If you are the kind of person who enjoys exploring the infinite depth of music beyond the suffocating limits of commerce, you may sometimes find yourself wondering about the trappings of academia. You may ask yourself how many of The World’s best sounds are locked away behind strange terminology and high-concept walls.
Bathymetric Terrains is the latest record from Charke-Cormier duo, featuring the work of JUNO and ECMA award-winning composer/flutist Derek Charke and guitarist Eugene Cormier. It is excellent and everyone should listen to it. Five stars.
I guess I should elaborate. There are tropes in experimental, academic music that feel like they should be earned. Two examples of that, in my mind, are the use of scientific terminology and spoken word. I find both grating when used to inflate the importance of run-of-the-mill work.
But Bathymetric Terrains is excellent. Oh, and we don’t really have a star rating system. If you are just a fan of remarkable sound design, there is a complete work to enjoy here. Same if you like impeccable classical playing delivered with sincere passion, or if you are into clever minimalism, or improvisation, or thematic consistency, or ambient music, or interesting rhythms, or the humour that naturally emerges from deadpan lines spoken over quirky melodies.
It’s all here. And when your work is so honest and just straight-up good, why shy away from exploring? From learning the names given to those mysterious regions of the ocean you daydream about? From speaking those words back to your audience?
The track “Leaving Earth” opens the record with a spectacularly effective soundscape that uses automated panning and volume to simulate water immersion. The detail is exquisite. You will feel thirsty, you will feel like swimming, and that’s only twenty seconds in. The piece then becomes an exploration of ambient improvisation, showcasing the nuanced solo sound of Cormier’s guitar, as well as the production quality present throughout the record. I swear I let out a chuckle of pure glee after finding out that the solo parts were performed live, with the backing parts, processing, and soundscapes being projected through speakers. I would have never picked this up from the listening experience, but the technique definitely giver the mix its own character.
The rhythm in the second movement, the titular “Bathymetric Terrains”, shamelessly panders to my demographic. Its 6/8 rhythm crowned with a triplet is the feel that gave birth to that “clever minimalism” thing I wrote before. And then somebody dares start counting out loud! This is probably the only song featuring counting I have ever liked, and it’s my favourite track in the record. There is something relaxing and cheeky about the deadpan, unpretentious voice narrating our descent into the depths, and it takes nothing away from the pure love of nature this record wears on its sleeve. The stacatto guitar and flute, layered with longer flute notes, made me think of the traditional music of the South American Andes.
“Morphing Topographies” feels like an underwater tour guided by a person wearing an atmospheric diving suit. The metallic vocoder-like processing on the voice is surprisingly unobtrusive and avoids becoming cartoonish. The extra echo once the pressure becomes “crushing” works to great dramatic effect, while the music outlines the peace and beauty to be found in such hostile environments. The guitar in this track is enhanced with a sort of shimmering trail echo used throughout the record. It is a challenge to come up with good, elaborate effects that work well with the sound of classical guitar. I think this one is a win.
The phrasing in the track “Water Is” becomes another example of clever minimalism. It presents small sets of notes organized in devilishly complex and infuriatingly unpredictable rhythmic patterns. The words and singing are all variations of “Water Is”, and successfully avoid becoming tiresome. At some points the vocals are doubled with a combination of muted guitar and airy flute that make for a truly lovely sound.
Movement five, “Paths of Submergence,” reintroduces the aquatic soundscape theme, beginning on the surface this time, as revealed by the sound of seagulls. This is a meditative, intimate piece. The instruments feel incredibly close and you can hear the breathing of both musicians in what has to be an intentional decision. This movement really showcases the power of Charke-Cormier as a duo, featuring solos by both performers and very little in the way of ornaments, save from some light soundscaping towards the end and the liberal layering of flute as an almost percussive element, through a technique I’ve learned is called “jet whistles”.
“Paths of Submergence” merges seamlessly into track six, “Elemental Lines.” This is an experimental sound design piece featuring excellent synthesizer work. There is a lot of love for both the tools and craft of sound here, but it is also well integrated with the rest of the program.
“Terra non firma. The Earth is… ocean.” Is the phrase that starts the final number, “Terra Non Firma.” This flat truth, heard without affectation or soundscape, is appropriately conclusive, as is the rest of the track. I’m inclined to call this an “everything but the kitchen sink” piece. All of the elements present throughout the record seem to coalesce into this celebration of sorts. Around minute 3 the tune drops to a whisper and you can hear the waves in the distance. It feels like farewell, but then picks up for the final minute turning into a glorious and epic finale. Success.
Bathymetric Terrains is excellent and everyone should listen to it.