Oh, how tempting for a musician a path of imitating the effect of the
music that inspires him. However, the result of such activities is
usually a dopey, flat, diffident epigone which stands for "I can also
do that" rather than for "This is my music!" The others' fire can't burn you
down, but simply keeps you warm.
To an inattentive ear the music of Matsutake might sound a bit like
70s prog- and kraut-rock, a bit like electronics from 90s with a touch
of shoegaze... But something is wrong on all levels: while the details
are quite bizzare (the textures are holey, the rhythms stumble upon
themselves, and the dissonant stumps stick out from every second
melodic passage), on a higher level this wild bush is actually very
well groomed. Its seemingly unbridled, pert and uncontrolled character
in fact hides a bunch of energy, which is highly confident in its
development and never doubts about the direction where to make the
next step.
And, well, that's the thing - it is not just "all is possible"
approach, but is organic or - if you prefer - ecological imitation. In
other words - it's not an imitation of some particular music, but
taking its very essence, processing by (milled through?) author's
aesthetic sensors and giving birth to a new independently functioning
organism. Not a genetically modified product, but organically raised
mutant claiming his own place under the sun.
This kind of imitation is not an acknowledgment of creative
helplessness and not a surrender to the problem of self-expression -
it's rather letting the music from the past intrude naturally into
creative process. But nobody kneel down before it - instead it's being
honestly and saucily exploited. It's highly recommended to feel
sincere curiosity and optimism towards an ecological imitation.
written by Denis Kolokol
Denis Kolokol:
Imagine the music as a set of vectors of motion in several
directions at once - like the branches, growing and stretching all
around. Your previous album "9 and 17" resembled a wild bush, but
"Singin' Skin" is more like a garden tree. Was this control of growth
conscious?
Jenya Gorbunov:
I'm far from using any special strategy and control,
everything comes by itself. There are different kinds of music that
influence me, and I want to respond in the same manner - with a sort
of quintessence of what impresses me. I think of myself as of
jellyfish capable of taking shapes of favorite things. Is there any
such jellyfish out there?..
Previously I've been listening to a lot of improv, academic
avant-garde and electroacoustic music. And "9 and 17" was some sort of
emotional response to all that formalism.
Now I realized that my childhood was heavily marked by prog-rock.
Plus kraut-rock has recently cracked my head. And generally there were
a lot of 70s out there... This music is much "lighter" and playful.
So, the tree could be well-groomed, but it grew up very easily - the
process of recording was long, but somehow easy going
Denis Kolokol:
Tell a few words about how the album was recorded...?
Jenya Gorbunov:
Well, all Matsutake is usually being recorded like this - I say to
myself "Hah! I finally have Matsutake, why not doing something with
it!"
So, everything I can find in the house, is feeding the mixing board,
and then the computer. There I record parts and then play them back to
achieve a long delay effect. Thus I play at all in turn, and record
layer by layer.
This time, while improvising with sounds i was feeling like 70s
rolling out of me. I thought, well... I'd let them come out, if they
want so. Finally, being a 17 years old chap I would have liked this
music very much.
an excerpt from Denis Kolokol's interview with Jenya Gorbunov / Matsutake
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Music written, played and recorded by Jenya Gorbunov / Matsutake.
Recorded in Moscow, Russia, in 2009.
Dedicated to Kate.
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