Chris Herbert


Like pulling the sun through a keyhole of light, Chris Herbert's compositions sound impossibly huge, yet are processed for micro-consumption. Immense sounds surging and roiling beneath a tranquil facade of minimal ambience. In Herbert's compositions there is a gradual drift and sway towards decomposition. Even in the most sonorous drone, Herbert keeps the noise floor pretty high up in the mix until it eventually boils up and over, creating tiny shards of digitally compressed obsidian that scrape and scrawl over even the prettiest tracks. Herbert treats the long-form ambient album as a live piece, blending sounds together that stretch and connect tracks together with no interruption. Occasionally Herbert shows his hand and you are able to pick up the source material. A bell here, a cymbal there, quite a nice organ drone in "Zona", but Herbert keeps most of his world hidden from us, instead leaving us to swim in a warm sea of tones that could be wholly uncreated and channeled, totally untouched by a lowlier plane. There are constants here, at an atomic level, vibrations of something infinite, but other than that, we are left on our own, ears grasping at whatever sunlight filters through.

Purchase Constants from Room40

September 23rd, 2014