Hyperrealist Music by Noah Creshevsky
There is very little about this disc that tells you what it is. Even when listening to The Twilight of the Gods you will still question what exactly is going on and what composer Noah Creshevsky has done and how he managed to do it. Is this electronic music? Yes, but not so’s you’d notice. What is the style? How do you categorize this music? You don’t. The composer’s term hyperrealist is the only thing that could apply. So what is this disc? Noah Creshevsky’s music is electronic but reliant upon totally acoustic sound sources which are cut, spliced, and reassembled into extreme moments and gestures. Imagine Negativland on meth or if Girl Talk used recordings of the Arditti Quartet and Elliott Carter. And klezmer. Creshevsky takes the source recordings of quite a menagerie of music, shreds them into highly-focused and taut strings, then weaves them back together into a sonic mesh.
The amazing thing about this music is that, paradoxically, very little of it sounds artificial. Each moment is woven together with such precision and nuance that the overt synthetic nature is almost completely obfuscated. These could be piece played by real people in real time. They aren’t. Creshevsky displays a tremendous level of craft in the mixing and editing in addition to the musical craft of creating mood and tone. This isn’t music you can make or experience any other way than via recording. The delicious dichotomy of Creshevsky’s brash aural falsehoods and his ability to make everything SOUND “real” should spark a lot of further debate on whether ANY recording can be anything but false. What makes it all even more compelling is that even when you know the joke, when you know how this magician is doing his tricks, you still sit, baffled, while the music plays.