Free-improvisational Norwegian quartet Supersilent bridges the gap between jazz, rock and electronica so perfectly it's surprising they come up with this stuff on the spot. They don’t rehearse or discuss the music at all before recording so it remains as random and free as possible; here on 6 it can be dark and foreboding, yet at times has a strong tribal element to it. Other times it's as cold and inorganic as rusted metal from a polar ice station.
Anytime a group of people are improvising musically, there's a point when the madness becomes beautiful; it's like taking too much acid and becoming crippled by the sheer terror of staring into the abyss, seeing the world as it is and then deciding "it's only the drugs... I'm totally fine" as the smiling breaks into laughter, realizing you just spent the last 45 minutes in your best friend's parents bedroom, tracing a recursive pattern over and over on their Persian rug.
Yeah. This album is the soundtrack to those times...
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