Disorientating, disconnected and somewhat distant, three descriptors that mightn’t, on initial reading, warm the heart towards ‘Disappearing’, the latest opus from sound alchemist Adriano Zanni. Tense and brooding though not for the usually obvious reasons that lurks on other releases so described, for here a dream like stasis is woven, a collective hive mind forged upon an amorphous sonic skin, at once shape shifting, fluid and hitherto, evolving from a fixed point stare to form a conversation within the realms of your deepest consciousness.
Both insular and intimate, this is not pop, there are no verse chorus verse mimicking to hook upon, utilising both analogue and digital sources interspersed with field recordings, Zanni creates a personal connection / space, depending on both mood and environment, each forty minute sitting in the company of ‘disappearing’ creates a uniquely sculptured playroom for the mind’s eye to wander, no two experiences are the same, it’s as though it intuitively senses you.
That’s not to say, a degree of acclimitisation is required of the listener, for on initial listens, ‘Disappearing’ might well appear darkly chilled, somberly stilled and somewhat alien, to this end it has the disturbing effect of constantly shifting focus to put you on the back foot, the sonic snapshots or rather more, aural polaroids, forming a disconnecting and somewhat incomplete picture whose missing pieces / parts are for you to complete in your own imagination.
As said, the setting is minimalist and abstract, not so much left field but more out and beyond, these five sonic segments exist in an airless state, perhaps moments frozen in time expanded and magnified , the messages confused, overlapping and disorientating, their blurring effects eerily akin to those in dream or one of those instruction tapes to aid relaxation (see ‘dreams and falling trees’) only rather than lulled by the sound of the genteel ebb and flow of oceanic sprays or celestial unworldliness, this ones common denominator are the sounds of footsteps, disembodied whispers both crystal clear and backward looped (as on ‘what is left’ whereupon to a hypno grooved binary pulse a sense of subliminal conditioning is afoot) and creaking swings, at least I hope it’s creaking swings.
‘disappearing’ is ultimately about escape (finding that safe place and personal space) and the relative inconsequence of man when seen backdropped by life and creations bigger picture, an escape from the commercial machine, social presets and the eye of society that all see fit to control our life and limit our choice by a series of teachings from a young age whose aim is to keep us subservient and needy. In short a longing for the inner spirit to be free. It’s sense of drifting and losing itself embodied perfectly by the textured collages, themselves made up of bowed frequencies and microlite pulsars that collectively conspire to carve an isolationist atmosphere. The detailing is intricate and measured, the effect both mesmeric, distant and yet turned with an insular and inward aspect. Perhaps the most disquieting moment throughout, ‘about the end, without beginning’ garners a shadowy industrial aura to its persona, amid the ice cooled emotionless swathes of mind focusing shimmering orb cycles, a message of dissent utters, a seed dropped in to the sleeping subconscious revealing the lie of the machine.
the sunday experience 