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CD Feature/ eRIKm: "Sixperiodes"

  Tobias

He lives in the South of France, he used to be a visual artist, and he started his musical carrier as a rock guitarist. He wrote dance music, according to Mathilde Monnier, a well-known dance chorographer. His latest release ‘sixperiodes’ has been published by Sirr records, a lable well known for experimental music. His name is eRikm.

And I, I just listened to this record, true to its name consisting of six pieces, or ‘periodes’. Just to get started, the only musical instrument I was able to identify was a piano. But let’s not drift too far away, and before you read on I must prepare you for a rather untypical review. Since this is the only way to approach these sounds. Are you ready? Here it goes:

Les paesines
Silence, complete silence. Still silence…. S i l e n c e… far, far away, what seems to be a bell, once rung and the sound looping on and on, louder and louder, like in waves, over a landscape, flat, burnt, dark, suffering under a blistering heat… as do the ‘paesines’… and as it has come, slowly, slowly,  s l o w l y, the sound fades away to where it came from. Until finally, there is silence, complete silence…
Slide
Worn out vinyl, crackling records, adjusting an old radio in outer space. Beeeeeps… rapidly changing frequences, turning from drowned milk in blue color to green smelling piano chords… abrupt changes of frequences… crackling… a hint of a high drum roll, or????
Alliterations
Orange bubbles, fading into greenish rectangulars, blue background that crumbles into acid rain…. I kill a fly,  2:53 minutes into the piece… chimes of purple fading into burning white… yes, the composition smells, it smells like sepia brown… Adjust it! Adjust the damn radio! Wheels in yellow rotating an invisible tape, which drowns in a heavy drizzle of bluish red. Carmino! The new born star erupts into a ray of lightning…
Paris qui Dort
Small waves wash up at the stonewalled boarders of the river Seine. TALK. Crushed paper to place your head on. A fireball emerging from the depth of a galactic ocean, faster and faster… rhythms… slow, than steadier…than dead. DEAD! Boiling oil, a sizzling pan… the waves still…
Slide
Nothing… you know, nothing. Something unidentifiable… No, not from here… not from there… Emptiness… No Structure… No reason… No anything…. Nothing!
Slide
Moon… A moon burries us inside… Yellow rocks, red rocks, sand… quietness… A galaxy absorbs the live and the living… Live? Living? What are we talking about? Wobble… I drink a can of green paint…

By Fred Wheeler

Homepage: eRikm
Homepage: Sirr Ecords