There’s a point in Ï€ where the main character–a shell of a man named Maximillian Cohen–says, “When I was a little kid, my mother told me not to stare into the sun. So once when I was 6, I did. The doctors didn’t know if my eyes would ever heal. I was terrified, alone in that darkness, but slowly daylight crept in through the bandages and I could see … and something had changed inside me.”
Needless to say, Cohen’s monologue is both intriguing and creepy, a fitting metaphor for the sun-gazing music of Tim Hecker. While self-titled owns all of Hecker’s sound sculptures (including Atlas, his recent 10-inch stunner for Audraglint), we listen to his 2006 LP, Harmony in Ultraviolet, the most for some reason. Maybe it’s the sweeping orchestral sections of “Rainbow Blood,” the kaleidoscopic crawl of “Chimeras,” or the way “Whitecaps of White Noise” lumbers along like Sunn O))) at some points. (Hecker’s remixed and performed alongside Isis before, so the extreme music connection isn’t a coincidence so much as one of his primary influences.)
At any rate, something keeps drawing us into Hecker’s black hole of Fennesz-like fuzz tones and hypnotic hooks. Especially during times of duress, whether it’s something as simple as a severe hangover or as complex as the end of a longtime relationship.
Now tune in and shut the rest of the world out …[audio:http://www.self-titledmag.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/05%20Dungeoneering.mp3]
LISTEN AND LEARN: “Dungeoneering”