Regardless of whether you’re moving snippets of sound from one corner of your screen to the other or playing in a band, in the moment of making music, you’re always alone. “In Residence” by Yann Novak is not one of those slightly pathetic accounts of solitary life in empty, sterile and indistinguishable hotels rooms, but a psychologically inspired approach of trying to recreate the emotional state during these extended stretches of creative work in a live environment.

Endeavours like this one appear to have a built-in limit as to what kind of audience they can reach. What is the average listener (and non-musician) to get out of this kind of analysis, after all? And yet, Novak has countered this inherent danger by translating a personal sensation into a more universally recognisable feeling.

All source material has purposefully undergone several stages of manipulations, becoming irrecognisable in the process. Which means that even if these sounds can sometimes take on the familar hovering of chopper wings or the delicate chirping of cicadas, they are always the result of a detour – nothing is as it seems any more and certainty is a rare good.

Another striking feature is the immitation of isolation by means of an acoustic low band bolt. The bass region of these three lengthy dark drone works is hauntingly claustrophobic, highly physical to the extent of attaining a visceral quality. In the final track, Novak even leaves a cold and monotonous bass drum pounding for a full quarter of an hour as part of the piece’s texture rather than a rhythmic foundation, pressurising the brain and sealing off the outside world completely.

What this means is that the album may take the implications of artistic creation as its starting point, but arrives at a more general depiction of depression and reclusion, which most people will be able to relate to. Most of these dense soundscapes, with just two to three layers of atmospheres and insectoid sound-organisms are therefore probably meant to be perceived as zones rather than listened to as compositions. If you feel slightly akward afterwards, but can’t remember a single passage, then that is part of the intention.

The press release describes “In Residence” as “a lonely sound world with distant sounds passing by, while the entire piece quivers with anticipation.” I do not agree with that. It is exactly the fact that this music does not anticipate, expect or want anything at all, which makes it succeed in its aim. Or maybe these differences in perception have to do with the fact that, in the end, listening – like making music – is a personal process, which we all must go through alone.

By Tobias Fischer

Homepage: Yann Novak
Homepage: Dragon’s Eye Recordings