Bands are a bit like atoms. Both are tightly-knit collections of highly charged individuals, many of which are too unstable to exist for more than a short period of time. When they undergo fission they release energy and emit smaller, more stable forms with sometimes wildly different properties, often also highly charged but potentially completely inert. So it was with local metallers Xmas Lights: they shone brightly for only a short time but their collapse gave us the taut disco-techno of Coloureds on one hand and Umair Chaudhry’s Blindsight Records on the other. Sitting somewhere at the junction of ambient, post-rock, hardcore, metal, folk and shoegaze, Blindsight already has an impressive range of releases under its belt and this month releases Tadzio Volume 1 by Brighton-based Nick Hudson. The solo artist, to extend the metaphor, is the Hydrogen atom: largely unobserved but making up around 75% of the universe’s musical mass.
Tazdio Volume 1 is a one-track album, just over twenty-two minutes of sonic meanderings in seven different movements under the banner title “The End of The Earth… A Flower With No Scent”. In its structure (and Zubair Chaudhry’s artwork) it bears more than a passing resemblance to the quieter work of Godspeed You! Black Emperor, lacking only the ponderously pretentious sub-titles for each of its movements – which it’s difficult to resist the temptation to invent on Hudson’s behalf. Highlights include the five minute intro of slow-building one-note drones under a building structure of back-masked electric guitar (which we’ll call “Dragging A Dead Horse To Powązki”), the four minute movement of layered harmony vocals over a bed of what sounds like bontempi organ chords (“Tears of Emptiness From Closed Eyes”, why not) and the final three minute 6/8 time post-rock groove built with shaker, hand percussion, organ and lead guitar (how about “Pacific Island Timekeeper #6″?). In the hands of a full band this last movement could be the seed of a magnificent post-rock opus, all
galloping drums and enormous riffage – but just as it starts picking up a swing there’s an anticlimactic flump, sadly not the first on the record, followed by a minute of silence before the piece ends unremarkably.
As these sort of largely instrumental ambient journeys go it’s certainly not a bad one, even though for each really good movement there are two more forgettable ones. Adding it all up, it’s a curio rather than a solid release in itself; it lacks the charm of KLF’s Chill Out, the breadth of Future Sound of London’s Lifeforms and the drama of Godspeed, but at least it comes nowhere near the improvised noodling excesses of Pete Namlook’s near infinite output, falling eventually somewhere between all four. It does bear repeated listening and it would be interesting to see Hudson performing this kind of thing live; it’s not the best in a field of limited appeal, but the musical universe is richer for its presence.