Jetone Brings the Water…
Experimental musician, ambient composer, and sound magician, Tim Hecker, returns with a new album that is truly the opposite of its name.
No Highs
Tim Hecker
Ambient / Electroacoustic
For years, really decades at this point, Tim Hecker has been building one of the most forward-thinking and respectable catalogs in ambient music, noted for being both haunting and harmonious. His to-this-point masterpiece, Ravedeath, 1972, saw Hecker change up his outlook, from ethereal and surreal, to noisy and downright apocalyptic.
2013’s Virgins, another incredibly high water mark, also saw Hecker probe sounds that were genuinely unsettling and texturally gratifying. Dark, ominous, and dissonant, Virgins (which is a god-forsaken 10 years old now), was a glitchy experiment in forcing listeners to feel disturbed, scared, and overwhelmed with dread.
And while No Highs, Hecker’s newest record, abandons much of the loud, droning noise from his best material, it brings back some of his greatest lush atmospheres for a new, futuristic take that becomes almost psychedelic. The synths are layered thick with astounding color, providing and completely hypnotic immersion.
Over time, opener “Monotony” becomes drowned out in swelling, wailing, droning tones. It provides the sensation of being plunged into the arctic ocean after exploring an abandoned city. One of Hecker’s favorite themes, loneliness, is ever-present here, and while the piece instrumentally progresses over a series of movements, there’s is also a distinct worry of becoming lost forever.
“Total Garbage,” in it’s opening moments, features tragic guitar chords that skip like a scratched CD. Incredibly melancholic wind instruments layer on top to provide a dirge-like feel. When the whirling strings add in, the feeling of loss is almost inescapable. Then, it all fades out nearly as fast as it began, as if we ran away from everything, the sound shrinking further and further into the distance.
Eight-minute epic, “Lotus Light” begins with a clear synth pulse, calling to mind the masterworks of Vangelis, by whom Hecker is clearly influenced. Over the course of its expansive runtime, the track falls into a haze of noise, drowning in wave after wave of droning synths and guitars; this is Hecker at his most 80s-Blade-Runner-esque.
The equally lengthy “Anxiety’s” riveting opening synth pulses as well, though this is more like analog monitors blipping away inside an otherwise sterile lab. Precise, if not medical, the effect is hypnotic, but as the song moves on, the world somehow grows even colder, its layers of soft synths becoming claustrophobic. The procession of calculated pulsing slowly begins to break down, revealing more natural sounds (saxophones, strings) like light through the cracks of some soon-to-be-escaped cell. The ending is more than cinematic.
No Highs is almost over too soon, but if there’s one thing Tim Hecker has proved over his long career, it’s that he knows how to create a truly immersive, evocative piece of music within a fraction of the time (and with a fraction of the equipment) it would take any other ambient artist.
