vanishing twin - archives

AT RADIO NOW


Each player brings a wide experience of musical collaboration and improvisation to the table, with listening back and editing studio sessions an integral part of the creative process. Concepts of authorship and ownership are dissolved in Vanishing Twin's music, with members swapping instruments and losing themselves in the collaborative moment and the forest of sound created. The archives of the album title are documents of Vanishing Twin's collective intelligence becoming sentient.

By plugging the listener into this collective patchbay, Archives gives the closest encounter with Vanishing Twin thus far. That directness is reflected in Lucas‘s songs and vocals. Close—miked recording and multiple overdubs bring a sense of intimacy and human presence, with the songs' allusions to motherhood and close—quarters living accentuating the feeling of connection.

The electronic oscillations of opening track “Life By The Hand” introduce an album with a sound spectrum far beyond the average music trio. The band brought noise tables to the party crammed with samplers, effects pedals, Coopers and toys. The corners of Mukai (Zongamin) and Magaletti‘s (Holy Tongue, Tomaga, Moin) London boat and Lucas‘s home studios were filled with cellos, zithers, kalimbas, 3D—printed flutes and homemade instruments ready to picked up and played.

Title track “Archives” is a strange hybrid of live playing colliding with electronic sound and cut—up vocal collage, with Mellotron—style string samples twisting their way backwards against the beat, and Lucas narrating a dream—like sequence with shades of a nature documentary and visions of “underground creatures in watery cathedrals of liquid stone”. The band‘s three members are not locked together via MIDI or click tracks, which creates shifting layers and a sense of unstable rhythmic equilibrium on tracks like “Bring Me The Axe”. The song‘s lyrical imagery of wayward children, underground lairs and ancient weaponry suggests a “mish—mash of anti—fairy tales”.

The album‘s sleeve, by artist and Vanishing Twin live member Arthur Sajas, presents an alternative type of archive — song titles from the album are written on an artful miscellany of pieces of paper, surrounded by a scree of annotations and amendments.

The chaotic energy of Archives pushes Vanishing Twin in unfamiliar shapes and directions. Out of their comfort zones, the trio find new moments of enlightenment and delight. Deep in the mix, you might hear Magaletti picking up the bass, Mukai unexpectedly sitting in on drums, or Lucas slipping chameleon—like between the gaps. As Magaletti sees it, “music is just an energy, it doesn't belong to anyone. No one channels it. It is bigger than the sum of its parts.”

Archives refines Vanishing Twin‘s model of collective music making, where egos are dispelled in playful games of mix and match, and creativity flows between the three multi—instrumentalists. The three operate between and outside conventional categories of genre, alongside fellow travellers stretching the idea of the contemporary music ensemble such as Tara Clerkin Trio and Still House Plants. A decade into their existence, Vanishing Twin are mercurial like never before.