According to Maurizio Bianchi, KRMN stands for Karbona Monooksido, which is “produced from the impartial de-oxidation of sonorous carbon-containing modular compounds.” He urges listeners that it is “not toxic and has a positive effect on the peripheral nervous system and symbolic heart,” unlike carbon monoxide (from which KRMN is derived). M.B. prescribes that listeners “pay attention to [KRMN’s] fatal antidote to the industrial poisoning in our dogmatic modernity.” This “de-oxidation” forms the core of M.B. & Francisco López and the basic source through which Bianchi and Francisco López generate their sides of the album.
What one can glean from Bianchi’s sentences seems at first minuscule to me, representing once again M.B.’s cryptic and evasive manner. The definitive iconoclast, Bianchi has unleashed perplexing noises for decades, all while quitting music more than a handful of times. Equally as esoteric, Francisco López’s field recordings seem to exist on a plane orthogonal to his contemporaries, churning out releases independent of praise or criticism. Thus, this meeting between the two is as bizarre as it is interesting.
While the superficial structures of each side are similar — long, noisy drones — the tracks would sound distinct to even the minimally invested listener. The two sides are imbued with the hallmarks of each musician, providing unique takes on the same primer.
López’s side exhibits greater attention to dynamics and preservation of source than does Bianchi’s. “KRMN-FL” gradually flickers between silence and an aching howl, commencing with an ethereal, harsh breeze that sounds closest to KRMN actual. Throughout “KRMN-FL’s” duration, López tempers the original vapors into a softer yet fuller sound, displaying adroit concrète skills.
Bianchi’s side, “KRMN-MB,” on the other hand, combusts with a lo-fidelity reminiscent of his formative dark ambience. Little resembles “KRMN-FL”; instead, Bianchi deconstructs KRMN into repeating movements, miring in obfuscation. While the piece does indeed have some magnetic qualities, at almost 45 minutes in length, “KRMN-MB” has a tendency to stagnate. However ill-equipped for deep listening “KRMN-MB” may be, it does serve as strangely enthralling ambience. When each loop is disconnected from its durations and placed in relation to its predecessor/successor — however far away those may be — one realizes how discrete and varied “KRMN-MB” actually is.
That is the conundrum of “KRMN-MB,” and to a lesser extent “KRMN-FL.” They both defy dissection yet invite unorthodox perspectives. As with KRMN, one should not prostate too long on its meaning, but approach KRMN as if it isn’t the deadly carbon monoxide and instead a positive force. Maybe M.B. & Francisco López is indeed an antidote for dogmatic listening?
More about: Maurizio Bianchi & Francisco López
