Aside from the symbolic, what does timbre look like on a conceptual level? The video for Kepla’s “Ordinant 6” goes some way to posing this — the chromatic abnormality of leaves corresponding to musically chromatic modifications of norms, and sporadic glimmers of color appearing as separate domains forming a conceptual space. Textural waves, planetary rock formations, drifting particles, and otherworldly flickers of light seen through leafy breaks are all very alien. Of course, when is this music ever not called “alien”? It’s more non-human, grounded in an ontology that places the human on a level field alongside the networked objects it belongs with. Like being in a box in the middle of summer watching JCBs dig up concrete around you, you’re part of the coalescence.
When visiting sounds away from concrete realities, specific objects, or actual instances, connections, associations, and involvements may transform. Apparently, there’s contest between the intuitive recognition of sonic production and the actual sonic phenomena. As humans, we always impose narratives on sound based on what we perceive as “real.” Kepla’s EP has the Liverpool artist loosening this tendency, its five tracks inviting participation in an introspective experience. “Veata’s Call” is a highlight, a halituous and volatile track, and a model of Kepla’s concern for the “unreal.”
Domains of color are plenty and, as a circumstance, the mix of aggregates — as sand and gravel — has a muddying effect. Indeed, the overtone of Kepla’s EP is murky and vague, but beneath are bright undertones offering promise. After all, sediment and oil are just degraded life, and Kepla’s EP is a cloudy nebula of fine earthly matter. Without the usual stratification of clearly differentiated components, its amorphous structure offers its own layers. The listener’s endeavor to find meaning inverts to an introverted take on the self. Drowning in an abundance of vapor, Kepla’s EP calls you to ask: where do I belong in this mess?
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