Machinefabriek is no stranger to the compilation format. One of the earliest such efforts, 2007’s two-disc Weleer, collected the best tracks from over 30 CD3″s. At the time, it was considered to be a perfect entry point into the work of a relatively new artist. Two decades later, Rutger Zuydervelt continues to be prolific ~ multiple releases have already appeared in the wake of Samen ~ while distinguishing himself as the rare artist whose productivity does not result in a dulling of quality. Samen contains stray tracks from the past decade, originally available on lathe cut, business card, cassette, 7″, digital, split release and other compilations. Again, this is a fine introduction to the world of Machinefabriek, but not a complete one, as the composer’s field has expanded greatly in the course of his career, touching upon nearly every genre we cover and most recently concentrating on productions for theatre and dance.
The album also has a great sense of flow, as Machinefabriek sequences these pieces in a way that makes sense rather than presenting them in release order. The stomping “Sidder,” offset by kind flute, leads off the set, but other tracks from this release appear in the five, nine and twelve spots. The combination of aggression and tenderness is a staple for Zuydervelt, whose sonic curiosity results in instinctive juxtapositions. One of the most recent cuts, last year’s “Verpulver,” blends ambience, drone and crunchy, non-club beats. “Sound and Stone (Part 7)” is built on the sound stones of Hannes and Klaus Fessmann; the track fits just as well here as it did among the other eight parts, all by different artists.
“As Much As It Is Worth,” composed for a dance performance by Marta + Kim, is a window into Zuydervelt’s recent activities. An electronic pulse provides the invitation to move, albeit slowly and thoughtfully, an alternative to the club. With a decade worth of tracks to choose from, even outliers such as “Melodrama 1 and 2” seem right at home on Samen, as if composed intentionally for this set. Nestled snugly in the electronic section of the compilation, “Studying Space” topples first into density, then into filament, setting up the third Zinder track, whose timbre explains its separation from “Sidder.” Assertive beats meet placid, wordless vocals, while the flute vanishes.
Longtime readers may recall Angry Ambient Artists on the Forwind imprint, which we reviewed a decade ago. “Graniet” still sounds new, although we still insist that angry ambience (even when it contains chimes) is no longer ambience, but drone or noise. The chimes of “Graniet” are tonally connected to the organ of “Merg;” we can imagine how much fun it must have been to put this 17-piece puzzle together. Zuydervelt grows reflective on “Waqur,” from To Yemen With Love, setting up the sprawling, 16:27 “Verlat,” wisely placed at the end, a long, centering denouement.
No compilation is sufficient to convey all of the sides of Machinefabriek ~ one notable omission here, albeit understandable for tonal purposes, is his playful, club-friendly side, heard on releases such as Hinkelstap. We’d love to hear a second compilation of this type, and even ~ dare we ask? ~ a greatest hits album. The challenge would be in the compiling, as the artist has already provided so many transcendent moments over the years that it would be nearly impossible to narrow them down. Keep them coming, we say; we’ll be listening to every one. (Richard Allen)