A Noise, A Sound

Chronique

Many saw in A Noise, A Sound a new take on Brian Eno and David Byrne's My Life in the Bush of Ghosts. Both use samples from traditional music around the world, but where the latter were exploring a world/ambient path, Roberto Musci and Giovani Venosta veered into something both more playful and challenging. The keyword here is integration. The ethnological recordings are not stamped over the pair's catchy tunes to provide exotic colors, nor are they embedded in the background to create unusual textures. They literally become part of the music; their melodies, harmonies, and rhythms serve as the basis for these pieces. The integration goes far enough that it is difficult to establish which instruments have been plundered from pre-existing sources and which ones were performed specifically for the project -- that is, unless you glance at the liner notes detailing the nature of all samples. With this prime material, Musci and Venosta have created lively quixotic dances and blurred distinctions between classical music and folklore by twisting structures and forms. The result is a rich tapestry filled with toe-tapping moments and surprises. Although instrumental, this music is still very song-oriented, much more than the duo's subsequent albums, which have tended to get closer to electro-acoustic art. Highlights abound, but two tracks must be pointed out: "Ramexico" for an incredible vocal rant by David Moss and the first part of "A Larian Symphony: From Perry Como to Edgard Varese" in which Venosta "gets down" on the spinet, delivering a solo you really need to hear.
© François Couture /TiVo