'Aug 56' Is full of some of the most transportive instrumental and electronic ambient anywhere. Reacts particularly well to a good sound system. "Pharmacy Within", the first track, has a sentimental quality, the resonant, thudding background clouds are laid over with a loop of what sounds like the Fly that is caught in the web at the end of that old movie The Fly, saying "Help Me, Help Me". But this description doesn't do the exquisite recording justice. That ends and then the multiple, mumbling acoustic and electric guitars do the slow, sorcerous and pretty "Mbaba". I love the cover art too - it's a stark black and white photo, chipped and worn photograph paper border included, of a chair with a doily on it and an old TV, the photograph is dated Aug 56, demosnstrating the power of the arbitrary in the work of 310. This disc has always been one of my most recommended.
Ichor Records Press Release 11.97
From New York, NY, USA comes 310, a dark-ambient outfit who have been making music for themselves for the last twelve years.
Ichor Recordings is delighted to bring you their CD debut, Aug 56.
On Aug 56, 310 demonstrates a masterful appreciation of big city organic ambience as they offer a continually mixed and evolving dream scape of found-sounds, tape loops, distant voices and head-nodding beats. Industrial collage at its most basic and beautiful, this album is a virtual journey through the streets of Gotham, USA -- not afraid to take the occasional short-cut through those dark alleys or subway tunnels.
I/E Magazine #11
The world of this NYC project is not one to enter without a compass, a knapsack full of dry clothes, an acetylene torch, and $1.50. Nothing hints at the sub-subway caverns which
Once past the O Yuki Conjugate pastoralia of "Mbaba," Aug 56 is like finding yourself up to the receding-hairline in a puddle which you'd misjudged to be ankle-deep. Proceedings get progressively darker starting with the first yards of "Global Illage," shadowland which is half :zoviet*france: and half DJ Spooky.
Deeper still, the thickness of rock between you and the daylit world increases exponentially. By "Prewar Doorman," the blackness is total; the only sounds are those of albino cave-crickets and the turgid waters lapping at your feet. Press onward, feeling along the dank walls, slogging towards a smeared dot of brightness which seems lightyears away.
You enter the underground grotto of "Fear of Zamfir." Mineral-rich rainwater drips above you like heated syrup. Bats gossip about your Uptown threads, upside-down and somewhere out of sight. Beyond this antechamber, the growing light leads you into... the subterranean labyrinth of the Manhattan subway system? Times Square? Broadway? St. Marks Place?
The caves somehow felt safer. Even with the bats.