Review Summary: A cold and atmospheric noise album that's perfect for cold days and the nights that you hate yourself.
Noise.
Noise has always been a controversial genre, constantly pitting listeners against each other and pushing the boundaries of what can be called music. Many critics believe that noise is simply what it says on the tin, and should not be considered music, while others consider it to be an artistic expression beyond that of more conventional forms of music, considering it to be avant-garde at its finest, artistic expression at its most extreme and sincere. Defined as “the expressive use of noise within a musical context” it has been thrust into the spotlight over the past few decades by contemporary artists like the legendary John Cage and more recently Noise-Hop bands Clipping and Death Grips.
However this album by Jeffrey D. Witscher (who for years has been making records that uniquely combine noise, drone and ambience under his many different pseudonyms) is one of the softest, yet bleakest, noise albums I’ve ever listened to. A master with textures, Secret Abuse has created an album that is not only audibly pleasing but physically also. This blending of grainy, distorted and completely manipulated guitars bring about textures not too far away from that of white noise. But make no mistake, this album, although bleak and unmistakably dark, has a crackling warmth, bubbling below its grainy exterior. The melodies that are present are Wintery in their approach but do not teeter on the edge of despair, but linger on a sense of melancholy and reflection, especially the opener ‘Futility’ which opens with a uber distorted guitar and a gentle, underlying synth edging the song along with its gentle melody that evolves into a no-fi alternate picked guitar sequence hidden beneath the noise and crackles. These subtle hints at melody evoke a sense of nostalgia in the listener not unlike that of electronic pioneers, Boards of Canada, even if this nostalgia is achieved in a radically different way.
The tracks also seem to pulsate and throb slowly along yet no beat or percussion of any sort is present. The tracks slowly edge along, and this slow pace characterises the entire album and makes the LP undeniably heavy. However this heaviness, like much of the album, is subtle and this allows this album to develop soundscapes much like most ambient artists seek to achieve.
Secret Abuse has succeeded in creating something that many thought not possible; a (relatively) accessible noise album.
Bleak, dark and beautiful, Witscher has created an album that is grotesque yet alluring, soul crushing yet invigorating and possibly one of my favourite noise albums to date.
So turn off the lights, pull the curtains, spin this bad boy and allow yourself to be enveloped in self-pity and wonder as you explore the sonic soundscapes that this album conjures with each song. And don’t worry. It’s always darkest before the dawn.
