Unless I’m missing out on even more than I thought, listening with the tips of my fingers is Carl Lindh’s first solo full-length. The Malmö-based sound artist has released a small handful of material, mostly as splits with various Swedish noise acts (including a C30 that pairs a Pär Thörn collaboration on the A side with a Heinz Hopf ripper on the B), but this handsome CD on Tokyo small-batch label zappak feels definitive. Two lengthy live tracks feature Lindh’s tabletop potpourri of devices and circuits, which he nimbly controls with simple touches and taps. The infamous “cracked everyday electronics” of legendary Swiss duo Voice Crack are a clear influence, not just on the approach but also on the music itself, which hums and buzzes with both mechanical dispassion and natural fluidity. Neither “sound becomes word becomes sound” nor “a certain lack of consistency” mine soundscapes as obtuse or oblique as Möslang and Guhl’s uneasy improvisations, though; there’s something strangely accessible about the sound Lindh is experimenting with here, something that’s especially apparent when the vocal elements crop up. I have no idea if they’re his contributions in the moment or preloaded samples being triggered just like the rest of the electromagnetic haze—I lean toward the former because of how unstructured yet deliberate they feel. His description of another recording applies here as well: “There are no big gestures in this performance. Instead I let the sounds perform. I let them fill the room and resonate with it. I listen and I follow. Loud continuous sounds create a sensation of comfort within me. It makes my mind empty and my body calm.”
Noise Not Music 