Triste

Skeptics may ask — not unjustifiably — why it is that forward-thinking guitarist Oren Ambarchi should be hailed as some sort of genius for a work such as 2005's two-part Triste, which, it would seem, consists of nothing more than improvised minimalist experiments with seemingly disconnected notes and tones. Originally performed before a live audience in 2001, these two lengthy movements were eventually made available exclusively on vinyl (you can actually hear the telltale crackles and pops here), but then Ambarchi's subsequent collaboration with drone-metal titans Sunn O))) precipitated their transfer (along with two, shorter remixes) to CD by Southern Lord Recordings. The first piece lasts an amazing 18 minutes and comprises almost as much dead silence as it does softly swelling notes tiptoeing within it; the study of these notes as they hang, quaver, and eventually fade into the silence presumably fulfilling the actual point of the entire Triste exercise. "Pt. 2" is half a minute longer still, and spends much of that time emitting an alarm-like trilling that's guaranteed to set the wife on edge (it was tested!) on its way to a more varied (but no less grating) sequence of electronic chirps and feedback squeaks that quite resemble an army of termites tearing through your skull. The final pair of remixes feature arbitrary portions of the above in significantly shorter guises, cynics will think. As for the whole, curious enterprise, it's certainly unconventional, yes, but is it art? Heck, most definitely — Ambarchi's credentials speak for themselves. But calling it entertainment raises yet another point of contention: serious guitar geeks and avant-garde musos will appreciate it on the scientific level for which it was intended, but the vast majority of music fans will likely think it a soundtrack for watching paint dry.