Noise has a mutant nature and harbors poetic correspondences; it is polysemy that demands its translation from the listener. Concepts only make sense through their opposites; thus, noise means everything and means nothing.
Miguel A. García (M.A.G., aka xedh), a practitioner of the alchemy of noise for twenty-five years, offers us on this occasion a pantheistic theme: closer than ever to nature, its rhythms and cycles. A communion with the vital processes. M.A.G.'s sonorous arts have never been as telluric as on this occasion.
Starting from the field recordings captured by the also sound artist Juan Carlos Blancas (aka Coeval), the electroacoustic manipulations of M.A.G. have found a host where they can settle, grow and develop autonomously, adjusting to their own cycles. The theme opens the doors to an ecosystem of sounds in wild development; an alternative world to ours, as distant as it is close.
Rather, in a sinister equidistance: like those portraits of loved ones that due to slight changes become so disturbing. Here we are shown a strange world in a fleeting photograph, an instant of barely two days in a limited location. A fragment that suggests to us the enormity of that sonorous world that throbs full of lives alien to ours. The abrupt end of the theme closes the doors of this world that continues to sound, in constant change, immutable to our fleeting presence.
In spite of the musical turn that in appearance supposes this theme, in an attentive listening, it continues beating that evolution and organization of the sonorous masses so idiosyncratic of the Basque author. In this case, as if Walt Whitman were praising in his verses the hidden worlds imagined (or not) by Arthur Manchen or Lord Dunsany. There is a coupling between Nature and Machine: it is not known whether electronics becomes nature or it is nature that becomes electronics.
