Review Summary: Fleetingly abstract.
With previous releases, Spanish composer Francisco Meirino (currently a Switzerland resident) has been pretty blunt in his presentation. Albums like 2014’s
Knowing More How Than Why were basically re-contextualized field recordings, focusing on the Schaeffer school of thought: music made of non-music. Some song titles off of
Knowing (…) include “Burning a Reel Tape Loop” and "Citric Acid on an Open Circuit”, which give the impression of potato-battery experiments that probably won’t rewrite the rulebook. Trying to emphasize the intrigue of day-to-day sounds, while still valid, has become a bit lame when trying to justify newer musique concrète compositions.
Surrender, Render, End is significant in that it does emphasize those sounds, but only to bastardize them in a weird, dreamy, retrospective sense. (Think, maybe, the film
Jacob’s Ladder, which would require a lengthy essay to explain properly, but has some similar themes of blending nightmare and reality, with induced paranoia.)
It’s well-made electroacoustic music, with emphasis on “made” (the appeal in this style is often in acknowledging the process, as much as it is enjoying the sounds). The catch is, it’s often a bit too dense to highlight its motifs justly. It blends lowercase amplification with labyrinthine construction, and the listener hardly has time to enjoy the textures before being swept through a different channel. Tracks like “In Need of Anything, No, Perhaps Nothing” are fragmented, which was definitely Meirino’s goal, and presents
Surrender, Render, End as a unique combination of elaborative patience and chaotic impatience. It’s all pretty mad-scientist-y, with Meirino’s rat-in-a-maze experiments coming together beautifully at times, fortunately. Some of the noises seem to massage the brain, like opener “Surrender”, which creates this balloon-like, oscillating rubbing effect; or, mid-album “Render”, which whispers, creaks, and probes before subduing the listener with acupuncture.
Surrender, Render, End has a really specific appeal, to the point where it’s anyone’s guess who belongs within. To its credit, those who probably
do belong will recurrently question their presence: a “
what am I doing here and why can't I leave?” type of feel.
Surrender, Render, End is sadistic, yet occasionally merciful - unpredictable when it wants to be, and tranquil when needed.
