
Squaremeter
War of Sound
I had never been overly
enamoured with the Squaremeter sound: a paint-by-numbers approach to clicks ‘n’
cuts that never really displayed the same energy or creativity as Panacea (the
main project of Squaremeter, aka Mathis Mootz) or other genre artists such as
Ryoji Ikeda and Alva Noto. However, my
opinion greatly changed at 2002’s Maschinenfest, where they (for Squaremeter
live are a duo) delivered an awe-inspiring performance, combining elements of glitch,
drone, dark ambient and breakbeat that set them apart as something truly
unique.
It is in this thundering,
apocalyptic mode that we find War of Sound, the sixth Squaremeter album –
his third for Ant-Zen. Taking several
vocal samples from an audio book of Tolkien’s The Silmarillion, the
album revolves around its metaphysical concept of music as a both a symbol of
the soul and a weapon, with dark, discordant noises being the most powerful of
all. It opens, however, in near-silence
with the trademark Squaremeter clicks, slowly introducing monolithic rumbles
until it erupts in a cataclysmic detonation of strings, bass and beats, all
guided along by the omnipresent, doom-laden narration…and so begins the War
of Sound.
Although the album is divided
into seven tracks, it plays more like one, long, expansive piece with recurrent
musical themes and familiar rhythms cropping up on occasion. This lends itself well to the grandiose tone
of the compositions, which perfectly reflect the epic, bombastic prose of
Tolkien’s work. Indeed, each track is
named after a phrase from the narration and provides a fitting soundtrack
(although I am loathe to use that word) to that section of the tale,
concretising both the angelic voices and the increasingly satanic one that
slowly gain dominion over all (for The Silmarillion is partly based on Paradise
Lost and the myths of pre-creation).
This album also sees the debut,
as far as I am aware, of vocals by Mootz (in any of his incarnations: Panacea,
Rich Kid, Kate Mosh, etc.). I always
thought it strange that a classically trained singer would give up their main
instrument completely, even when exploring other avenues of music. Here, though, his voice enriches several of
the tracks with heart wrenching ethnic-tinged wailing, something that I’d like
to hear more of as he does have a superb voice.
Existing fans of Squaremeter’s
work (and those who have not experienced them live) may be slightly shocked at
the sharp change of direction on this album; nevertheless, I feel the change
has been for the best, bringing some much-needed life and innovation into an
increasingly tiresome act. This is
certainly his finest work to date, possibly even eclipsing his work as Panacea
as well. A highly recommended and highly
addictive release.
Gavin Lees
03.03.2k3