Drone by Massimo Ricci in Touching Extremes
The title could be a little misleading, since Blechmann and Kwang are not selling meditative resonance or deep hums; instead, "Drone" is a composition - neither mixed nor mastered by the authors - for prepared mixer and laptop. The slow/speedy/slow complexion of the basic pulse helps the electronic element to introduce a sense of displacement - particularly evident when listening by headphones - enhanced by hardly perceivable frequencies on the extremes of the scale. At about 40 minutes into the piece, we're left with subsonics juxtaposed with piercing highs tending to the realms of ultrasounds; the music has finally reached its fixed equilibrium, the innocence of the initial exploration of the aural space has given way to a glacial manifestation of human impotence. Sustaining almost one hour through such a course of restrained sonic acts comes as a major plus for these silent analyzers of our head's chances; declaring "Drone" as an excellent release is the least we can do after being left suspended, waiting for answers we don't need.

drone by found on Animal Psi in Animal Psi
This collaboration of Tim Blechmann and Kwang - ‘Drone’ - is one track, a 58-minute anti-symphony in league with Francisco Lopez’s ‘Untitled #104'. The promise of the opening minutes – the buzz and bleep of Excepter’s best - goes largely unfulfilled, and is instead replaced with the Martian field-recordings of My Cat Is An Alien: wide plains of faint crackle and high-end hum, vague surges of energy; extreme minimalism, as a sort of lethargic reply to To Live and Shave in LA’s over-excitability. The progression of the track over such a large canvas makes it difficult to track, and any narration rendered meaningless - yet a patient ear and a good memory will reward you at various points, such as the 20 minute-mark entrée of midrange tones, and the casual organization of beats into a thickened tempo; within minutes, the a flood of static introduces a fresh palette of sounds which recur with each delicate adjustment. An act of sabotage – though with an uncertain victim – the piece falls silent with 20 minutes remaining, concluding only with a thin pitch, resting just at a point of irritation, perhaps inspiring an awakening in the unfortunate listener without a “jog” feature, but ultimately inducing an early finish by impatience and a scroll bar.