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a r t i s t : Keith Berry
t i t l e : The Ear That Was Sold To A Fish
d a t e : 2005
l a b e l : Crouton No. 28
g e n r e : Avantgarde
r l s. d a t e : Jan/2006
t r a c k s : 09
b i t r a t e : VBRkbps
s i z e : 52,8 MB
_______________________________________________________________________
London composer Keith Berry's The Ear That Was Sold To A Fish
is a complex, albeit soothing piece, stretching over nine
tracks. The movement of the piece is akin to closing one's eyes
while floating gently down a nighttime river. But ironically,
this slow pace demands quick attention, as the sound all around
you passes you by. Fortunately, unlike a river experience, one
gets the opportunity to discover additional nuances, that in
themselves each open new worlds with repeated listening.
Crouton is pleased to present this mind encompassing new work
from one of the brightest electronic composers in the UK today.
His previous work has been released on such labels as trente
oiseaux, Authorized Version, and Twenty Hertz. This release is
presented as a special hand-numbered and limited edition of
300, packaged in a small kraft box filled with blue smally
leaves, and adorned with with an original photographic work by
Keith Berry.
About the composer:
After immersing himself in the books of Aldous Huxley, Carlos
Castaneda, Lao Tzu and Nietzsche, poetry from the great Sufi
masters Shams-ud-din Muhammad Hafiz, Jala al-din Rumi and Farid
ud-din Attar, the Japanese philosophies of Wabi-Sabi, Zen and
the I Ching, a book of oracles containing the whole of human
experience through the symbolism of its hexagrams, Keith
resurfaced with the aim in becoming technically proficient
enough with his macintosh so as able to assimilate these
philosophies to sound.
An encounter with Akira Rabelais's software programs
Argeiphontes Lyre & Argeiphontes Recalcitrance - plus the usual
array of more academic programs needed for sound design, helped
shift his view of this little machine from an over glorified
typewriter, to a powerful sound-tool that could transform,
mutate and add a magical realist and random element into this
labyrinth of sound experiments - which by now it's corridors
had taken on an mystical otherworldly, yet organic sound, a
sort of waking dream which if the listener had the right tools
to penetrate could be awarded with a heightened awareness of
their long upheld perception of the world around them,
something religions of the East have called Maya, an illusion.
"I work with blocks of sound in the same way a zen koan might
work, in the sense that these "blocks" are supposed to be
"triggers" which though they do not contain enough information
in themselves to impart enlightenment, may possibly be
sufficient to unlock the mechanisms inside one's mind that
leads to enlightenment". - Keith Berry
Full titles:
1. The sun rays of another pale afternoon gently caress my
hatless head, sparkling an imperceptible combustion of illusory
comfort. Your luminescent mantle allures; my reasons are first
redeployed, then disappear completely while the glowing orange
of your scales are convincing me to quicken my decision.
2. Cars keep passing by; I feel like rebelling to my immobile
legs. I always dreamed of translating a tangible
apprehensiveness into the negation of the present. Suddenly,
everything seems futile, except our intense look to each other.
3. To me, it's just an oddness, for I listen through fingers
and heart. Even if I can't hold you in my hands, I'd surely
wish you had it instead of me. Do you see me now? What form do
I have? What colour, then?
4. My backward voyage to the spring: memories are smashed to
smithereens. I never thought much about my schoolmates, always
had to enter that door much earlier than the others. Little did
I know I would have met you there.
5. Can you elevate yourself when surrounded by dark waters? I
wish I knew - I couldn't find the courage to jump, that
november evening. I'm paddling to no avail, trying to find you.
Your new condition put a distance that we need to shorten.
6. Fuscous presages don't help remaining cool. Numberless
reproaches have blocked my escapes and no one ever will give me
a ride to your place. No one will miss my silences, too. It's
not really inestimable - still it has a value to me. You just
seem not to care; an eternity awaits for you to understand.
7. Knelt over the water, my whole being is a perfect zero if
looked from above. My devoutness to intuition will deliver me
from sorrow.
8. Tomorrow I'll become adult: still I don't know why should I.
Levigating new angles of harsh realities is not what I am
supposed to learn.
9. You left me behind - but I can swim.
_______________________________________________________________________
01-The Sun Rays Of Another Pale Afternoon [05:13]
02-Cars Keep Passing By [06:14]
03-To Me, It's Just An Oddness [04:53]
04-My Backward Voyage To The Spring [05:02]
05-Can You Elevate Yourself [05:17]
06-Fuscous Presages Don't Help Remaining Cool [04:05]
07-Knelt Over The Water [05:44]
08-Tomorrow I'll Become Adult [00:59]
09-You Left Me Behind - But I Can Swim [06:25]
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43:52 min