I picked up a copy of the self-titled album by A Winged Victory For The Sullen (featuring Adam Willtzie of Stars Of The Lid) and have it spinning on my turntable right now. I’ve got my pretty little Marantz 2215-B (solid state!) receiver cranked as high as it will go, and the droning guitars and piano reverb is combining to make my bedroom walls shake. Hell, my laptop’s monitor is ever-so-softly vibrating. I figure if I’m going to listen to something delicate and ambient I might as well blast it as loud as I can. It’s not like anyone else is home to stop me.
As any music nerd can attest to, everything sounds better when the volume is cranked. But sometimes it’s just more fun to play records loud that aren’t intended to be heard at extreme volumes. Of course when I listen to White Hills or Boris or Harvey Milk the idea is to get as close to blowing out my speakers as possible. Because I’m cheap and I can’t afford new ones. If I was rich I’d be willing to break my stereo equipment for fun. How much could a nice pair of Klipsch Fortes cost these days? $500 a pair? More? Whatever. When I’m rich I’ll just buy ’em all and render ’em useless with heavy rock records played at ungodly volumes.
What’s fun is when you don’t expect to be shaken — like this A Winged Victory For The Sullen album — by typically subtle low-end frequencies at ear-shattering volumes. It’s laughable. It’s a unique listening experience, and I’m all for it. Blast it. Let the neighbors try to figure out what the hell I’m doing over here. At least when I’m rocking out to Earthless or Sabbath it’s understandable. But when that lone Douglas Quin recording of seal calls starts the foundation a-tremblin’, that’s a special kind of what-the-fuck moment I truly enjoy!?
Here are the last five totally uncalled for records I’ve played at max volume:
Miles Davis – Sketches Of Spain: I grabbed a six-eye mono original promo copy of this last week and immediately came home from work to blast it. Maybe 5-10% of my record collection is jazz, so I think my roommates were as startled by the screaming horns as I was. Ha! Just the thought of Sketches Of Spain being described as having “screaming horns” is a joke. Hell, the centerpiece of the album is a reworked classical composition. AllMusic describes the moods of this record as “elegant, refined, sensual, sophisticated” and the themes as “the great outdoors, introspection, late night”. Not exactly sonic earthquake stuff. Which makes it all the more silly when taken to maximum loudness.
Bass Communion – Loss: Steven Wilson (aka Bass Communion) describes this record as relating to the parapsychological phenomenon of EVP (electronic voice phenomena), where voices from beyond the grave attempt to communication with the living through mediated sound. This record was made by combining reverberated piano, old 78 RPM albums, and sparse other sounds. It’s all drones and low-end piano, which makes for earth-rattling good times when blasted at top volume. Can you hear the ghosts even when your stereo is turned as high as it can go? Probably not, but it’s worth a shot and the ensuing noise complaint your neighbor will phone into the local police.
Pan American – Pan American: Ex-Labradford member Mark Nelson’s solo project. I found this in a cheap bin here in LA for $2.99 a few years ago and excitedly hurried home to blast it. If you can imagine it, this record is more ambient than Labradford. The guitars are barely-there, and there’s not much in the way of activity within the grooves. It’s more like an enveloping warmth that is birthed, develops ever-so-subtly, and then disappears into nothingness. It’s calming, it’s lulling, and it’s pacifying nature is entirely lost when your speakers are buzzing from all the bottom-end tones struggling to pass cleanly through.
Gareth Hardwick & Machinefabriek – Gareth Hardwick & Machinefabriek: I first came to learn of Gareth via the Electrical Audio forum. He mentioned his first release, an ambient record called Three Degrees Of Spearation that was recorded in his home. My ears didn’t perk up until he mentioned his split LP with Machinefabriek in 2007. Released on Low-Point (that should give you some idea of their raison d’ĂȘtre). Hardwick plays a heavily-affected lap steel guitar, which shimmers and shines for fifteen delicate minutes. There is a definite peak, a flurry of sound which is the highlight of the composition and also the most fun moment of max-volume listening. The Machinefabriek side is fairly typical of his oeuvre: hiss, static, disintegration, feedback. Turn it up to 11 and what do you get? Another visit from the cops for excessive noise. Too bad, you’d think the LAPD would be hip to earthquake preparedness exercises.
Gareth Hardwick – Lost In The Memory [MP3 sample]
Machinefabriek – Bathyale (Parts 2 & 3) [MP3 sample]
