Tuning through the galactic interference of interstellar radio, Ay Fast‘s new album Nice Arps opens with vibrating frequencies. Eerie darkness floats across the Buffalo-by-way-of-Cleveland artist’s sonic backdrop, rattling distortion bending into jabbering dissonance. Upbeat waves of “Shriggda” roll outward, hollow conversation beating back and forth between mumbling visitors.
Dropping octaves to “Blue Rabs,” echoed mutterings flit across empty space rising above the shadows cast by a chiming undercurrent. Syllables stretch across space and time, a chorus of yearning coalescing momentarily before disbursing once more. Staccato bursts help the darkness flee, eyes gazing starward once more across the heavens. A moment’s respite sparkling through the night sky.
Meandering toward more earthly locales leads into concurrent conversations gathered unbidden, the gurgling ambiance of a sandwich shop in the “Escaglade” drifts in an out of focus while passing through. Heading outside after lunch, glitched orchestration “For Shemmmm” pulsing allows rhythm to regain control for a moment before straying back toward darker corners.
Life is jittery at best as this sonic exploration saunters forward. Surviving the mass-produced madness of every day is a burdensome task for some, endless jabbering distorting through the sounds of community existence. Metal clacking into one another above the din before the endless whine of productivity grates on. Fast and slow toward the finish, “Shit Tahiti’s” constructed repetition scratches suddenly into a sonic morass buzzing about “Buffy Dragon.” Slogging across this strange creature’s domain stumbles upon a gathering of the “Fluteish” performing brilliantly amongst the murky gloom.
All pieces pushing air in concerted harmony, Nice Arps draws to a close with woodwind and percussion gliding effortlessly around one another. Fading back into the dim Ay Fast signs off, looping into the silence.
Review by a career in the haw haw haw haw