The cover of Tectonic Particles looks like it could be a photo of organic matter shot through a microscope. It suits both the album and the label, Quiet Details, who have a specific vision: each of their releases is meant to elaborate what the phrase “quiet details” as interpreted by the artist. In this case, the artist is Kayla Painter, an eclectic creative with a background in multimedia visual arts in addition to music. As it happens, Painter collaborated with the label in the production of this image (opting for photography so as to deny reviewers the low-hanging fruit her surname provides, though some of us are still inclined to reach).
If Tectonic Particles is put on in the background, a first listen of the opening track “Forest Floor” is like a routine stroll through the woods. A gentle three-note piano theme paves the way. But upon a closer listen, as the sonic lens zooms in, one notices every twig that snaps underfoot and each distant bird call. This is not just an abstraction– Painter infuses the track with real sylvan soundbites, drawing attention to the complex yet easily overlooked ecosystems that comprise a forest. Field recordings remain present throughout the album, one layer of Tectonic Particles that situates it at the overlapping edge of the ambient circle in the Venn diagram of genres.
“All Things as a Whole” welcomes electronica to the Venn diagram intersection. The sounds here are technology-generated, but the way they softly drip, drop, and ripple imitates the natural movement of water. Droplets are sparse at the start, but volume increases until their individual splashes are no longer discernible. They seem to accumulate into, perhaps, a small springtime pond. E pluribus unum. Is this resulting whole greater than the sum of its parts?
“Lesu Mai” means “return” or “revert” in Fijian. Slow, sweeping, and acoustic-leaning, this track seems to zoom out and take in a bigger picture– it’s more tectonic than particular. Zooming even farther out, the album then moves on from tectonic to celestial in “Star Stuff,” where it reaches a peak in momentum with a restless dance. “Star Stuff” flickers near its end before burning out. Its energy is carried through the rest of the album though, like a collapsed star whose matter and energy are disseminated and recycled throughout the universe. As if to illustrate this point, “Anicca” revives the electronica melody that “All Things as a Whole” introduced earlier. A shared bubbly hook makes these two tracks stand out, and we almost wish they lasted longer. Alas, “anicca” is the Buddhist doctrine that everything in life is fleeting.
Later, a theme from “Lesu Mai” subtly resurfaces in “Pure White Stalactite,” which Painter says is about “The drip over a hundred thousand years that forms a stalactite.” The track’s title, combined with the artist’s identification with her mixed Fijian-British heritage, may imply a deeper double meaning. Perhaps minuscule drops of water are like millennia of human history– each decision and interaction seeming trivial in the moment yet ultimately culminating in the current intersections of culture and genetics that make up the raw material of who we are.
Tectonic Particles is a contemplation of fragments and wholes. What are the building blocks of human life, and is there something more to us than our discernible components? The record itself exemplifies the concept; its artful structure and continuity add a level that goes beyond what would be possible from listening to each track alone. So, it is more than the sum of its parts. We think that the same is true of people, and maybe the human ability to create and enjoy music while using it to reflect and communicate is evidence as such. As for the water droplets and the pond, though, the jury is still out. (Maya Merberg)
a closer listen 