Review by "The Siren Sound"
“A Future Remembered” is a new thought-provoking release by A Signal In The Static.
The project is the brainchild of Steven K. Smith, a talented and dedicated composer formerly known as the founding member of Mabou, a well-received dark ambient act. On this new musical adventure, Steven set out to create a tantalizing atmosphere with a stunning textural vibe.
A Future Remembered strikes with blankets of noise cutting through the air. Melodies swiftly overtake the layers of fuzzy, white noise and become more intelligible, paving the way for some beautiful guitar lines. The rhythm section is uncomplicated and refreshingly minimalistic, offering a backbone to the melodies, without ever overpowering the sonic aesthetics of this particular release.
The album is built on a lush and haunting layers of drones and textures, alternating atonal dissonances with compelling melodies. The sound makes me think of the work of artists as diverse as This Will Destroy You, Mogwai or Godspeed You! Black Emperor or Maserati, just to mention a few.
The record’s production is also worth being mentioned. The sound is understated and direct with a very organic quality to it. The album’s playlist extends throughout 10 tracks that stretch the album’s sound towards different directions - from the depth of post-rock to the cinematic atmospheres of ambient music and the experimental edge of electronica.
“Enemies from Orion” is perhaps one of my favorite songs on this release. The track begins with a brooding atmosphere, as the drones of noise and grime get consistently louder, leading up to an edgy drum and bass groove, making its way through the static.
“A Future Remembered” lives somewhere in that space where noise becomes melodies and melodies turn to noise, going for a stunning sequence of forward-thinking musical metamorphosis and transformational ideas that transcend the usual canons of post-rock, aiming for a more personal and experimental sound.
The songs on this album flow seamlessly like an engaging playlist, but they also stand out on their own, as every single track showcases a remarkable identity.
Ohio-based Steven K. Smith is a man who likes to express himself, visually through art and aurally through production, but primarily through making pretty powerful music. This is backed up with over a decade’s worth of material under various guises contributing to different instrumental genres, and with Smith announcing that a further three albums are already written, there's no sign of things quieting down. For now, it is a new name and a new project, A Signal In The Static, releasing the album Transmissions From Yesterday. While the name may be new, familiar traits from all of Smith’s past projects remain, with some more prevalent than others. For listeners of Smith’s solo work from his last two releases, shoegaze and tribal rooting are intact, both a staple of Smith’s previous work with Mabou and Dolmen.
The theme of this album takes a shift away from Smith’s previous album - 2010’s ambient focused From Nazca To Heaven - and is centered on our planet and what lies above and beyond it. This is typified in tracks "Dog Star" and "Sirus B" (intentional spelling mistake, I’m not sure), being stars in our night sky, and "Message from Arecibo" (a Puerto Rican radio telescope (and also an album from Liverpool instrumental band MinionTV)) and "They Can Hear Us From The Stars," which examine our relationship to our galaxy through technology. Opener "Message From Arecibo" is quite hard to pin down in a genre. It starts in the ambient realm and turns down alternative alleyway, paving the way for nu-gaze echoing guitar. This leads into "Lost Transmission," a dark and chilling track with abrasive distortion and piercing, repeated high notes that thankfully eases into a slightly more melodic sequence before returning to that uncomfortable place again during the finish. "Dog Star" features a lengthy introduction of effect-laden guitar backed by tribal chanting and percussion, overlaid with what soundS like space mission communications.
"Missing Strands" is more understated in its beginnings, with Masai percussion ushering in densely layered guitars, but picks up the pace as it begins to sprint to the track's finale with a familiar wall of distortion and otherworldly howls. The tribal influence is as prevalent here as on much of Smith's other work, and this is carried through in "They Can Hear Us From The Stars," as percussion conjures melody from the start and takes us on something of a spiritual journey in the following minutes. Subsequent track "Sirus B" is the album's highlight. At just under six minutes, the track builds a repeated chord progression while constantly adding different layers to increase the sonic space and open room for innovation and exploration. Closer "Progenesis" reverts to type with percussion as the main focus once again; this time a militaristic drum is used as a platform on which to build yet more layers, bringing this release to a close at just under forty minutes . In all, Transmissions From Yesterday is a solid release from an artist who has been around long enough to know what he's good at and to evolve his sound in such ways as to keep himself interested as much as the listener. More than this, it would seem that these sounds, spirits, and cultural ideas are more than just music to him, which gives these tracks an emotional depth to better connect with his audience, often in an hypnotic way. Whether this current incarnation of Smith stays around for long remains to be seen, but in A Signal In The Static he has written an accomplished piece of work.
-Lewis Woods@The Silent Ballet
Steven K. Smith’s guitar is a drill. An industrial-grade, flaming drill that grinds its way into you with unforgiving force the moment Smith lets it fly. And on his new release as A Signal in the Static, Transmissions from Yesterday, that moment comes about 90 seconds into the first track, “Message from Arecibo,” and rarely relents over the next 38 minutes. Smith’s signature is a raw, aggressive cliff-face of sound that smacks of alt rock that’s decided to go on a joyful killing spree. The dense thrash of chords, the mad yowl of feedback, the unabashed fuck you simplicity of three-chord punk turned into its own somewhat more sophisticated descendant, serrated around the edges like it’s being played too loudly on an amp that can barely handle the load—it’s goddamned magnificent. Transmissions puts its post-rock credentials clearly on display. (In fact, much of the stuff here drags up aural memories of listening to Wire.) Crunched together though the sound is, each track packs its own distinct melody, and many of them ring with rock-echo familiarity. You hear it in the deliberate up-the-neck progression and growing intensity of “Sirus B” and the rain-of-fire flail of “Lost Transmission,” driven by pound-for-all-you’re-worth drums. But I should point out that it’s not all snarl and yell. Smith dials it down a bit later in the disc. The rhythm on “They Can Hear Us From the Stars” is metered out on clacking sticks while a snaky bass line curls under a burble of noise. It’s about as calm as Transmissions… gets. Smith clearly loves playing with depth of sound, just piling it on to see what emerges through the haze, and there’s a joy in listening to someone just hammer away at the strings like they’ve just discovered what makes rock rock. This is a turn-it-up disc, a half hour of pure sonic catharsis. Come on. Come to the drill. Open your ears and let it purify your soul.
-Hypnagogue
“A Future Remembered” is a new thought-provoking release by A Signal In The Static.
The project is the brainchild of Steven K. Smith, a talented and dedicated composer formerly known as the founding member of Mabou, a well-received dark ambient act. On this new musical adventure, Steven set out to create a tantalizing atmosphere with a stunning textural vibe.
A Future Remembered strikes with blankets of noise cutting through the air. Melodies swiftly overtake the layers of fuzzy, white noise and become more intelligible, paving the way for some beautiful guitar lines. The rhythm section is uncomplicated and refreshingly minimalistic, offering a backbone to the melodies, without ever overpowering the sonic aesthetics of this particular release.
The album is built on a lush and haunting layers of drones and textures, alternating atonal dissonances with compelling melodies. The sound makes me think of the work of artists as diverse as This Will Destroy You, Mogwai or Godspeed You! Black Emperor or Maserati, just to mention a few.
The record’s production is also worth being mentioned. The sound is understated and direct with a very organic quality to it. The album’s playlist extends throughout 10 tracks that stretch the album’s sound towards different directions - from the depth of post-rock to the cinematic atmospheres of ambient music and the experimental edge of electronica.
“Enemies from Orion” is perhaps one of my favorite songs on this release. The track begins with a brooding atmosphere, as the drones of noise and grime get consistently louder, leading up to an edgy drum and bass groove, making its way through the static.
“A Future Remembered” lives somewhere in that space where noise becomes melodies and melodies turn to noise, going for a stunning sequence of forward-thinking musical metamorphosis and transformational ideas that transcend the usual canons of post-rock, aiming for a more personal and experimental sound.
The songs on this album flow seamlessly like an engaging playlist, but they also stand out on their own, as every single track showcases a remarkable identity.
Ohio-based Steven K. Smith is a man who likes to express himself, visually through art and aurally through production, but primarily through making pretty powerful music. This is backed up with over a decade’s worth of material under various guises contributing to different instrumental genres, and with Smith announcing that a further three albums are already written, there's no sign of things quieting down. For now, it is a new name and a new project, A Signal In The Static, releasing the album Transmissions From Yesterday. While the name may be new, familiar traits from all of Smith’s past projects remain, with some more prevalent than others. For listeners of Smith’s solo work from his last two releases, shoegaze and tribal rooting are intact, both a staple of Smith’s previous work with Mabou and Dolmen.
The theme of this album takes a shift away from Smith’s previous album - 2010’s ambient focused From Nazca To Heaven - and is centered on our planet and what lies above and beyond it. This is typified in tracks "Dog Star" and "Sirus B" (intentional spelling mistake, I’m not sure), being stars in our night sky, and "Message from Arecibo" (a Puerto Rican radio telescope (and also an album from Liverpool instrumental band MinionTV)) and "They Can Hear Us From The Stars," which examine our relationship to our galaxy through technology. Opener "Message From Arecibo" is quite hard to pin down in a genre. It starts in the ambient realm and turns down alternative alleyway, paving the way for nu-gaze echoing guitar. This leads into "Lost Transmission," a dark and chilling track with abrasive distortion and piercing, repeated high notes that thankfully eases into a slightly more melodic sequence before returning to that uncomfortable place again during the finish. "Dog Star" features a lengthy introduction of effect-laden guitar backed by tribal chanting and percussion, overlaid with what soundS like space mission communications.
"Missing Strands" is more understated in its beginnings, with Masai percussion ushering in densely layered guitars, but picks up the pace as it begins to sprint to the track's finale with a familiar wall of distortion and otherworldly howls. The tribal influence is as prevalent here as on much of Smith's other work, and this is carried through in "They Can Hear Us From The Stars," as percussion conjures melody from the start and takes us on something of a spiritual journey in the following minutes. Subsequent track "Sirus B" is the album's highlight. At just under six minutes, the track builds a repeated chord progression while constantly adding different layers to increase the sonic space and open room for innovation and exploration. Closer "Progenesis" reverts to type with percussion as the main focus once again; this time a militaristic drum is used as a platform on which to build yet more layers, bringing this release to a close at just under forty minutes . In all, Transmissions From Yesterday is a solid release from an artist who has been around long enough to know what he's good at and to evolve his sound in such ways as to keep himself interested as much as the listener. More than this, it would seem that these sounds, spirits, and cultural ideas are more than just music to him, which gives these tracks an emotional depth to better connect with his audience, often in an hypnotic way. Whether this current incarnation of Smith stays around for long remains to be seen, but in A Signal In The Static he has written an accomplished piece of work.
-Lewis Woods@The Silent Ballet
Steven K. Smith’s guitar is a drill. An industrial-grade, flaming drill that grinds its way into you with unforgiving force the moment Smith lets it fly. And on his new release as A Signal in the Static, Transmissions from Yesterday, that moment comes about 90 seconds into the first track, “Message from Arecibo,” and rarely relents over the next 38 minutes. Smith’s signature is a raw, aggressive cliff-face of sound that smacks of alt rock that’s decided to go on a joyful killing spree. The dense thrash of chords, the mad yowl of feedback, the unabashed fuck you simplicity of three-chord punk turned into its own somewhat more sophisticated descendant, serrated around the edges like it’s being played too loudly on an amp that can barely handle the load—it’s goddamned magnificent. Transmissions puts its post-rock credentials clearly on display. (In fact, much of the stuff here drags up aural memories of listening to Wire.) Crunched together though the sound is, each track packs its own distinct melody, and many of them ring with rock-echo familiarity. You hear it in the deliberate up-the-neck progression and growing intensity of “Sirus B” and the rain-of-fire flail of “Lost Transmission,” driven by pound-for-all-you’re-worth drums. But I should point out that it’s not all snarl and yell. Smith dials it down a bit later in the disc. The rhythm on “They Can Hear Us From the Stars” is metered out on clacking sticks while a snaky bass line curls under a burble of noise. It’s about as calm as Transmissions… gets. Smith clearly loves playing with depth of sound, just piling it on to see what emerges through the haze, and there’s a joy in listening to someone just hammer away at the strings like they’ve just discovered what makes rock rock. This is a turn-it-up disc, a half hour of pure sonic catharsis. Come on. Come to the drill. Open your ears and let it purify your soul.
-Hypnagogue