Difficult Interactions – DI-CD-1
"Surfacing from deep eddies of despair, brined in nearly a decade of
retrograde emotions, Hive Mind extends and surpasses 2011’s Elemental
Disgrace with a new vision of blurry, bleary atmospheres conjured
through post-dissolution electronics, giving the devoted what they
desire while still envisioning a new path forward.
In the album’s first half, the distress signals scrambled emergency
broadcast signals of “Wish Contact” thread seamlessly into the massive,
irreversible immolation of “Mars, Cloaked in Leather,” presenting a
condensed view of the earth in its final dissolution. Seen from
thousands of miles in the air, the last days resemble a field of
smoldering embers: metallic structures break apart and fall into the
sea, reverberating their last stunned gasps like submerged gongs. Wars
have been zero-sum; only loss, only obliteration, last soldiers laying
siege to ashes, fire burning fire, draped inelegantly with inky smoke
and toxic air. Explosives continue to detonate. Ceaseless obliteration
even after all loss of human life. Sound evoking the smell of
kerosene-soaked rags set ablaze, mortars repeating in the distance,
until suddenly a low, elegant roar, one that is unattributable to crude
human war machinery, emerges overhead. A vessel that could have been an
escape, a rebirth, but now only hovers, watching, bearing witness to
earth’s final dishonorable days. Poor and always compromised, never
proud. In disgust, the decision is made from above to evaporate all
traces. Sterilize the entire planet so that nothing (and especially NO
ONE) will ever rebuild again. Perhaps they could save a few as
specimens, but what could they possibly learn without being
contaminated? Enough. End it.
The second half of the program presents four short, stately, precise
environments evoked in sound, perhaps a view of four locations within
the witnessing vessel, locations in which other worlds, less lethal
worlds, can be heard and imagined. “The Roses in Bagatelle Garden” is a
chamber cooled with oscillating fans feathered in gold, lending a soft,
cooling drone under a new chant for new elders whose sacred icon is a
lock and its sacrament a bouquet of picks. “House Without a Key” scores a
stately processional to the court, every note and nuance trailing a
plume of fragrant lavender smoke. From a lower deck, a request is made
to “Come Alone.” A still pool stands in the middle of a massive
gymnasium; occasional drips reverberate off the walls, agitating swarms
of insects. From here, machinery from adjoining rooms can be heard
faintly, as if in translucent memory. “Pawns Put Back Together”
regresses us in a pool of psychedelic amniotic fluid, a ritual of
amnesia completed while far below, the world once known becomes another
cold, icy void in the universe.
Elysian Alarms contains many hidden surprises. It not only surpasses
recent releases like Beneath Triangle and Crescent and They Made Me the
Keeper of the Vineyards in density and textural variant, but the quartet
of shorter tracks present, over 75 releases in, a host of entirely new
possibilities, their synths and devices enveloping and protecting
smaller concrete sounds. At the same time, the blackened and greasy
opening track still rattles the innards and unsettles the spirit, just
as you want, just as you expect, just as this era of cascading
catastrophes demands. Be of good cheer, for the darkness only seems
eternal until the smoke subsides."

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