Cassette
Life is a constant state of flux. Even when we think we’re stagnant or stationary, we are shifting, growing, and regenerating on a cellular level. This sense of transformation, of movement between states, lies at the heart of Emil Saiz’s “Cycles of Disappearance”.
Saiz’s first solo full-length follows on the back of 2024’s 18-minute “Affect/Reflect”; a recording which hinted at the path ahead, but it is this inaugural release on the freshly minted Ruby Harvest label where his intentions duly reveal themselves.
The tracks that make up “Cycles of Disappearance” started as manipulated guitar improvisations, carefully drawn out, then composed and recorded in a single take with no post-production. They’re kinetic. They never stay still. The notes tumble and writhe as if they’re coming apart, fluctuating from one form to the next, twisting and looping, even occasionally reversing and almost always deteriorating in a sea of caustic static. Pining sheets of guitar wail out through waves of distortion. Each undulation sizzling into the transient shapes of disintegrating bonfire embers.
Sprawling, finger-picked vistas, such as those on ‘Sometimes the Moon’, aren’t immune to this approach. Saiz’s time-skipping synthesis juddering the notes along as if they’re the afterimages of clashing tectonic plates. ‘Grounding Phases’s slightly off-tracked fretboard runs careen from right to left, before vast, rasping drones bulge into view like great mushroom clouds of sound.
With this work Saiz is focused on track obliteration. He’s working through emotions, memories, and ideas. The deconstruction of an idea appears to be just as essential as the initial idea itself. The recordings sink into digital quicksand, roaring a guttural, primal howl of over-cranked gain as they slip beneath the surface. And the cycle begins once again.
Words by Jon Buckland
