Review Summary: The warmth of silence.
Ametsub's debut,
Linear Cryptics, revelled in serpentine rhythms and synthetic sound design, crafting an intricate, detached puzzle of glitch and IDM. By comparison, his third LP,
All is Silence, is warmer. As the culmination of his ‘New Field’ experiments in
The Nothings of the North, it’s an eclectic mix of glitch, dub, and ambient that seeks to wash gently over the listener rather than hypnotise through subtle development. That’s not to say that
All is Silence is a lazy offering - the same attention to detail remains - but it certainly is simpler, and possibly more human for it.
Musical anchors are central to the album’s composition. It’s a tactic commonly repeated: 'Rufouslow' quickly establishes a simple synth progression, providing the foundation for the labyrinthine percussion to build and ebb. ‘Precipice Drive’ starts with a bouncing bass riff and gentle hi-hats that float as melodic decorations twist through the track. Each of these adorning lines and samples is treated as throwaway, appearing briefly before being discarded. Emotionally, it’s a clever strategy, providing a reliable focal point before sprawling outwards, only deviating from the core for brief textural collapses. The result is a sense of security in an otherwise unpredictable and alien environment. ‘Vestige for Wind Day’ may abandon its warm opening keyboard for a crescendo of sweeping textures, but a gated airy synth keeps the track, and by extension the listener, grounded.
The brief moments of organic timbre and sampling offer release from the tensions of the synthetic percussion. Environmental recordings, as tired as they often become, wash across 'Sun of Madrid', offering hints of conversation that quickly distort, a twisted reflection that feels no less effective for the processing. The percussive sampling of 'Blotted Out' draws from twisted metallic impacts and rattling woodwork, providing counterpoint to chaotic synth line. It’s this interplay between the natural - albeit processed - and the artificial that lends
All is Silence its poignancy, providing flourishes of emotion amidst the nuanced drumming. However, the most human moment remains the climax of 'Cloudsfall', an electric piano solo that departs from rigid sequencing to embrace something a little less ordered. It's in stylisation that Ametsub finds his most resonant moments.
Its primary flaw is pacing. ‘Key’, a brief interlude relying on erratic sampling and glitched piano, sabotages the album’s momentum while offering nothing in return. This structural error heralds several more: ‘Dimmur’ opens with rapid chimes and scattering keys, an expression of nervous energy that revolves around a repeated climb up the piano. On its own merits, the track’s fine - the skittering finds stability and develops, layering on variations to reach a satisfying conclusion. In context, however, it lacks the drive to break the interlude, and
All is Silence never quite regains its stride. Consequently, the dance between tension and release remains lopsided for most of the third act: the powerful, lilting bass of 'Over 6633' collapses into warm harmony and birdsong before transitioning into the lighter, more reserved piano of 'Muffled Blue', with any remaining energy allowed to dissipate. It all feels like a holding pattern, musically circling the space for a coda that never comes.
Therein lies the problem.
All is Silence never quite feels like a fully realised album. Moments of continuity - the running water sample bleeding between 'Utmost Point' and 'Rufouslow', for example - show planning, but needless inclusions and an awkward structure rob the second half of its emotional cadence. It’s a shame, because the album plays with a luminous beauty that shines through the dithered loops and analogue treatment. The artistry just fails to find its narrative.
