So, Tom's most recent CD turned up in this:
Ha! That'll teach me to go to an Old Man's Optician!
BA/LS/BN is a rusty, ill-oiled filing-cabinet full of flapping A3 sheets of paper, Dictaphone squeal and microcassette roughage, feedback / foldback, geiger-counter clickbait and furry-sounding sinetone tunings...
The scrapin' and tin-can tappin' and a-rattlin' on “Illy Alley” sounds like feral archeologists sifting thru the metallic strata of the Anthropocene or some sorta nano re-enactment of Teddy Rowe. A feeling of passive-aggressive dismissiveness - a kind of of frustrated / throwaway petulance - emerges as the piece progresses, and shifts towards a sense of resignation and back again in a couple of places – emotional to-ing and fro-ing - an aluminised kitchen-sink drama unfolding amidst the clatter.
“Family Piano” takes place inside an imaginary, er, piano or guitar-case city. S'like being enclosed in a malfunctioning music-box, blindly feeling your way through pitch-black wooden string-strung streets.
“Floppy Metal” is quite extraordinary: motors whirrr, stop-start wheel-spins, clankings and angry buzzings, gearboxes grind against radiomulch, old-fashioned phone-dials rotating at impossible speeds // hyperdialling endless relays and arcane exchanges: all hinting at some implausible machine or electromechanical process.