AT A PLACE that is yours or mine. It is morning, evening, anytime. You are driving to work, to a theatre, home. You are in a crowd or all alone. You are in Rio, Chicago, Sydney, on a plane to Madras, a ferry to Dublin. You are at college, in a rest home; the children are sleeping, the grandparents are on the phone.You have your own time, own place. You listen to whatever comes out of now, the past. The sound can drip with well won laurels of acceptance, of transience, of longevity. There is a touch, a method that changes, adapts with the mood of the music and times. The touch is always personal, passionate: it embraces, repels, passes, returns.
Exclaim! [Canada]:
Surf is the second CD from the British experimenter whose sound manipulations begin with record players and tape machines. His work 'Vinyl Requiem' (with Lol Sargent) for 120 Dansette record players was awarded Time Out magazine's 1993 Performance Award. On these seven pieces (many commissioned for theatre companies) orchestras, rhythms, voices and rhythms ('Surf Finger') are borrowed, manipulated or run backwards (the ethereal tones of 'Box Of Lamb' and '1986 (Frank Was 70 Years Old)'). Jeck's resultant textures place him among others of the British post-industrial scene, rather than the mixology of avant turntablist Christian Marclay. The captivating layered frequencies of 'Spirits Up' recalls Zoviet France or Rapoon at their most mystical moments, while the clanging guitar loops of 'Demolition' recall the grittier tracks of Gilbert & Lewis's Dome. And Jeck is not just looking for musical sounds as vinyl crackles are amplified and mixed à la Panasonic and others. (Chris Twomey)'