I thought I’d figured out Kenny Sanderson’s post-Facialmess creative form across the half a dozen or so Like Weeds releases to date, but ‘Until There Is Nothing Left’ still sideswipes that understanding. The cassette picks up components of the superb ‘Closer At Hand Than God’ CD and transplants them into a less overtly compositional setting, suggesting the expanse of Like Weeds is not yet settled almost three years into the project.
The title track is the dominant voice of the cassette, a throbbing electronics drone moving in and out of stability, as flurries of sympathetic resonance are flung from the track by what seems to be a cluster of interlinked effects. Those aligned voices start to grow in stature and volume, a searing higher register scorching the piece as a coarse rumble settles in behind, and an ominous regularised pulse encircles the work to apex it and then eventually force its implosion into a clenched hiss of high-end. Each element is simple, but the trajectory of the track is key as it slowly grows in weight and stature, its early form nothing like the brutish colossus it matures into. Facialmess explored a lot of sonic and compositional ideas, but Like Weeds seems intended to address areas of industrial and experimental audio which were beyond even the open arms of Facialmess’ long career – and “Until There Is Nothing Left” takes intent and intense advantage of that, its long form and slow build unlike anything I’ve heard from Kenny to date.
Many previous Like Weeds works play out strange foley narratives, but on ‘Until There Is Nothing Left’ only shortest track “Involuntary Process” has that sensibility, metallic edges scraped against one another and subtly effected, the experience taking on a torturous overtone which is set over dark low-end brushstrokes and an idling ticking. Once again there’s an almost visual overload to the atmosphere of the track, but that type of mini-narrative is not the intended focus of this cassette, and the experience is lost quickly and unapologetically, leading into “My Body Adapts To Its Presence”’s redux of the title track’s electronics flexes.
The final piece doesn’t have the same maturation as the title track but does add some acoustic metal strikes to the blooming of its layers of undulating electronics, the tonal palette broader but the structure less intense as a frantic twitching, warning siren, and low-end exploration are all interchanged without the textural stacking of the opening side. ‘My Body Adapts To Its Presence’ is a more exploratory and free-form take on similar elements to the title track, a greater glimpse of the equipment which is at the soldered heart of ‘Until There Is Nothing Left’ and seems almost surprised by itself as the final few minutes yield a succession of new voices.
Deathbed Tapes’ morbid black and white aesthetic is in usual effect, given extra space thanks to the oversized case used to house ‘Until There Is Nothing Left’ – although that expanse feels a bit unused, with no inner artwork or insert offered up. Both label and artist have a strong voice/aesthetic with inherent flexibility, and this cassette takes advantage of both: a clutch of familiar ideas given extension by the artist and minimalist interaction by the label.
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