Imagine yourself on a deserted island beach, with maybe a few palm trees to keep you company. You are lying down, listening to the gentle ebb and flow of the waves and the chirping of seagulls. You are so relaxed that you close your eyes and begin drifting away. Or are you just bored? What if I made the electronic equivalent to the sounds of this setting? Still falling asleep? You bet.
Nacht Plank, aka Lee Norris, is probably the most boring thing to happen to ambient music since Pure Moods. Every composition on Septs Vents is either a exploration of ambient electronics or a imitation of nature through electronics. From the lofty post-Basinski fading loops of "Croan" to the post-Squarepusher jumpy blip hell of "Plouescat," his method is so textbook that the listener will think that he planted weights under their eyelids. He takes a short sonic texture of modulating tones and loops it for a really long time, periodically adding robot farts and other blips to the mix. Each tone is overly long and meanders on and on with absolutely no change to the texture.
There is at least some beauty to be found in the bore. "Carhaix Nonant" takes a barrage of organ notes, holds them for a few beats and sprinkles crystal music box notes overtop. "Rijwoude" loops a guitar line that sounds like Loren MazzaCane Connors at his most contemplative. Although the songs clock in at three and four minutes, respectively, both overstay their welcome by at least half of the song length. In the end, Septs Vents proves once again that the only thing more boring than a generic natural landscape is the guy sitting in front of a laptop trying to recreate the sound of that generic natural landscape.
1. Croan
2. Vire
3. Troarn
4. Film
5. Bonnbosq
6. Rijhwoude
7. Glisen
8. Carhaix Nonant
9. Mehk
10. Brasparts
11. Plouescat
More about: Nacht Plank
