Album: Arctic Interference
Artist: RNGMNN
Label: Winter-Light
Catalogue no: N/A
Tracklist:
1. Arctic
Interference
2. The
Cold Ones
3. Dust
on Snow
4. Waves
of Frost
5. Perceptual
Alternation
6. Frozen
Magma
7. Icicle
Ridge Trail
8. Numb
It’s a cold wet Saturday
here in the Midlands of the UK, and RNGMNN’s latest release from Mark O’Shea’s
Winter-Light label perfectly matches the general cold dampness of the day.
RNGMNN is one of those outfits that I see regularly mentioned online but have
never actually listened to before (there’s just so much out there I need to get my ears around) so I grabbed this
opportunity to acquaint myself with their output. Let’s just say that, whenever
I find the time, I shall be exploring their previous efforts.
My job here though is to
assess what this latest opus has to
offer and, judging from the opening (and title) track ‘Arctic Interference’, I
reckon I may be in for a treat. It opens with lush organ-based drones, swelling
and receding, ebbing and flowing, a beat emerging from somewhere indefinable in
the mix, the drones eventually becoming more orchestral and ethereal as time
goes on. Cold currents, whether of water or air, swirl gently, caressing rather
than buffeting, carrying us on a blissful, soothing ride. ‘The Cold Ones’
envelops with a completely different vibe, one that wraps us in chill blankets,
freezing us to our cores: we’re treading warily through a sharp-edged
landscape, a place of steel-bladed icicles and keenly-honed ice-covered rock.
We are aware that perhaps we’re not the only ones here: fog obscures our vision
but we can just discern shapes moving within it, but whether they’re real and
substantial or merely phantasmagorical illusions is hard to decide. A thrill of
danger and alarm shivers palpably through that fog, infecting not just our
senses but our physical bodies too, sending our nerves to the edge of
overdrive.
That chill vibe continues
on track three, ‘Dust on Snow’, as cold, freezing arctic winds presage some
kind of movement, perhaps ice breaking up to make our passage even more
doubtful and dangerous. However, it feels as if it’s not just a natural
phenomenon that’s the main cause of the shifting ice-fields: there’s something
else abroad here, a something possessing a baleful and antagonistic
intelligence, a consciousness that’s inimical to human life. Perhaps it doesn’t
want the stain of our passing to leave any marks here, and ultimately it wishes
us to be erased from this land’s memory.
With ‘Waves of Frost’
we’ve now reached the halfway point of our journey through these frozen lands,
and somehow we’ve escaped the malign clutches of whatever was stalking us in
the previous piece, but it’s also obvious that we’re not out of danger yet. A
shrill intensity is apparent through this track, a signal that our further
progress is being watched. We have to step lightly here, as well as be mindful
of how we make our way through these environs – this land is bigger than we
are, and has existed for longer, so our respect of its boundaries and ways is
paramount. Perhaps we are neither friend nor foe, but even so if we die or
disappear the land and its spirits wouldn’t be in the least concerned.
‘Perceptual Alternation’ somehow feels warmer, but only by the smallest of
degrees: those cold winds still blow, while there’s a steady solo beat giving
the impression of yet another ‘something’ stalking us. The cold here isn’t just
physical – it’s metaphysical as well, speaking of vast open spaces under skies
of turbulent clouds, shaded in ever-roiling blacks and greys. In spite of the
huge expanse that we find ourselves lost in, even on a clear day, we could
never be sure of what lurks out there, carefully and stealthily hiding its
presence and just waiting to ambush the unwary. Awareness of surroundings is
paramount to survival out in this isolation. ‘Frozen Magma’ – a contradiction
surely, as solid rock is itself frozen magma, but in this case could it also
mean ice-covered stone? Perhaps the shapes that that magma solidified into, now
layered with a white blanket, could be suggestive of ghostly presences, the
frozen memories of those who had also been caught out here and gave their
warmth away.
‘Icicle Ridge Trail’ is
next up, perhaps a signpost to our escape from this be-whited place. Up here,
above the low-lying clouds, one can see the choppy sea of mist and fog churning
and careening hither and thither below us, dashing themselves against the peaks
and ridges peeping up above them. Our path is clear, but it still possesses its
own dangers, and we must exercise caution. One false step means tragedy and
misfortune, and an icy demise. Finally, we get to safety, but by the time we
have all our senses, our bodies, and our emotions have become ‘Numb’ to all.
This one soars, travelling somewhere between the darkness and the light, into
that liminal zone where it is neither one thing nor the other. It is the end of
ordeal, yes, but where does it lead? Perhaps we are just glad that we have
survived, and are here to tell the tale, as there will be time enough to
embrace what follows.
A darkly beatific album,
veering from the upper reaches of the atmosphere and then plunging into the
darkest depths, eventually gliding back up to those soaring heights. It is
bright and deeply dark, scintillating and shivery. It will both chill you to
the bone, and elevate you to a place above the clouds, and it is all done with
subtlety and pace. The moods it expounds seep into you, and you are left to
absorb them without effort until you find yourself fully immersed. As I averred
in the first paragraph, I shall definitely be searching out more material from
this project, if this outing is anything to go by.
Simply beautiful.
Available from October 31st
from the Winter-Light Bandcamp page, but it can be pre-ordered now:
Psymon Marshall 2019.
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