Much as I love Vivenza, nothing quite prepared me for the incredible Aerobruitisme Dynamique. Here the argument for composition, Man over Machine, could be won. A lot of his earlier work - Metallurgie, Machines - seems aimless, even collage-y, by comparison. It's quite nice to sit there and slowly sink into the Matallurgical layerings, ushering stoned sensibilities blissfully into an arhythmic catatonia. But a lot of this earlier shit lacks the sense of progression which captivates the AD listener inside its carefulyl plotted, billowing, embrace. The source material helps. Jet engine metaphors have always served my favorite kind of racket well (Rocket Shrine, anyone?); the literal answer to that is almost too perfect, history practically writes itself. What Vivenza then does with the materials at hand makes all the difference, the arrangements bordering on orchestral at times. (Side note. I seem to recall the inimitable B. saying he planned to do something very similar via Isolrubin BK, a much more full-on, "pure", follow-up to the marginally successful Crash Injury Trauma, but he pulled the plug because he felt the profusion of harsh, mainly Japanese, noise had rendered such endeavours redundant. Pity.)
I read - or tried, several times, to read - the essay published with AD (a real academic affair, that, with proper citations, extensive futurist quotations, all the trimmings), and despite having spent most of HS French class trying to bag the Spanish hotties surrounding my desk...
Spanish hotties... oh fuck yeah, mmm-hmmm... delicious shiver... yeah-heahea...
Fuck, where was I? Scuse me while I make a few adjustments...
Ahem. Well, I think I mean to say, from what I gathered, Vivenza seems to see that particular work as an orthodox, current day, reading of the futurist dream. A natural progression, inevitable as it was necessary.
Damn, think it's necessary to bust out the Vivenza toot sweet.
