The first time Biosphere and Deathprod joined forces dates back to 1998. An encounter that seemingly had little room to develop, built around the shared intent of paying tribute to a monumental figure like Arne Nordheim from two entirely different perspectives: on one side, ambient music turned into sound art in its most substantial and immersive form (read, without hesitation: the exact opposite of the photographic formalism of Thomas Köner); on the other, post-jazz leaning toward dark-ambient. The result was “Nordheim Transformed”, a work that was neither praised nor blamed, a dutiful exercise carried out with competence but without taking any risks or offering any surprises. Seventeen years later, history repeats itself.
If Biosphere hadn't been heard from in a few years – the last proper release was “N-Plants” back in 2011, followed by various minor projects for theatre and film – the last Deathprod bulletin from Mr. Supersilent, Helge Sten, dates back even further, a full eleven years. These numbers inevitably weigh on “Stator”, a record that is essentially shared ground occupied separately by the two artists, who once again choose not to fully merge their forces. Again, no risks taken: this time, quite simply, Biosphere does Biosphere and Deathprod does Deathprod, retracing, with class but without any flashes of genius, by-now-familiar sonic blueprints.
On one side, then, there's Biosphere, who after reconciling aesthetics and perception by coining a series of genuine glossaries of contemporary atmospheric music, has recently often given in to the temptation of simply dipping back into that well. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, given that all the tracks he signs here rank among the “best” moments of the album. “Muses-C” opens under the best auspices, masterfully restaging the hypnotic torpor of “Dropsonde”; “Baud” plays with minimalism and never bores, even if it does feel somewhat unfinished; “Space Is Fizzy” could pass for an outtake from “Shenzhou”, yet it's not without a touch of refined class.
The long absence from electronic soundscapes, on the other hand, brings back a decidedly heavier Deathprod, whose long monologues into the void more than once tend to lack real substance. That's the case with “Shimmer/Flicker”, a long and lush hesitation built around a solitary drone, as well as with the immersive finale of “Optical”, a “classic” snowstorm of inflated high frequencies and field recordings. But even more symptomatic of this is “Polycromatic”, whose drilling, endlessly repeated hum into nothingness only makes sense of its title if read as an oxymoron. The aesthetic value is beyond question, but behind the form there seems to be a lack of genuine substance.
The one exception is “Disc”, which takes the easy route by taking refuge in the warmth of gentle harmonic breaths, effectively marking the only real point of contact between the two artists' soundscapes. The coexistence of the two, far from straightforward on paper, actually proves to be an asset for the record as a whole. The narrative structure deliberately plays on the contrast between Biosphere's fertile, living “refuges” and Deathprod's icy, desolate explorations into the void. A winning combination, all things considered, even if (for the second time) the impression remains that of an opportunity deliberately left unseized.
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10/04/2015
This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Matteo Meda, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.