A map of only the fire hydrants in Tokyo is still a map of Tokyo. This record is a map of sorts too. One edged by referents to the electromagnetic cartographies of Christina Kubisch on one axis, the mechanical insect-objects of Rie Nakajima on the other. Drawing overlapping ellipses in the space between is where Ross Manning’s work lives, vibrates. This album collects pick-up coil swirls of noise and dirty electronics on one hand; all sliding tones and ascending ghostly spirals. On the other hand, tabletop landscapes of delicate mechanical tumbles and clicks.
Interlacing is just one point, one realisation, along the spectrum of Manning’s practice, but these two axes – the almost spectral shifts of expand scatter, the tinkerings of % – align well across all five pieces, each having a decisive momentum, whilst still entertaining the possibility of drift. That is, fixed as they are on vinyl, these pieces retain the hand of the performer.
Final track Silhouettes is a joyous suite of well assembled moments; burbling sound-objects, buzzes that sit happily alongside avian chirrups, and hints of classic concrète inspired bricolage.
Interlacing is a fully formed introduction to Ross Manning’s work, and should encourage listeners to dig deeper. Recommended.