One of the more interesting notions I stumbled upon in my reading of French psychoanalyst and philosopher Jaques Lacan is that of anamorphosis, how there are realities hidden to us only by our perspective. In his seminal arcana, The Four Fundamental Concepts of Psychoanalysis, Lacan presents Hans Holbein the Younger's 1533 painting, The Ambassadors (above) as the epitome of the anamorphic trompe l'oeil. At first glance, we see a couple of gentlemen in 16th century courtly attire posing at leisure with books and instruments. Great, but what's that blob at the bottom of the painting? Did Holbein forget to cover up a mistake? A closer look from another angle reveals the blob to be... what? A skull. For whatever reason... Holbein cloistered this macabre stowaway for the ages. Of course, death is always there, waiting patiently to teach us the ultimate shift of perspective.
Where am I going with this? Well... it seems to me that what is lost on many listeners of "experimental" music and left of field electronic music in particular is a sort of aural anamorphosis crucial for it's enjoyment. Music, like death, is always there too, waiting patiently for us to hear it! I present Vladislav Delay's beautiful Toive, from 2008's Tummaa (The Leaf Label), as an example. A casual listen (Don't get distracted by Carolina Melis and Lorenzo Sportiello's stunning video!) and we have a sequence of interesting yet seemingly unrelated noises unified only by a vague drone and the way in which they are being manipulated. Eventually, a marchlike beat emerges, drawing a number of new sounds to the mix as a whole world takes shape. The song never really offers up anything close to a melody, but, given the tapestry of rhythm and texture, there is no denying the musicality of the work.
All in all, if you know what to listen for, the trompe l'oreille should no longer be a mystery to you. The clouds of cacaphonous shrapnel that have been IDM's calling card for over a decade might start to
