i’ve written previously about the precariousness of netlabels. One that i spent quite a bit of time with back in the day was Distance Recordings, which ran from 2008 until 2014. Their output was generally of a higher than usual standard for netlabels, which makes it all the more unfortunate that, today, only a small remnant of it has been put onto the Internet Archive – in typically low-res formats – with just three albums remaining curiously available on their Bandcamp (which they never used much anyway). Without question the best release Distance ever put out is Live in London 05/14/2007 by Canadian musician Aidan Baker. It was certainly the most restrained music in the Distance catalogue, as well as being one of the most subtle, pared-back performances (of the very many) i’ve ever heard by Baker. And it’s absolutely stunning.
Rather than being randomly cut-up into bits, the three parts of Live in London do function as convincing episodes in the overall 22-minute performance. Part 1 is delicious in the way Baker teases out notes from within a soft, dronal environment. Ninths, sevenths, and other overtones slowly materialise; elsewhere there’s a little wavering oscillation, which changes and expands; slightly throbby notes make their presence felt further below. Things are happening at different altitudes, distinct strata within a cohesive whole. Over time, there’s the distinct sense (illusion?) of a slow-moving harmonic progression, due to the continually shifting notes and their emphasis, yet also a sense of stasis. True ambient, moving but not moving.
Though it grows in richness, Baker keeps it all gentle and soft-edged, seguing via a single tone into Part 2. A high, slowly meandering idea sings over small crashes of noise (like waves) and a light layer of ticking. More tangible guitar notes punctuate the texture, some throb, and eventually – for the first time – a really low bass layer emerges, vague and amorphous but all the more exciting for it, a deep dark presence moving below everything else. Higher floating pitch elements wink into existence high above, and by now everything feels rich and full, but Baker continues to keep it steady and restrained, a music of curves, no lines or points.
Part 3 begins from the reverberation of Part 2’s abrupt halt, a weak perfect fifth that turns mysterious, as we hear pitches far-off, moving not as in half-shadow but as if suffused with light, making them hard to discern. Parts 1 and 2 have recalibrated our senses, in terms of what constitutes activity, emphasis, progression, and relative to them Part 3 is noticeable more passive, in the best way. Ideas aren’t so much stated as suggested, Baker keeping them in the middle distance, not overtly drawing attention to anything. A couple of minutes before the end a high meandering line appears – a lovely, unexpected focal point – and as the performances edges to its end, some notes quietly distort as if being blanched by shafts of overbright light.
To call this one of Aidan Baker’s best would be hard to justify, as his output is so absurdly enormous (and of such a consistently high standard). Suffice it to say that Live in London 05/14/2007 is a gorgeous, absolutely mesmerising performance. Its quiet determination to understate everything – and in so doing, change our perceptions about the nature of what constitutes material and movement – is hugely effective, having the paradoxical effect of making it even more immersive. Intangible yet incredibly intimate.
Recorded at the Flea Pit in London, and originally released as a free download in 2008, this album hasn’t been available anywhere in its original lossless quality for many years. Until now; link below.
