Hard to comment on an album which, by consensus, contains so little sound that present living conditions (mostly in terms of focus and attention more than ability to hear the damn thing) prevent me from appreciating, but I appreciate Ed Howard’s review. There is talk of ways of hearing, ways of perceiving, environmental sound recordings, but it’s hard, when you’re dealing with an intentional five minutes of trombone and forty seconds of guitar, to see it as anything other than self-abnegation. The reasons remain unclear.
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