CD, Monochrome Vision, 2006
Apparently, Rafael Flores, long serving Spanish experimental musician, is most notorious for the “intimate poetical touch in the soundworks”. I must be too cynical and uncultured, because I am struggling to hear the poetry in the ten tracks of difficult experimental sounds presented here in this anthology spanning the decade from 1994 to 2004.
The useful and informative inlay notes contain a wonderful quote from a certain Fenici magazine, “…the contrast between the luminous mornings and the anxious dreams of the siesta… The light breeze waves a weightless curtain. The curtain caresses a just made bed.” I have never considered beds or curtains to be the most industrial of household items but I considered this poetry carefully and let it guide me in the right direction for appreciating this sonic art. Let’s have a go at this… A tap is left dripping in the kitchen as mother left too quickly for work again. A mosquito buzzes past the sink, unhindered in its progress by murderous hands. The breeze picks up, gently ruffling a vase of sunflowers on the windowsill, as outside a sudden crash and a cry is heard. Young Jose has fallen off his bicycle, for the third time this week, and this time he is quite badly hurt and the tears stream down his red cheeks.
Excuse me. There is quite a range of curious and occasionally emotive sounds in this album; unfortunately, each track tends to remain the same once it has got moving and things can become slightly tedious for a few minutes. This seems to be evident with much experimental music for many years; brief moments which might even be genius separated by long periods of tedium. Flores’ more uneventful periods are thankfully not so long, and when not paying too close attention there are some good background pieces. The noisier compositions start very well, with dense masses of harsh, unsettling sound, but these do tend to be the more repetitive ones.
“Clouds, Comets, Rumours and Worms” does stand up to repeated plays, at least for the more patient listener, and I would certainly have liked to see Flores live if I’d had the chance. However, this could be quite an inaccessible collection of work for the newcomer to experimental ambience, and for the more experienced it seems this would only really please those who are not so demanding for much to be happening in a short space of time.
— Nathan Clemence