when the word was (((sound))) - Submersion
Since 2006, instrumental duo, when the word was (((sound))),
has flown quietly under most radar, engaging in genuinely ritualistic
exploration of improvised post-rock, ambient, and New Age vibrations. The pair possess
a knack for mining beauty and bliss without ever straying into merely pacifying
pastures. Call it aural wallpaper with a soul.
Inspired by naturalistic themes such as water and outer
space, the duo employs a kind of loose conceptualization resulting in recordings
that are cohesive without being static. The music simply breathes. The band’s
latest self-released CD, the truly excellent Submersion, documents a band that’s found its voice and hit its
stride. On display is a keen sense of balance: lulling, meditative drones
matched by moments of dramatic intensity. More specifically, listening to Submersion is like an aquatic joyride.
One is at once entranced with sunken, alien vistas while enjoying the thrill of
being under-fucking-water, dude. Not
a bad way to spend an hour if you ask me.
Hailing from Lake
Charles, Louisiana, an
unassuming city nestled in the marshy “boot” of a state with deep ties to
traditional American and local music forms, pursuing its uncompromised vision
has proven to be both a challenge and a gift for the band. It’s been said that
where culture is narrowly defined, counter-culture naturally becomes all the
weirder. To be fair, when the word was (((sound))) probably won’t sound all
that weird to anyone reading this blog, but I somehow imagine them puzzling
many an ear in their native land. I love that. Oh, to be a fly on the wall at
any one of their gigs.
Crafting experimental sound in a land known better for white
blues, swamp pop, and modern country music, band members, Brandon Pittman
(((sounds))) and Amanda Sonnier (((percussion))), have more than once been
forced to simply turn inward and to play for one another. It is precisely this
kind of practice that best scratches my philosophical itches—that is to say,
for me, there’s nothing purer than art created solely for the sake of catharsis.
Absent on Submersion is adherence to trends
and expectations that come with having a ready-made audience. Being
geographically untethered to “a scene” has afforded the duo a kind of organic musical
development that would otherwise not likely occur. Thank the heavens for this. In this case, I suppose, thank Neptune.
Listening to Submersion,
it’s easy to imagine the band’s members as traveling companions on the
interstellar sonic byways that connect all things—land, water, people,
thoughts, dreams, everything, and nothing. Tracing the project’s progress from inception
to date, one can’t help but to hear a merging of minds. I hear a steady
transformation of two pals with groovy dreams to something ever-increasingly
becoming like that of a single organism. Sonnier propels the craft with oft-complex,
metronomic rhythms. Think Neu! without the stringency. Pittman assumes the task
of coloring space and creates expressive brushstrokes of warm, enveloping sound
with a palette informed by everything from post-expressionist visual art to
Johnny Greenwood’s film scores to traditional Delta blues. Listening to when
the word was (((sound))) at their best is like watching two great chefs bake
the same pie.
Submersion earns big points for its pacing as well as a restrained but highly effective production value, all wrapped up in a handsome package that keeps with the aquatic theme. The musical suite that also shares the album title, “Submersion,” offers panoramic glimpses of shimmering, extraterrestrial beauty interspersed between propulsive mini-voyages into underwater caves, reefs, and lost cities. An underwater fantasy that acts as a coming-out party for a band to keep your eye on. See the band’s website at www.whenthewordwassound.com To purchase the album directly, go to http://wtwws.bigcartel.com/product/submersion
