Sakada Undistilled
The Wire, issue 228, Feb. 2003 reviewed by Julian Cowley

The three pieces of unistilled were recorded at three venues in London and Rotterdam during the first quarter or 2002. The Antipodean Rosy Parlane taps into a reserve of electronic sounds stored in his computer and occasionally surfs the radio waves. Gritty particles are released that intermingle with the juddering molecules of Eddie Prévost's struck and scraped metallic percussion. Mattin uses his computer to transfigure and transform this abraded surface lacerated this shrill gleams. His machine acts as vortex that sucks in sounds and channels them into adjacent acoustic planes. Parlane and Prévost respond to the changes. The improvisation moves- not forward towards some clearly defined goal, but obliquely, continuous yet different.
The opening track is the most strident. The second and third have a finer grain yet sill defy conventional geometries of listening. Sounds crackle, glide, crunch, shimmer, flash. They appear at once tactile and disembodied, solid and nebulous; manifestations of a material process that conserves the secrets of its motive power.
As music is, it is neither arbitrary obfuscation nor a strategy of mystique. Rather it eludes paraphrase and commodification, evades verbal snares and explanatory packaging.
Mattin's cover image shadows the sounds: clear lines that enclose darkness and recede into blur, lagged by fabric and fronted with a barb. It's nearly 40 years since Prévost and earlier associates firs entered AMM space. In new company, he's still making music that sounds fresh, strange, troubling and irreducible

Este «Undistilled» dá conta de uma mudança na caracterização sonora do
trio Sakada. Se antes a base da sua música livremente improvisada era a
percussão (para além do consagrado Eddie Prévost, dos AMM, dela se
encarregava também Rosy Parlane), agora é a electrónica que centra os
eventos, com Parlane trocando para o computador e a manipulação das
ondas radiofónicas. Mattin, ou melhor, Matthew Hyland, continua neste
novo opus a trabalhar “feedbacks” com o seu
portátil. A mudança é mais drástica do que se poderá julgar: hoje, os
Sakada são muito mais electroacústicos e a verdade é que o protagonismo
dos sons electrónicos altera os próprios parâmetros da prática da
improvisação. Por vários motivos, o principal dos quais sendo o
afastamento do primado instrumental. Os instrumentos acústicos
convencionais, como se sabe,
tendem para o fraseado e o jogo melódico; de resto, foi como um corte
com essa tradição que os novos improvisadores decidiram tocar esses
mesmos instrumentos com uma abordagem inspirada na electrónica e muito
especialmente na “musique concrète”, explorando por exemplo os sons
adjacentes (da madeira no caso do violoncelo, dos “pickups” no da
guitarra, do sopro no dos saxofones) e técnicas que vão muito para lá
das notas do solfejo ocidental ou que, pura e
simplesmente, o recusam na totalidade. Neste grupo, a opção pela
tecnologia digital contorna esses procedimentos miméticos e vai ao
fulcro da questão, com Prévost a acentuar a dimensão humana. Isto é
música electroacústica com sangue e tripas e nervos.

Undistilled, Matchless Recordings
Rui Eduardo Paes
Crítico de música, jornalista e ensaísta
(Music journalist and writer)
Rua Gil Vicente, 193 3ºG
2775-198 Parede
Portugal
www.rep.no.sapo.pt

DownTownMusicGallery. New York.

SAKADA [MATTIN/ROSY PARLANE/EDDIE PREVOST] - Undistilled (Matchless
49) This is another immensely dark and engaging release from Eddie
Prevost (of AMM)'s label. Sakada features Rosy Parlane (from New
Zealand band Thela) on computer/radio, Eddie on percussion and
someone named Mattin on digital transfiguration. It was recorded
live at three gigs in London and Rotterdam in the first three months
of 2002. I played this in the store a few nights ago and a couple
who wandered in seemed to find this quite disturbing. Eddie's
selective, orchestral and occasionally eerie cymbal work floats
through as more dark, sonic eruptions counter-balance any more
positive vibes. It is often difficult to figure out what any
specific sound sources are, as dark and harsh electronic drones bathe
the proceedings in an unnerving haze. Most of the percussion is
surrounded by a shroud of echoes, which also add a sinister presence.
This overall effect is closer to industrial music, than anything I've
encountered in quite a while. The occasional violent eruptions are a
bit too much at times, yet the rare change in dynamics allow for a
few moments of reflection. Once again, the disturbing arsenal of
Zev-like metal percussion sounds make this rather nightmarish at
times. I keep thinking about wanting to get up and switch to some
more folky or somber world music (later on for that), but I must
persevere, thus is the lonely life of a music journalist. The cover
art is purposefully out-of-focus, but just may be the bloody claws of
some animal caught in a trap behind a barbed wire fence. This also
seems most appropriate. Your choice sonic abandon seems to be for
the brave mostly.