Listencorp review image of regime of calm by cacero lazo

regime of calm

cacero lazo


Liam Murphy

October 14, 2019

Tracks in this feature

Tracks in this release

A battle of textures begins regime of calm. A pad, softly coagulating in the quiet air lays a comforting foundation…

A battle of textures begins regime of calm. A pad, softly coagulating in the quiet air lays a comforting foundation for a razor thin string to undulate. As it tosses and turns we hear the sharpness of its resonance. Sometimes it lies upon the warm floor, sometimes reeling wildly against it with twanging brilliance. The two play together in a beautiful embrace. Both rescind, and a humming takes their place. At first it sounds dissonant, but then as it shifts, we realise that it is in fact a melodic tone that’s deepness shakes the air around it. Thin sneering from the string as airy sounds whip around the large body of noise. Sporadic percussive sounds enter the fray, and so too does the soft pad from the start. The deep sound and it move as one in a beautiful synergy. The string remains sedated until the end, as all of the sounds ebb away.

A lone voice is harboured with glitching modulation at the beginning of Kattus Funnus. A deep bass drum and tapping bass begin to take the focal point of the track, echoed whisperings and a shaky chord progression find room on the periphery. cacero lazo utilises a wide range of sounds to create an uncertain atmosphere. It’s as if the artist has gathered shattered pieces from unsure contexts and found a home for them to twirl and breathe.

Leith Wept brings cavernous echoes, with slow, calculated percussion following soon after. A solitary sequence of notes snakes through the dusky surroundings. lazo’s favoured feeling is certainly one of sinister subtlety. Everything hangs for a moment before the drums start up again. Light notes appear just on the horizon ahead. Sounding almost like the chords from a Chicago house stomper, they edge ever closer, modestly playing out against the framing of sharp, jagged percussion. 

Delayed guitar notes stretch and venture forth, leaving quieter copies of themselves dashed against the pathway ahead. A cymbal sound yawns rhythmically. cacero lazo sneaks in a bed of percussion underneath us and the sleeping guitar as Drumk in Love begins. Some sort of creature climbs up and down the structure as faint talking can be heard. Some child’s protest falls upon some form of cold customer service rebuttal. A moaning vocal appears meshed with lower, atavistic tones. The album is fast becoming a game of interpretation. The answers are hidden from us, we are left with the cryptic sounds, forced to make peace with their isolating, eerie characteristics. The guitar gives us a repetitive hook to lean upon, but all else is unclear and cloaked in reverb or hindering equalisation. Dusty sounds begin to swirl around us, a sort of timid crescendo lazo will use frequently changing, enrapturing the listener gradually. The layering of the track is surgical, and even though it is the longest excursion on regime of calm, the production techniques employed create an imaginative and enthralling episode.

Zyrzos Screcht begins with a swiftly pulsing whistle. This gradually breaks away as a synth begins. It’s melody is ruptured and distorted. It seems to sometimes trip and fall on its way to clarifying chords, instead landing on conclusive sounds with hints of dissonance. The sound itself buzzes and whirs with a flawed fidelity. Though the sounds aren’t violent or aggressive, the wounded nature of them is overtly apparent. Is as if we are watching a performer continue with a ballet after being beaten to a pulp. The grace and skill is there no doubt, but the nature in which it’s delivered is that of a tortured and wounded entity. This savaged swan song continues, all the while parts slowly whistle and screech out of syncopation with all else. cacero lazo dives to the depths of the sound created, pulling up the salvageable frequencies of a shipwreck of sound. It’s heartbreaking and does not relent for quite some time. The sound merely curls into a mellow hole and disappears. In its place dull pads replicate its chord sequence, almost inaudible save for the higher notes that strike out toward the listener.

Snofelt begins with crackled bells reversed and mangled by the producer. Another feeling of tense unpredictability sets in. Highly strung instruments pluck out above the ambience. Fully fleshed melodies are hard to come by, and the listeners ears latch onto the pattern the strings create momentarily. Cacero lazo permits us to even hear the fingers of the person easing the melody out of the frail wires. The more abstract, inferred songs are tantamount to whispered poetry. What is uttered forth is undoubtedly beautiful, but with it we catch all the incidental cadences as they are dashed against the echoed atmosphere. Towards the end a thick organ plays a beautiful, introvert sequence. It pushes against the sharpness of the strings, edging their mechanical repetitions out of the focal area. The pad sounds ebb away slowly, with the sharp string stopping suddenly.

Canoskar serves an uncertain melody, tinged with doubt as a clap just about keeps everything in time. Whistling sounds worm their way to the forefront as little by little lazo opens up the soundscape to us. The shallow guitar begins to lead into a more emotive tune, one that descends slowly. One of the most solemn and heartfelt sequences on the album ensues. The little melody is lost occasionally through clumsy hands, but the sense of it is unforgettable.

Noamno begins with the usual shuffling sounds of half-made melodies. A singing pad that judders swiftly falls into a chasm led by what sounds to be a harmonica. More soul-touching melodies as cacero lazo puts all focus on the harmonica sound, the unpredictable temper of it conveying an emotional rage. It cuts out, leaving us with an even more stop/start sound that breaks down momentarily and is then lost.

Okyr represents the most open track of the album. In terms of frequencies, cacero permits us access to a lot more, the sound surrounds us and lighter melodies can be heard next to low movements as well. The reversed instruments almost tinge it with a J Dilla-esque feeling. Everything is melodious, nothing is inferred. It’s almost like the soul or spirit of the album looses its chains and flees the restrictive regime referenced in the name. As it flies away, we understand the levels to which the artist has gone.

Some of these songs are challenging to analyse, layered with such a large amount of atmosphere. The artist by no means allows you to sit back in comfort. It’s movements are slow, but so, so purposeful. It’s motifs are often swallowed by their environment, but the songs created are a beacon of originality and sonic skill.

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