Tape Loop Orchestra Novedades

Manchester’s multifarious sound organiser Andrew Hargreaves (Tape Loop Orchestra, The Boats, Beppu) channels key touchstones of Glenn Branca’s microtonal minimalism, the paranormal, and DIY amateur broadcasting with some of his most enigmatic, intuitive recordings to date.

‘Drones In The Air’ finds Hargreaves deep in a new phase of vibrational investigation where the sentimentality of prior eras gives way to more abstract conceptual processes. Utilising a bunch of oscillators and the Lyra-8, an “organismic analog synthesiser”, plus pedals, Hargreaves works within just intonation tuning systems - or more precisely “intuitive intonation” - to just-about harness a microtonal flux of clashing, beating frequencies, but the project is more about ceding a certain amount of freedom to the machines and allowing aural alchemy to occur, prompting a spectrum of harmonic colours and rich timbral overtones distinguished from previous tape loop-based works.

Comparative to “Glenn Branca’s micro-tonal workouts if he had worked with oscillators instead of guitars”, the result also variously evoke mysteries of The Conet Project, the oceanic feel of Éliane Radigue compositions, and early ambient works by Terre Thaemlitz in their sound sensitivity and scope. In ‘The Sun is Afraid’ he mesmerises with glistening microtones that develop a coarser traction, interrupted by shortwave radio comms and resolving into phantasmic noise gauze that speaks to his long-standing fascinations with entropic decay and the sounds between sounds. ‘Your Hands Are Shaking’ follows with a stealthier approach to coaxing a hallucinatory drone mass inflated by ether voices and thickening up into a sinister gloam redolent of NWW’s ’Soliloquy for Lilith’.

Andrew Hargreaves’ Tape Loop Orchestra makes his first mark of the year with a post-rock deep dive that continues the themes of his ‘Liminal Live’ (2020) tape.

’Temporal In-Between’ is presented as a conceptual soundtrack to a metaphysical road trip, a journey through infinitely open space imbued with phantomatic energies”. Hand-in-hand with the cover art by collaborator Keith Ashcroft, the two-part record evokes its subject with a lesser- heard (as in, have we heard him do this before?) use of electric guitar and a patented grasp of liminal, hypnagogic atmosphere to summon sustained arcs of phased chords and an almost wind- played motorik momentum that makes it feel like gliding over unlit moors at night.

The spirits of Eno & Fripp colour proceedings as TLO’s elliptical tape loop system accretes and unfurls its information in slow motion from the shimmering keys and guitar strokes of ‘Upsurge’, and its gorgeous transition to heart-in-mouth sensations, and the soothing plangency of ’Situated Presence’, where signature choral motifs are found occluded by the atmosphere, parting thru the clouds occasionally, but more often pushed to the background, as though heard from a distance like phosphorescent city lights spied from its meridian. More simply; dream food for fans of Romance, The Caretaker, Eno.