A person can be lonely anywhere, even in a crowd; perhaps especially in a crowd. The biggest cities, which seem to present the opportunity for the greatest amount of new friendships and experiences, often yield the greatest sense of disconnection. The gap between expectation and reality produces this sullen effect, which is why amplia grey, whose very title implies overcast skies and spirits, can be born of Barcelonian loneliness. Even the track titles – “unplayedtrack01″ to “unplayedtrack04″ – seem to have barely gotten out of bed, and with little hope.
And yet, amplia grey is not a grey album; or rather, it is two albums spinning simultaneously in the same groove, the grey and the black. The grey is the collection of ambient notes forming forlorn melodies. The black is the extremely active horde of glitches and static sounds, taunting the depression from next door. If it is true that depression and anger are two sides of the same coin, then the dichotomy is brought to sonic fruition here. The anger is far more interesting, demanding attention, if only negative attention, insisting on being heard while the other is ignored. And yet to remove the ambience from the project would be to remove its heart. The loneliness that seethes and the loneliness that sinks keep each other in balance. And whenever the former retreats, as it does midway through the opening track, it appears that the latter has something to say after all.
The music here is made with analogue synths, although the press release implies that forest sounds are present as well. If so, they are either too soft in the mix or have been manipulated to the extent that they are unrecognizable. As no computers were used in the recording, it’s more likely that the forest in question is the forest of the mind – the entangled thoughts that grow like weeds and trip like roots. Only in the third track does anything resembling comfort come through, only to be overwhelmed once again by distortion. d.Forma - deformed - lies the landscape, a mutation of what should be, a warping of desire by disappointment. The only consolation is the creative fire, the red spark, the solitary color amidst the black and the grey. (Richard Allen)