“Young’s yet another essential voice from Montreal’s ever-busy school of experimenters, deploying ‘reel and unreel tapes’ among other source material… The result is a formidable musical narcotic, impossible to escape in its total strangeness and yet pretty damn user-friendly for something so entropic… Young’s is a maddening world of sampled sounds that manages to speak volumes while defying logic.” - Tristan Bath, The Quietus.
Back when I started making this material, it was totally a "what if?" kind of project based around this idea of psychoacoustically messing with the listener's sense of time flow, primarily by layering slowed down, sped up, and hand-manipulated vinyl samples in real time. It had no real intent or form—these were improvisations responding to nothing. But as I started eventually coming back to this material in between other projects and cutting it up, collaging the source material into the cluttered spaces of my sound world and joining them with my usual arsenal of '60s oscillators, found tapes, electromagnetic fields, and fuck'd guitar, the whole thing actually started to sound like a new chapter in my oeuvre.
As a practitioner of musique concrète, I have always aimed to construct functional spaces where musical composition or improvisation interacts with and operates alongside the sounds of the audio media it is recorded onto. In my last release, "The Poetics of Time-Space," I picked through hundreds of hours of historical ethnomusicological recordings to find moments where the tape, the needle, the cylinder, the microphone, the connection, the dust, the static, the signal jam, can be audibly heard, and built music in collage around these sounds. Here, I turn my sights to the commercial vinyl recordings themselves, improvising with records by manipulating the speed and the turntable belts in real time, but unlike Marclay, Chavez or Yoshihide, I wanted to take a longer form approach, more disorienting and slower, and less rhythmic or fragmented. I call it "slow plunderphonics," as the samples are often several minutes long and warped beyond recognition. From there, new music finds a way to dialogue with the dizzy sonic landscape.
released November 27, 2018
I (Saltwater) [with Eric Quach]
II (For Trumpet and Guitar)
V (Little Black Dove)
VI (Rangoon Tape Dance)
VII (A Primeira Pedra)
VIII (Driftwood and Hesitation) [with JS Truchy & Philippe Vandal]
IX (Picollina Weir)
X (A Dizzy, Congested Serenade)
Jeremy Young, turntables, found tapes from eBay, EMF signal, oscillators, electrified guitar
Eric Quach contributed guitar drones to Track 1.
Jean-Sebastian Truchy contributed a digital string ensemble to Track 8, and Philippe Vandal contributed some unholy saxophone racket to the same track.
Recorded and mixed at home in Montreal in 2017-18.
Mastered by Philippe Vandal.
Artwork and cassette packaging design by Zach Schiermann
Cassette originally released by Neologist Productions, 2018.
Reissued on CD by Royal Editions, 2020.
supported by 4 fans who also own “Dizzy, Congested Musick”
Ambient, dark ambient, soundscape, etc.— generally stuff in these neighborhoods isn’t my cup of tea. But every once in a while an artist does some work in this vein that grabs me. On Land by Eno, a bunch of Merzbow’s albums, and this one by the Caretaker, all classics in their field. Horrifying, but also somehow warm and inviting. For most people, this stuff is a hard pass, but if you’re intrigued at all, it might be for you. It’s unique— a weird, eerie masterpiece. Essential listeni karl straub