy, Bludné anděly nebo Studenou válku. Tentokrát se však zdá, že jde skutečně do tuhého. Až sférické rozhlučení s valícími se ambientními vlnami nás zahltí od prvního momentu, obklopí nás nekončící příboj strmé hudby, nástražné, varovné, prošátrávané, proklepávané, prozvoňované, plné probíjivých zvukolamů. Vše se děje v jednom (vele)toku s nastavovanými výhrůžnými peripetiemi, občas až s hrůznou majestátností. Daň programu labelu platí i bloudivé (nikoli obludné) a recyklovávané vyjádření zamrzávané poledovice a řítivé fičivosti. Ale to už nás s dráždivým drážněním očekává padající nebeská klenba, zamodlitbovaná a zachórovodněná a mementující s mýtizujícím vokálem. Na chvíli si připadáme jako v pravoslavném chrámu, kde je všeobjímající vyrojivá melodie přetavena do hromovládné litánie, samospasitelně modloslužebné, prolétaváné i zalétavé. Zadíravá, téměř naříkavá skučivost, výderná, až vydíravá, spěje k vizi, jež může být tou základní otázkou: existuje šance? Jenomže odpovědi se hned tak nedočkáme. Naopak: skučivé umíráčkování, plné prokluzné prochládavosti, nás vede k melanži vzájemné hrůzyplnosti a posvátnosti, meluzínové vichrno nás přesvědčuje, že bys do tohoto tématu ani psa nevyhnal. Po ječivostním šírání však přece jenom závěr roztančí rozkřídleně třeskuté vzedmutí s prostorovanou vichrovostí, další a další poryvy nad syčivostním plynutím durdivě hárají do nečasí s cinkotním rolováním… kam? Do záhubného skonávání nebo do prodyšného znovuoživování? Ne, Storey nám nehodlá poslytnout jasné vyznění. Místo toho těch devět výronů prosvišťované pádovosti zalykavostně dofičí a ponechá nám k úvaze, zda následuje zánik nebo nekonečnost. Je to jedno z hodně přesvědčivých alb Glacial Movements.UNI MAGAZINE
JUNO
I più anziani tra voi forse ricorderanno una realtà sonica inglese che si nutriva di “elettronica primitiva”, un collettivo post-tutto che risponde allo strano nome di :zoviet*france attivo fin dal lontano 1980. Robert Storey aka Rapoon è stato uno dei fondatori di questa incredibile adunanza di ricercatori e lo ritroviamo ora – non nuovo a pubblicazioni in terra Glacial: si ascolti Time Frost del 2007 – alle prese con scoperte scientifiche che potrebbero cambiare il corso delle cose, portando il mondo verso la sua fine. Questa è la colonna sonora che accompagna l'ascoltatore in un viaggio scientifico alla scoperta di un virus congelato nel permafrost artico, un campione vecchio 30.000 anni che potrebbe rivelarsi fatale per la razza umana. Il senso di inquietudine costante lascia che l'immaginazione vaghi attraverso gli sconfinati spazi abitati dal gelo e dal vento, ci si lascia attrarre da questo linguaggio ipnotico tanto che i contorni del nostro ascoltare cambiano trasformando una spedizione scientifica in un viaggio attraverso il tempo, alla scoperta di ciò che eravamo, 30.000 anni or sono. Un suono che amalgama le materie, l'uomo e la natura ritornano ad essere una sola cosa, la calma e la pace del loro ancestrale dialogare sovrastano l'ululato del vento artico che cessa all'improvviso cedendo al fascino della pausa donata dal mistero.SHERWOOD
« … Un univers, pour être en expansion, suppose un passé plus dense – si dense qu’il explose. Si cette explosion a eu lieu, elle suppose à son tour une chaleur si extraordinaire qu’elle devrait émettre encore un rayonnement fossile. En 1992 un satellite nord-américain baptisé Cosmic Background Explorer mit au jour ce bruit de fond de l’univers, exhuma ce rayonnement obscur fossile, décela cette trace de jadis. » Pascal Quignard, La Nuit sexuelle Inspiré par la découverte récente d’un mégavirus dans le sous-sol sibérien, Robin Storey / Rapoon réalise son deuxième album pour le label italien Glacial Movements. Avec Robin Storey, le thème de la glace, de la zone polaire, qui guide toute adhésion à ce label, se lit de nouveau comme facteur d’entropie – une Europe couverte par la glace en effet retour du réchauffement climatique sur Time Frost en 2007 (les boucles du Beau Danube bleu soumises au filtre givrant), et aujourd’hui une autre catastrophe, patiemment retenue dans la glace et remise au jour par les biologistes. Une fin de l’humanité causée par un virus préhistorique, voilà le thème d’un récit de science-(de moins en moins)fiction, et maintenant le prétexte à une belle série de compositions. Au virus en dormance, au bruit de fond de la naissance de l’univers, Robin Storey propose en réponse un chant de fin du monde, le chant d’une autre nuit. Maître de la boucle, il réunit en manière d’introduction le crépitement d’une glace en douce fusion, la résonance miroitante d’une surface en ébauche de mouvement et la ritournelle d’une phrase de corde dévorée par sa propre réverbération dans les stalactites de glace.Apparaissent ensuite, de loin en loin, des voix, bouclées pour la plupart, incorporées à la réverbération comme toujours dans le geste de Rapoon, fredonnant en un seul son modulé la formule d’un récit mythique remonté non du début des jours mais depuis leur fin (Robin Storey écrit « This is my song from the end of the world »). Toute la musique de l’album se meut sous la surface d’une glace qu’elle concourt à contrarier, à sculpter et parfois à perforer. Le mélange des températures, des humeurs, des densités, se concrétise en cristallisations horlogères, en flots bourdonnants, en fuseaux de voix fantomales. La navigation sourde s’illumine et s’enlumine, la vague et le bourdon s’accordent à l’appel de la lumière, répondent par ce chant qui parfois prend voix masculine (celle de Robin Storey lui-même) en incantation. Toute matière tend ainsi à rejoindre la glace amollie, à s’y dissoudre pour recristalliser plus loin. Parfois, le tour est escarpé (touches de piano, cordes de violon s‘élevant puis repleuvant), marbrant le paysage sonore. Contemplant une telle musique, à mesure que l’album s’écoule, ne voit-on pas, de plus en plus panoramique, le tableau mouvant d’un drame infernal où les puissances éveillées se rappellent la fin…FEAR DROP
The Glacial Movements name is synonymous with winter music, as every release contains a cold-inspired theme. Song from the end of the world is the label’s darkest release of the year, imagining a future in which global warming unlocks viruses from the ice. This may be science fiction, but it’s based on fact, a chilling truth reflected in the music. Looped melodies are joined by shortwave radio transmissions, decayed voices and a sense of impending doom. “A Listening Ice” and “An Answer in Ice” are especially powerful, hovering like unseen, unstoppable threats. Click on the link below for more 2016 winter music from Glacial Movements, including albums by Chihei Hatakeyama & Dirk Serries, Philippe Petit, Aria Rostami & Daniel Blomquist and Council State Electronics.A CLOSER LISTEN