Joseph Suchy's universe is a strange one, and it is in constant mutation. The quiet, delicate
Calabi.yau bears almost no resemblance to
Suchy's debut solo album released in Grob's first years of existence. There has been water under the bridge since then, a change of record label and a number of projects.
Calabi.yau sees
Suchy producing strangely alluring psychedelic music. There is no other word for it: with its odd patchworks, backward notes, and melancholy acoustic guitar motifs, the album has claimed an island between the new American psychedelia and German experimental electronica. The guitar remains at the heart of the album: acoustic or electric, naked or heavily processed, live or looped. A touch of voice and a few seconds of percussion are all that have been added. The album covers nine tracks, but it listens like a continuous work. The image sticking to this reviewer's mind is of the movements of the tide on the shore. The waves claim the shore, their bubbling movements dragging with it an electronic chaos hiding a certain form of order. When the waters subside, they leave an acoustic guitar tune shimmering on the sun-dried sand. And after a few minutes the waters move in again, the guitar is submerged by the electronics, the thick richness of the currents washing away all folky sand castles, only to leave another tune on the shore.
Calabi.yau has the raw honesty of Matt Valentine's home-brewed new folk and the unclassifiable qualities of the music of
Martin Siewert or
Burkhard Stangl.
Suchy is a wonderful guitar-picker (in "Kao-on," in the delicious "Moo-ay") and a daring sound artist. Highly recommended. ~ François Couture