For slugabed’s duration, Veliotis and Filip seem to always be seeking an equilibrium, never comfortable with the one they’re currently nestled in. Despite this fickle dynamic, the music is never inpatient, nor worried. Like the drunk donkey (? horse?) depicted on its cover, slugabed is utterly comfortable with its languid meandering.
Those familiar with Veliotis’ music, whether composed or improvised, probably have an idea what this meeting sounds like. A drone-based improvisation, slugabed resembles Veliotis’ 2011 affair (with Ferran Fages and Robin Hayward) Tables and Stairs, except in this 2010 instance, the electronics meld more synchronously with Veliotis’ cello. Klaus Filip’s sine waves bubble to the surface at times, even taking a leading role midway through; nonetheless, both when Filip and Veliotis take the lead, each seems like only a minor perturbation from their formative equilibria.
Most striking to me is the evolution of Veliotis’ sound. Initially Veliotis’ instrument is unmistakably his cello, with its natural acoustic reverberations. Yet through the course of slugabed, his sound transforms into an airy metallic one, approaching that of a flute. This may be of Filip’s doing, whether actively manipulating Veliotis’ aura or the result of the constant juxtaposition against Filip’s elevated tones.
I realize that I may not be the most objective critic of Veliotis’ music; he combines, with uniquely stellar quality, two of my favorite sorts of music (drone and improv). As such, I often get the feeling that he can do no wrong, akin to Taku Sugimoto. Yet as Brian O said in his review, “There’s drone music and then there’s drone music. This is as fine an example of the latter as I’ve recently heard.” Obviously I cannot agree more. Unlike those more associated with drone culture, there’s a delicacy to slugabed, which exudes as a permanency. Instead of the rushed, one-off improvisations dominating cassette culture (which still often are to my liking), I feel a more lasting connection to works like that of slugabed. (killedincars.com)
Those familiar with Veliotis’ music, whether composed or improvised, probably have an idea what this meeting sounds like. A drone-based improvisation, slugabed resembles Veliotis’ 2011 affair (with Ferran Fages and Robin Hayward) Tables and Stairs, except in this 2010 instance, the electronics meld more synchronously with Veliotis’ cello. Klaus Filip’s sine waves bubble to the surface at times, even taking a leading role midway through; nonetheless, both when Filip and Veliotis take the lead, each seems like only a minor perturbation from their formative equilibria.
Most striking to me is the evolution of Veliotis’ sound. Initially Veliotis’ instrument is unmistakably his cello, with its natural acoustic reverberations. Yet through the course of slugabed, his sound transforms into an airy metallic one, approaching that of a flute. This may be of Filip’s doing, whether actively manipulating Veliotis’ aura or the result of the constant juxtaposition against Filip’s elevated tones.
I realize that I may not be the most objective critic of Veliotis’ music; he combines, with uniquely stellar quality, two of my favorite sorts of music (drone and improv). As such, I often get the feeling that he can do no wrong, akin to Taku Sugimoto. Yet as Brian O said in his review, “There’s drone music and then there’s drone music. This is as fine an example of the latter as I’ve recently heard.” Obviously I cannot agree more. Unlike those more associated with drone culture, there’s a delicacy to slugabed, which exudes as a permanency. Instead of the rushed, one-off improvisations dominating cassette culture (which still often are to my liking), I feel a more lasting connection to works like that of slugabed. (killedincars.com)
Details
Cat. number: HIbari 19
Year: 2010
