Soave Nu Disco | Disco Edits | Cosmic 5 Items

Unfortunately the jackets are a bit damaged.

'When No Pussyfooting was released in 1973 by two great pioneers like Eno and Fripp, that first whisper of their artistic association surprised many critics and fans. Yet, that kind of minimalist ambient sonority carried out by the two appeared in the ear like something absolutely new and innovative. Although nowadays we might be more accustomed to creative operations of this type, we are still fascinated, while listening, by the still possible achievement of relevant moments of musical epiphany, however distant we might be from that first eminent combination between keyboards and guitar which concerned electronic experimentation. Something similar occurred in this new collaboration between Riccardo Sinigaglia and Maurizio Abate; two generations in comparison, whose research developments unfold in the handful of different conceptions and experiences. Their music does not own a pre-defined structure; it receives its ultimate reason from the progressive and continuous metamorphosis of sound. It’s all the result of spontaneous sessions, during which a predisposition towards an active trance procedure, sustained by complementary flashes of lucidity, prevails. The dominant atmosphere is entirely oneiric, perpetually doubtful, still not linked to the passive remote unconscious: it rather reminds of lucid dreams, of phosphenes, of eidetic visualizations that belong to Tibetan tradition.

Edo” is a cosmic ambient experimental masterpiece conceived in 1977 by Masashi Komatsubara and developed alongside with Hideki Matsutake (a.k.a. Logic System and reductively defined by many as the "fourth member of the Yellow Magic Orchestra"). As a true sound scientist, he pours all his efforts into this record, and aimed at the widest possible use of an electronic instrument that was at the forefront at that time — the Moog IIIc. He extends his research by trying to break down the last wall between modernity and the past: the union and eurythmy between artificial sounds and traditional sounds. All this through a perfect three-way collaboration together with the shamisen musician Konae Imato, and the creation of a unique and extraordinary charming work dedicated to the double soul of the capital of Japan: ancient Edo, now the current day city of Tokyo.

Futuro Antico, the mesmerizing collaboration of Riccardo Sinigaglia with Walter Maioli and Gabin Dabirè evoked in its name the uncanniness of simultaneously witnessing past and future. Ambient Music, Riccardo Sinigaglia’s first solo work –recorded in Dec. 1984 and originally out on cassette from ADN Tapes in 1985— ultimately delivers on that idea, embodying different irreconcilable time frames not just in name.
From our vantage point, the sounds of the two performances --“Watertube” and “Ringspiel”-- appear as though they arrive to us from a past which we have great difficulty in recognizing and imagining ourselves coming from while simultaneously working as a projection of a future that is both our contemporaneity yet also surpasses it. It’s this ability that Riccardo Sinigaglia’s work has of being both rooted in its context while instantaneously capable of transcending our own that makes him one of the key figures of that explosion of beauty and creativity that defines the peculiar iteration of radical minimalism that characterized the experimental and avant-garde music scene in Italy, particularly the Milanese one with its rich countercultural scenes crossing over into the long reverberating academic legacy of the Studio di Fonologia Musicale RAI di Milano during a hyperactive decade starting in the late 1970s. An aggressively conquered freedom which resulted in works of an incredible gracefulness aimed towards a future at a moment when both grace and the future had seemingly begun their slow obliteration under the blows of powerful destructive forces.
“Watertube” starts as a synth and magnetic-tape based ambient soundscape that slowly adds what appears to be a prepared piano which eventually competes for audibility with a phrase that evokes the titular watertube, treated, looped and stacked as it phase-shifts producing a busy polyrhythm that asynchronously gurgles and bubbles, approaching but never breaking into chaos. It’s some strange version of Eno’s oblique discreetness ostensibly being overwhelmed by the perversity of a Stevereichian shape-shifting pattern but the moment the former is about to be overwhelmed the composition begins a slow recession back towards the system it originated from.
“Ringspiel” is a more playful yet warped affair, a complex ecology rather than a simple economy of sounds. Opening with a whimsical melody seemingly played on a prepared toy piano this gives way to a tape loop punctuated throughout the rest of the piece by individual sounds whose origins remain uncertain. These produce scattered melodies that underscore an electronic based minimalism with a synthetic heart that nonetheless showcases a pulsating, wet, fibrous core that beats with organic life. It ends not in the opening whimsy but in fragmenting percussive shards of sounds. While it might superficially appear deceitfully familiar and comforting and evoke recognizable pleasures this is neither your father’s ambient nor your mom’s minimalism. And it sure as hell ain’t your older brother’s lame substanceless new age noodling. There’s a dark heart to Sinigaglia’s record – listened to today we are conscious that the future “Watertube” and “Ringspiel” pointed towards never arrived and yet we are aware of nonetheless inhabiting it. That is ultimately the tragedy and the thrill of these compositions. We are told that the future’s been annulled due to a degenerative process that began precisely around the time in which this music was first recorded. And yet. As time folded in on itself and we were made to inhabit the futureless predicament of an eternal present these recordings act as relics from the last possible instance where a future could still stand to be imagined. A little sliver of opportunity. Look into it. It just might give you a peek into tomorrow. The time is out of joint.

When No Pussyfooting was released in 1973 by two great pioneers like Eno and Fripp, that first whisper of their artistic association surprised many critics and fans. Yet, that kind of minimalist ambient sonority carried out by the two appeared in the ear like something absolutely new and innovative. Although nowadays we might be more accustomed to creative operations of this type, we are still fascinated, while listening, by the still possible achievement of relevant moments of musical epiphany, however distant we might be from that first eminent combination between keyboards and guitar which concerned electronic experimentation. Something similar occurred in this new collaboration between Riccardo Sinigaglia and Maurizio Abate; two generations in comparison, whose research developments unfold in the handful of different conceptions and experiences. Their music does not own a pre-defined structure; it receives its ultimate reason from the progressive and continuous metamorphosis of sound. It’s all the result of spontaneous sessions, during which a predisposition towards an active trance procedure, sustained by complementary flashes of lucidity, prevails. The dominant atmosphere is entirely oneiric, perpetually doubtful, still not linked to the passive remote unconscious: it rather reminds of lucid dreams, of phosphenes, of eidetic visualizations that belong to Tibetan tradition.

The alchemist Bebo Baldan, accompanied by Steve James on violin and sarod (as well as on instruments of various geographical extractions) mixes, in a personal way, sounds from a bevy of different cultures – from Mediterranean and Indian, to South American – with synths, samples, and loops. The result is a boundless music that carries us, riding soft waves and bobbing between Balearic ambient, jazz and electronic, on islands that have been quietly, yet carefully cultivated; peaceful, fascinating, and reflective – places where time appears to dissolve. Vapor frames 86/91 was originally released for Venetian Divergo – a non-profit label, which after the Baldan album, also released "The Wind Collector" by Gigi Masin and Alessandro Monti a few months later.
This reissue includes two added bonus tracks from the same sessions, both at the end of each side.
The result is a stunning auditory atmosphere that relaxes the spirit in the same vein as a reiki treatment.