This vinyl-only release vents delicious overspill from the sessions which produced the Norwegian troupe´s "8" back in 2007... tilts the balance between extremes - the velvet touch and the billowing beast - firmly in favour of the feral. But whereas before the bipolarity had a tendency to cast listeners adrift, leaving them with gobsmacked looks, glazed with a sense of bewilderment, here the passages of extraterrestial bombast more than match those of a more humanist, bucolic strain. 4/5.
"11" captures the quartet´s classic sound: a dark and exhilarating mix of extemporised rock, jazz, electronica and minimalism.
Muddling the chronology slightly with this six vinyl only tracks taken from the group´s last studio session as a quartet, "11" is more eclectic and unsettled than its predecessor. With Vespestad lend percussive hiccups and an erratic thump to all but two of these group improvisations this one runs from weightless trumpet blowing and lurching rhythmic workouts to staccato jazz space and scattergun jumble - providing still more examples of the seemingly bottomless ingenuity that Supersilent seem to have at their disposal.
Supersilent´s "11" sees the innovative, left-field outfit swim in the waters of aural experimentation, exploration and varied time signatures with sometimes featureless musical landscapes becoming layered and angular.
NOW AT LAST ON CD! When this was first issued, in 2010, it was a vinyl-only, limited release. Nice now to have it available in a format that will allow it to fit on the shelf with all our other Supersilent cds. Released when Supersilent 10 came out, the material on 11 was actually recorded much earlier, back in 2005, consisting of tracks left over from the sprawling studio sessions that produced Supersilent 8.
￼That eighth Supersilent we recall as being possibly their most "rock" sounding effort, and also quite a varied one, and Supersilent 11 does indeed sound like a continuation of that album, more than "bonus tracks", deserving of their own disc... There's percussive/electronic jitterscapes, littered with fractured bits of videogame blips. There's blissful, breathy jazz trumpet dreaminess. There's wack-a-mole percussion spasms. There's ambient driftworks afloat alongside counterintutive rhythmic singularities. Yep, it's more collective electroacoustic improv as only Supersilent can do, in their own special way.
￼It's also the last time they recorded with former drummer Jarle Vespestad in the group. He makes his presence felt as alluded to above.