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| Angel Trumpets Clicking Death reviews | ||||
released may 2005 |
“enigmatic and magical” Discorder, May 2005 by Nic Bragg, Zulu Records Whether slipped under the Zulu door, tucked into the burlap knapsack on the back of a multilingual penguin or carried by the winds coming from a cherry orchard collectively sighing, Lee Hutzulak’s varied musical output has always found strange ways to arrive at our stereo. Perhaps it is because there is something inherently enigmatic and magical about his delicate compositions of electronics, guitar, voice and acoustics. Perhaps it is just that with all the complexity in his universe, Hutzulak’s beautiful forlorn songs cling to the denizens of his oddly-shaped world, seeking meaning from the natural form and structures that bind them. Regardless, on this his second triumphant solo outing, Lee leads us through seven fantastic tracks that are densely packed with, in his own words – snow shoes, black forests, rivers restless under ice, cooling houses, beach sand and beach shell, Death playing cat’s cradle, a poisoned hairpin and much, much more. Listen up man, Hutzulak takes you there and if you can’t find your way back, then perhaps you really shouldn’t. | “beautiful and meticulous” Terminal City Weekly, May 12, 2005 by Cliff Snell Lee Hutzulak, Synesthesiac: Painting soundscapes with a bag of elbows For the past fifteen years, musician/visual artist Lee Hutzulak has been developing an idiosyncratic sound evocative of that dislocated space between waking and dreaming, between midnight and 6:00 AM. Over time, the leader of the elusive, ever-changing, and influential Dixie's Death Pool has expanded his musical vision beyond the confines of the traditional pop song and into improvisation, extended technique, soundscapes, and, yes, deep-listening. After relocating from Victoria to Vancouver, his increasingly obtuse yet still beautiful and meticulous collage-style of production has necessitated the shedding of the band identity in favour of an assured autonomy. Angel Trumpets Clicking Death doesn't exactly start with a bang. More of a rustle, really. A low hum. For the 28 minutes of the opening track, there seems to be all manner of small sounds—sounds made by Styrofoam and free running salt— rearranged and dislocated. "Located" might be a more appropriate term, since such objects are generally not given much musical attention. But for Hutzulak, magnifying micro sound is an all-consuming fascination. He believes that there is "delicious detail contained in everyday objects—if properly isolated, extracted and captured." Classic Hutzulakian muses include a clothes-steamer, a wobbly dolly wheel, creaky wooden floors, and, of course, "a bag of elbows." Since moving over from the Island, Hutzulak has altered his approach to music by incorporating recording techniques into his increasingly gear-heavy live performances. Using his digital 16-track, he takes field recordings and sounds captured at home and prepares a 30 to 45 minute programme to be interspersed with live playing and manipulation. His latest disc is book-ended by two such presented/performed pieces, by far the album's most abstract moments. This almost curatorial approach to live sets has allowed Hutzulak to go far beyond the confines of the pop formula. In Hutzulak's musical ethos, a "two minute section of cascading packing chips" is the new 4-bar guitar solo. |
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| © 2005 Mutasis Records | ||||||||