Alex Monk

A review for the CD-R debut from losing today: Alex Monk 'Exchanging Chairs' (Self released). This colossal 6 track 41 minute set from London based musician Alex Monk should by rights appeal to fans of not only Brian Eno, Pimmon, Stockhausen and EAR (especially on the mind melting 'Soyuz 1') but Moondog, Roy Montgomery and other fringe psychedelicists operating in outer realms of concrete ambience. Some time member of Arch slider (who we now feel restless to seek out and sample) Monk crafts monolithic drone scapes by way of sound manipulations extricated via guitars, laptop and found sounds. The set opens with the 11.12 in duration 'exchanging chairs', a humungous sloth like slab of glacial ambience reminiscent of Sadar Bazaar and Windy and Carl and yet swept through with a maligned void less elegance more associated with Yellow 6. This impenetrable slice of bleakly cathedral like stateliness is pierced through by ominous swathes of regal swells that exact an unsettling edge to the proceedings yet strangely sound if truth be known like a despondent half cousin of Laurie Anderson's 'Oh Superman'. 'Neutrino' with it's flurry of chime charming softly strummed chords could easily assume a place on Montgomery and Heaphy's 'True' set without a so much as a batting of the eye lid though on this occasion sounding as though both Roy Budd in collaboration with Gnac had wrestled with the recording giving it a curious rain swept noire-ish appeal. The abstract sounding 'The Advocate on the other hand is something that Ochre records would have welcomed with arms wide a few years back given their love of all things inspired by the BBC Radiophonic Workshop while the daintily frail lunar-esque suite 'MG' brings the set to a lulling close - think early career ISAN meets Raymond Scott, a shyly beguiling slice of chilled out spectral galactic pop or rather more a binary coded lovelorn epitaph to a fading memory. However all said and done the sets crowning glory is the heavenly apparition like 'Przykrosc'. A beautifully realised symphonic score that's filtered through with layer upon layer of reverential swathes of unworldly celestial grace, shimmers and twinkles achingly with a sense of monastic majesty brought to heel by the appearance of Madam Butterfly like operatics which all at once evoke polar mood swings that veer between tearful tragedy and euphoric ecstasy. Quite perfect if you ask me