The third tape to hit the library shelves is an album called Matter by Nate Scheible.
Scheible is a constantly working musician in Washington, D.C. and an ever-incredible drummer whose touch is paired with many others, most recently in free jazz/noise formations with heavy about-town players.
Matter is not a drum record though, far from it. This is compositional tape over-flow: splicing, electronics edit/synchronizing off-land bright murk and white light cassette music. Faded white and gray cloud music. Early morning eyes-still-closed music.
Picture the place when your body sits stillest.
Remember cloud-watch, looking, deeply, like when you were a child on the ground staring up at the sunny infinite, naming shapes, putting images to several overlapping, watching them fly across the sky out of peripheral view, to have another eclipse with a differing appearance of emitted highlight.
Or early dawn, outside and catching that pre-day magic.
Personalized effort-ragas set to the pulse of the oncoming hours, before the hustle and the people and the chores erase the calm. To sit still in that misted time-frame, gather thought by the water, everything clearer than before, a slight glass-like crack in the universe’s armour.
Thought like blood pulse. Veins like hunt-gather.
Air like fog. Exhale like leader.
An open private press singularity, ageless, individualized music-takes free from the closing-in big-picture of studio and multi-tracking. Daydream sketches alone in their form-shaping, voiceless memos for later use, pulling life from the mechanical and letting improvisation level it.
Dusty and crackling knobs turn hiss on evelope-like sweeping.
Horn or drum or keys swept up and under the rolling mass.
Organized, downhill, then buoyant, then invisible. Walking through walls.
Any live instrument is cut and trimmed and removed, decaying into skeletal-powder, strained through the simplifier.
Seeds and slow growth showing the sun’s skill in all-time-not-measured, chopped back and shaped into meticulousness-denied. A free lapse of time, seconds turning into wandering cycles catching wind and collecting each other.
Melody like breaths. Passage like water.
Air like fog. Inhale like leader.
This is a great headphone listen and a great open room fill-it-up listen.
If I could match the patience and fluidity in my normal-day-life, I’d feel like I’ve gripped the secret.
Want to thank Nate for being a breeze to work with and for letting me house this terrific album. I can’t stop listening to this masterpiece. We’ll all hear much more from him, no doubts about that.
Tape was a small run of 27 copies dubbed at home, half in the mail as I type and half for Nate. Maybe they’ll land near you.
Digital is live and free and expert sounding.
Thanks for listening and reading.