William Basinski Drone Ambient Musician

The next title in the “Music You Should Hear Series” is a profile of drone/ambient musician William Basinski. His work as a musician, composer, remixer, and producer is a marriage of opposites: classical/populist; ephemeral/timeless; Eastern/Western (both in terms of the United States, and the wider world); inspired/crafted, ambient/overwhelming. Basinski's music - largely focused on aged recordings made with archaic technology - is an extended meditation on longing and decay, bursting forth into an infinite state of eternal grace.

Yma Sumac: Exotica World Music Vocalist The next Musician Snapshots book in the 'Music You Should Hear Series' is a profile of singer Yma Sumac. With a four-octave range, Peruvian vocalist Yma (pronounced EE-ma) Sumac shocked and captivated 1950s America and became a household name around the world. Her first few albums included loose interpretations of South American melodies with Afro-Cuban rhythms and Western-style instrumentation, making her albums avant garde yet accessible, and cementing her status as the queen of the new musical genre of “exotica.” Not only did her extremely wide octave range make audiences stop in their tracks (for reference, most people have a singing range of around 2-3 octaves), but her fearless vocal experimentation was a stark contrast to the sweet crooners like Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby who were the top sellers in 1950, the year her first album was released. She was soon featured on Broadway, cast in movies alongside stars such as Charlton Heston, and performing sold-out shows from Las Vegas to New York.

Small Gods deconstructs the mythology of the drone: as soothing sound, aerial spy, and killing machine. When we say 'drone technology,' we can mean the tanpura, a plucked-string instrument originating in 16th century India, or the Gorgon Stare, an aerial surveillance technology designed by the US military - and evoke competing notions of terror and transcendence. Small Gods leans into this ambiguity. As each chapter focuses on the work of an artist with a unique understanding of 'the drone', the book illuminates myriad facets of these entangled technological entities. Opening with William Basinki's first glimpse of the ash-clouds of 9/11 - which spawned both The Disintegration Loops and the drone-driven War on Terror - the narrative then zooms into the representational sleights of hand of British and American artists preoccupied with the West's stake in endless drone wars. Its midsection lands us in the doldrums: where Anne Imhof's Angst, Anna Mikkola's drone-watched runner, and Atef Abu Saif's drone war memoir find maddening safety in boredom, raising questions about the trade-offs between security and surveillance. In the final section, the narrative uncouples from earthly oppression - we're freed to explore future and spirit worlds with artists including Korakrit Arunanondchai, Lawrence Lek, and WangShui, all of whom use drone technology to envision a future beyond the burden of colonialism, racism, exclusion or, simply, representation. Empty metal becomes a vessel for escape, connection, or intention; a future-facing spirit, a ride into the afterlife, a god or a ghost.

This book explores the ways in which music can engender religious experience, by virtue of its ability to evoke the ineffable and affect how the world is open to us. Arguing against approaches that limit the religious significance of music to an illustrative function, The Extravagance of Music sets out a more expansive and optimistic vision, which suggests that there is an ‘excess’ or ‘extravagance’ in both music and the divine that can open up revelatory and transformative possibilities. In Part I, David Brown argues that even in the absence of words, classical instrumental music can disclose something of the divine nature that allows us to speak of an experience analogous to contemplative prayer. In Part II, Gavin Hopps contends that, far from being a wasteland of mind-closing triviality, popular music frequently aspires to elicit the imaginative engagement of the listener and is capable of evoking intimations of transcendence. Filled with fresh and accessible discussions of diverse examples and forms of music, this ground-breaking book affirms the disclosive and affective capacities of music, and shows how it can help to awaken, vivify, and sustain a sense of the divine in everyday life.

Drone and Apocalypse is an exhibit catalog for a retrospective of twenty-first-century art. Its narrator, Cynthia Wey, is a failed artist convinced that apocalypse is imminent. She writes critical essays delineating apocalyptic tendencies in drone music and contemporary art. Interspersed amid these essays are “speculative artworks”, Wey’s term for descriptions of artworks she never constructs that center around the extinction of humanity. Wey’s favorite musicians are drone artists like William Basinski, Celer, Thomas Köner, Les Rallizes Dénudés, and Éliane Radigue, and her essays relate their works to moments of ineffability in Herodotus, Aristotle, Plato, Pliny the Elder, Isidore of Seville, Robert Burton, Hegel, and Dostoyevsky. Well after Wey’s demise, the apocalypse never arrives, but Wey’s journal is discovered. Curators fascinated with twenty-first-century culture use her writings as the basis for their exhibit “Commentaries on the Apocalypse”, which realizes Wey’s speculative artworks as photographs, collages, and sound/video installations.

In this spellbinding book, the man described by the Daily Telegraph as 'possibly the best living writer in Britain' takes on his biggest challenge yet: unlocking the film that has obsessed him all his adult life. Like the film Stalker itself, it confronts the most mysterious and enduring questions of life and how to live.

"An inspired and intuitive navigation of the drone continuum . . . with a compass firmly set to new and enlightening psychedelic truths"-- BECK In 1977 Sniffin' Glue verbalised the musical zeitgeist with their infamous 'this is a chord; this is another; now form a band' illustration. The drone requires neither chord nor band, representing - via its infinite pliability and accessibility - the ultimate folk music: a potent audio tool of personal liberation. Immersion in hypnotic and repetitive sounds allows us to step outside of ourselves, be it chant, a 120dB beasting from Sunn O))), standing front of the system as Jah Shaka drops a fresh dub or going full headphone immersion with Hawkwind. These experiences are akin to an audio portal - a sound Tardis to silence the hum and fizz of the unceasing inner voice. The drone exists outside of us, but also - paradoxically - within us all; an aural expression of a universal hum we can only hope to fleetingly channel. Monolithic Undertow is the definitive text to explore the music of drone and its related genres. Exhaustively researched this tome will not leave music fans interested in drone, doom, metal, and folk music unsatisfied.