Any doubt that the term "drone,"
as applied to this sort of music, is completely and
ridiculously misleading should be eliminated after
listening to this recording. While all sorts of pulsing
tones are used and thrown away on Long Heat, the most
noticeable aspect this collaboration is that it never
sits still or relies on constant droning sounds to
achieve its rather confusing effect. Kuwayama Kiyoharu,
otherwise known as Lethe, and Jonathan Coleclough
construct a fairly ominous set of sounds, one on top
of the other, until they produce the sound of music
burning. Crackling, sticks snapping, and slowly detuned
winds flow through a series of almost indefinable
transitions; each new sound ushers in a new palette
and a fresh movement. Sounding almost like a variation
on a theme, the duo slowly allows an intensity to
build, never really letting go and simply adding intriguing
sounds as they move along, almost as though they were
eager to drop the old ones as quickly as possible.
At around the 21 minute mark, the atmosphere begins
to spiral out of a control ever so slightly: the clanking
of metal, the sounds of birds chirping, and the endless
wail of synthetic tones grows over its own container
and sounds more and more threatening with every passing
second. There's almost never any doubt that anything
released by Coleclough is going to be good, but not
since his work with Colin Potter on Low Ground has
his work felt this powerful. Lethe's contribution
may have something to do with this, but unfortunately
there are no details provided on the packaging in
regards to who contributed what and how. There are
two editions of this release available. One is a single
disc edition and the other is a two-disc edition limited
to 250 copies and available only through ICR Distribution.
There's little reason not to own this; the fevered
pitch this album reaches and it's beautiful, destructive
aftermath exceed any description that might be applied.
- Lucas Schleicher
Reviews
Ever
looming over a given soundscape, the prodigious and
at times profound atmospheres of Coleclough on this
collaborative release sometimes seem to exist in a
dimension separate from yet synchronistic with the
often intricate and skillfully rendered tactile sounds
of Lethe (Kiyoharu Kuwayama.) This is most apparent
when certain elements contributed by each artist sound
as if they were simply layered over the others regardless
of contrasting acoustic characteristics, thus momentarily
defeating possible intentions of rendering a naturally
unified soundscape. However, the work on this release
is still among the finest of either artistsf discography
thus far.
Dale Lloyd, Improvised Music from Japan 2005 (IMJ-306/7),
December 2005.
Typically with violinist Rina Kijima, Kuwayama Kiyoharu
(aka Lethe) seeks out vast abandoned warehouse spaces
in which he improvises around the natural reverb of
these spaces using cello, prepared guitar, and found
elements from those spaces. For his collaboration
with veteran British dronescapist Jonathan Coleclough,
Kiyoharu presents dense textures of metal being scraped
on the far side of that warehouse, as well as closely
observed sounds of miniscule clicks and pangs from
the same objects. Coleclough overlays this source
material with his signature blur of electric signals
that sublimely hover before expanding their intensity
through divebomb sweeps and timestretched phase patterns.
Both Kiyoharufs and Colecloughfs sounds progress
on parallel tracks up to a dramatic crescendo at which
Colecloughfs drone abruptly halts, revealing a frenzy
of activity from Kiyoharu dragging items across the
warehouse floor. As Kiyoharu quiets his actions, Coleclough
introduces deep sea sonar pings and a subtle wash
of aerated sound. Itfs an evocative, beautiful combination
in which both artists have plenty of opportunity to
showcase their talents.
Jim Haynes, The Wire, issue 255, May 2005.
Any doubt that the term edrone,f as applied to this
sort of music, is completely and ridiculously misleading
should be eliminated after listening to this recording.
While all sorts of pulsing tones are used and thrown
away on eLong Heat,f the most noticeable aspect
this collaboration is that it never sits still or
relies on constant droning sounds to achieve its rather
confusing effect. Kuwayama Kiyoharu, otherwise known
as Lethe, and Jonathan Coleclough construct a fairly
ominous set of sounds, one on top of the other, until
they produce the sound of music burning. Crackling,
sticks snapping, and slowly detuned winds flow through
a series of almost indefinable transitions; each new
sound ushers in a new palette and a fresh movement.
Sounding almost like a variation on a theme, the duo
slowly allows an intensity to build, never really
letting go and simply adding intriguing sounds as
they move along, almost as though they were eager
to drop the old ones as quickly as possible. At around
the 21 minute mark, the atmosphere begins to spiral
out of a control ever so slightly: the clanking of
metal, the sounds of birds chirping, and the endless
wail of synthetic tones grows over its own container
and sounds more and more threatening with every passing
second. Therefs almost never any doubt that anything
released by Coleclough is going to be good, but not
since his work with Colin Potter on eLow Groundf
has his work felt this powerful. Lethefs contribution
may have something to do with this, but unfortunately
there are no details provided on the packaging in
regards to who contributed what and how. There are
two editions of this release available. One is a single
disc edition and the other is a two-disc edition limited
to 250 copies and available only through ICR Distribution.
Therefs little reason not to own this; the fevered
pitch this album reaches and its beautiful, destructive
aftermath exceed any description that might be applied.
Lucas Schleicher, Brainwashed Brain, Vol 8 issue 16,
April 2005.
In the last decade or so the market has been flooded
with hundreds of insignificant and often very expensive
records documenting drones recorded in sound installations,
as an ever-increasing number of nonentities hide behind
assorted rumbles, monks, monkeys, birds, frogs, insects
and other magnificent voids. This trend | which Ifll
be fighting hopelessly until I transform myself into
a Tibetan bowl | distracts attention from the few
really meaningful artists who gave birth to the whole
genre many years ago, including Jonathan Coleclough,
heard here in the excellent company of Japanese soundscaper
Lethe. eLong Heatf starts with a view of a menacing
black sky painted with extreme low frequencies that
move slowly and alluringly into our perceptual field;
this is territory closer to Thomas KoNnerfs glacial
prayer than to the cascading metallic powerhouse of
previous Coleclough material. Spinning currents are
disturbed by short concrete noises, ranging from the
flick of imaginary switches to percussive interference
a` la Zfev, all of which undermine the discipline
of the mother drone. After about 30 minutes everything
seems to stop abruptly, but it's just a shift in intensity:
an almost scary muteness is punctuated by the distant
siren cry of what sounds like a bowed metal sculpture,
while the sparse crackling of circuitry continues,
almost unnoticeably. It's a very evocative atmosphere,
far removed from threadbare shamanism, unlevelled
terrains of isolated introspection working wonders
on our sense of expectation until silence itself returns
at the end to remind us of our next steps in life.
But therefs more: loyal followers who manage to get
a copy of the limited edition will also receive a
second CD - eLong Heat Pt 2f | which, as cerebral
massages go, is almost better than the first, as monstrous
cloudy masses move in from the background to permeate
the room in an enthralling timbral phenomenon whose
mightiness | think of a giant pipe organ and an approaching
bomber squadron | is once more questioned by scraping
and rustling, like ants at work in patient destruction.
The final distant cello-like melodic fragments are
just sublime. Don't miss it.
Massimo Ricci, Paris Transatlantic magazine, May 2005.
It would be interesting to know what is going on here.
Lethe is the Japanese Kuwayama Kiyoharu, who has released
a CD on Trente Oiseaux of his cello/drone music as
well as releases on his own label. Is it Lethe sending
sound material to Coleclough? Or is it the work of
Lethe producing this work with the use of Coleclough
soundmaterial? But is it important, all this guessing?
I am sure it is not important at all.
It has the majestic sounds that is the trademark of
Coleclough. These long drone sounds that slowly change
shape, change colour. But that's only one part of
the game. Coleclough adds another layer of heavily
reverbed sounds of falling objects. An additional
third layer is used for utter dry sounds - scratching
the surface. Three distinct layers of sounds that
over the course of each disc start to intermingle
with eachother, they slowly merge together, but it's
not that a blur arises, not at all. From these slowly
merging masses a new distinct and powerful drone arises
above the field which slowly moves on and follows
its own course. Once this course is gone, the material
falls apart like small particles, suddenly, without
warning.
This is a beautiful work of drone music. Majestic
stuff, moving slowly forward. Great stuff.
Frans de Waard, Vital Weekly 468, March 2005.