You know, I never used to have to keep a pair of scissors in the desk drawer next to where I sit and listen to music, but since I have recently been sent (very kindly) a number of CDs from the Entr’acte label they have been in constant use. The reason being that most, (though not all) Entr’acte releases come sealed into airtight plastic pockets that have to be cut open to release the disc. The pocket I opened tonight wrapped around a disc named A Narrow Angle by the German sound arranger and artist Marc Behrens. The disc was in fact sealed first wrapped in a folded sheet of  shocking pink heavily coated PVC-like paper before being sealed inside its plastic sleeve. The paper sheet includes a number of  short essays, presumably by Behrens that seem to be extracts from a diary made during a several month stay in Taiwan between 2005 and 2006. The music that forms the three tracks on the CD is made using recordings made on the island during the same stay, with the three track titles suggesting that each of the pieces’ sounds were sourced from one place per track.

Although I have four or five CDs of Marc Behren’s music here I have not kept up with his output very well over recent years. A quick scan over his website reveals some eighteen albums under his name. So although I thought I knew what to expect I clearly didn’t when I listen to this disc. A Narrow Angle combines electronic, I think entirely digital, processes and sounds with field recordings. On the whole it does this very well indeed, though each of the three tracks has quite a different character. The opening piece, named A Narrow Angle: Game Parlour Saint Fun is a brisk, edgy affair made up mainly of field recordings cut up, overlaid and mixed with little bits of processed sound that has lost all acoustic warmth and become digital chatter. The track begins with a boom, a brief couple of second long burst of  busy, bustling sounds before cutting to a rather lovely, murky, distant recording of what sounds like relaxed street life. After a minute or so tis is suddenly consumed by a further blast of sound similar to the first which includes some kind of manic Mr Punch-like laughter buried in it. This lasts just seconds and we are then returned to the cloudy calm. Throughout the track a similar pattern is followed, though the bursts of sound begin to take longer to dissipate, and each gradually dissolves through digital processing, so a burst of sound that might feel familiar, perhaps full of crashes and bangs or repeated voices soon becomes slithers of electronic abstraction. This all then slowly drops away into the field recording sat below again. Even though some of the processes involved in transforming the sounds are a little obvious, (midway through the sixteen minute piece there is a passage where everything slows down to a digital snails pace) an element that often puts me off of this kind of music I like this track quite a bit. It is clearly a labour of love that has been worked on carefully for some time and the attention to detail comes through.

The second piece, resplendent with the title A Narrow Angle: Taipai Metro Easycard 500 NTS begins in a similar fashion as we hear hectic bustling street sounds and chattering voices to begin with. Gradually though these are transformed into squeaks, shimmers and bleeps which slowly play out over the sixteen minute duration. The field recordings pretty much disappear and the music is formed entirely by these processed sounds, which actually work quite elegantly together, slipping and sliding around each other in a vaguely circular manner, though I must say I preferred them when combined with the snippets of unprocessed recording in the first track.

The third and final track is named A Narrow Angle: Temple Drink Vending Machine. This twenty-one minute long work is my favourite on the album. Everything is much quieter and mysterious here. From the start we hear low murmurs of sound that resemble very distant recordings of industrial activity, but are probably just field recordings slowed right down so that the slightest sound becomes an elongated event. The digital clicking and phasing that sits on top of these distant ripples is tastefully done with much restraint, so the slowly unfolding sonic booms remain the focus of the music. There are places where things are allowed to build. Six minutes in the sound of streets is allowed to grow and take over the piece until it is savagely curtailed to leave just the slightest traces of sound underneath. Things carry on in similar fashion, generally quiet and restrained with little flurries of activity every so often. With six or seven minutes remaining however the music is diluted right down to a thin whisper of digital sound which eventually fades away completely into silence. We hear nothing for about two minutes until a gentle whirr, similar to the sound of a small aircraft flying overhead appears. It hangs in the air for the last minutes of the album, changing pitch once or twice but never rising in volume, very gradually disappearing into silence. There is a real grace to the way this track dismantles itself and fades into nothingness that I like a lot.

It is hard to think of anything quite the same as what Marc Behrens does on this album, which is very much to its credit. A Narrow Angle is an intelligent, carefully considered album that (I am guessing) has been crafted in detail over quite some time. Although I have never been there I suspect the music captures two views of Taiwan as well, a noisy, busy aspect and a quieter, natural sounding calm. Good stuff.