Dill - Contemporary Electro-Noise Jazz
Off in the distance I can hear the beautiful sounds of a flawless woman preparing for a show. Maybe she is in the shower singing. Maybe she is on stage in an upscale music hall. Maybe she doesn’t exist at all, and all the tuxedos and gowns that came to the performance are staring at a curtain that will never rise.
An earwig crawls into my ear. It’s hard to tell which ear, but the insect characteristics seem robotic and electronic. A processing chip with many legs crawling along the soft folds of my brain. “This place looks nice. I think I will settle in fine,” it thinks. The channel changes. It changes again. Scrolling through radio fuzz and broken channels of every and none of the music we used to listen to. Maybe it isn’t music at all. However, the precise placement of each sound along a familiar rhythmic timeline seems to suggest an artist at work. Connections are being made. Connections are being broken. The earwig is starting to grow.
A flower of contemporary jazz oozes out of one of my ears. Here is something I remember. I understand this. Growing some more. Yes, this seems about right. I understand this. As the colors bloom, the flower grows into a picture from a book of modern expression and contemporary explanation. I understand this. Drums and upright bass, are those jazz piano chords I hear? Start. Stop. Whizz. Pop. The petals fall to the ground but keep their color. Dissected and dismantled, I can see it was the earwig all along. The collection of sound and noise could be an explanation of everyday life if we took the time to listen. The familiarity remains, but understanding is not certain. Where did the cello come from? Her voice sounds familiar. Is this theater miles or inches away from the sound experiments that seem to be transmitting from the earwig?
And so on. And so on.
“Music for contemporary dance and butoh shows.”
“I do not just want to play at the front of a live house to an audience. I want the speakers and the live space to come together. I don’t just want to play in a room; I want the room to play with me. I am always searching for somewhere this is possible.”
I’d call it contemporary electro-noise jazz. He calls himself Dill.