Yellow Swans
At All Ends

Two seemingly unapproachable universes are the ones I will dare to suggest a subliminal liaison between, yet in some ways, the two entities under consideration could appear contiguous if not bound by the same idiosyncratic philosophy: to approach and make representable, vaguely tangible: nothingness.

"At All Ends" by the cataclysmic pentagrammatic Yellow Swans and "Die Große Stille" by Philip Gröning seem to direct, each with its own extreme and antithetical expressive form compared to the other, their gaze towards the unrepresentable. One could also argue that in one way or another, one is faced with extreme and merely gratuitous works, fundamentally unintelligible: empty exercises in style. Indeed, it could be, for some, a plausible interpretation of the unspeakable events brought into being.

"At All Ends" final and definitive, not only in chronological order, sacred act, composed by the experimental-electronic-noise collective based in Portland, Oregon (U.S.A.), is configured as a work mockingly and blindly unintelligible, a bearer of a (un)healthy exhausting, abominable blend of convulsive and reiterated power-electronics mixed with assorted background noises that are not better identified: liturgical, climbing, astonishing mantras molded in the most improbable and absolute noise.

Five are the total fragments, totaling a generous forty-odd minutes, of chilling assorted voluminosities; from the homonymous basaltic monolith opening the work, to the concluding "Endlessly Making An End Of Things" one finds themselves involved and shaken in a putrescent, cathartically apocalyptic, unhealthy jubilation of atrocities composed of fleeting yet disastrous assorted flickers.

"At the end of everything" should - more or less - lie "Nothing": the semblances of what is gracefully proposed seem indeed an excellent path to represent its inexplicable substance.

To be listened to, for the sake of contrast and completeness, as an unhealthy but perfect soundtrack of the cinematographic "Nothing" laboriously transferred to film by the hermit Herr Gröning.