The two sides of Bardo Todol’s Music 4… are distinguished by the instrument which leads them. The basis of side A is a hypnotic and slowly-ululating synth drone (think Éliane Radigue’s ‘Kyema’). Side B is string-dominated, and consequently has a more fragile—but ominous—tone; as though its straining instruments are wound tight enough to implode on themselves. Bardo Todol unify both sides with their use of field recordings, employing a near-constant hiss of running water as the skeleton for their compositions.
Often the boundary between composed and natural elements is fuzzy and dissolute. The result is an enmeshing of landscapes; a collision of natural and unnatural sounds that feels like wandering into the Strugatsky brothers’ Zone. Sounds could as easily be the catcalling of birds as they could alien visitations. Rough-and-ready analogue sources like hurdy-gurdy, violin and flute are transformed beyond recognition through their own interplay, and some supplemental tape effects. It’s a hyper-real album—as tactile as it is preternatural.
If constricted to a genre, Music 4… is best described as new-age, carrying the torch of composers like Tomita and David Toop. As such, its use of running water feels indebted to decades of tradition. Artists in this field have used water as Taoist shorthand for yonks; it emblemises growth, acceptance, and change, seeking that which is low, and moving with ease rather than force. Bardo Todol use it to create a curious juxtaposition. Instrumental drones hold you in stillness, but the flurrying soundscapes around them emphasise the passage of time.
Occasionally, Bardo Todol break their own spell. Late on side A, the sound of water disappears for a Boards of Canada-style looping melody. It’s a queasily effective moment; almost feeling like a violation or an ad-break. It’s like a spear of clarity has punctured the trance. Side B has a finger-picked, jazzy section which surfaces for scant minutes before being subsumed by the fog again. These moments are the most explicit example of what makes the album so captivating. When you glance at a forest, it looks harmonious and still—but all the while, plants and animals violently contest territory and fight for mates. Similarly, Music 4… is more compelling for its disharmony than anything else, as a multitude of unique voices jostle for supremacy. This album, like the landscape it explores, bubbles with violence, but is all the more beautiful for it.
Music 4 Strings, Sintetizador, Agua, Una Flauta y Electrónika - Vol. 1 is available for purchase and streaming here.
Words: Andrew O’Keefe