Man, mind and machine
The other day this guy on Instagram answered a comment I made somewhere, saying that I should just keep quiet, being a “novelty vinyl collector”. I found that funny, even though it wasn’t meant that way. Especially when I took a look at his bio – instead of a picture of himself, he had uploaded an image of a cute little cat.
I started thinking though. Yes, it was obvious that he hadn’t liked my comment and he will have hoped to make me look ridiculous. But I did ask myself how it was possible to be labeled that way when I don’t care about the color of the vinyl I buy?
The answer is quite simple. Things have changed. Back in the 80s, colored vinyl was indeed a novelty product. No vinyl collector with an eye on quality would ever have bought a picture disc. They were totally embarrassing. Even more, they sounded terrible. Which meant that people who bought picture discs were embarrassing too. Cringe, as you would call it these days.
In a way, that slightly unfriendly commentator exposed himself as someone that isn’t in touch with today’s world of vinyl releases. It’s perfectly common for even the most respected labels to offer both a black and a colored version. And in quite a lot of cases, color is part of the concept.
Just look at Astral Industries. Absolutely not the kind of label that would issue something that would be identified as novelty vinyl. And yet, here we are. Robert Henke’s “Layering Buddha”, getting a fresh vinyl release with no less than three coloured alternatives to the standard black one. Orange yolk, green yolk and blue yolk (the one I went for).
This is the second time they did this, after issuing Deepchord’s “Lanterns” in blue and red vinyl. Back then, the reason was simple. The album was split up between two tracks – “Red Lantern” and “Blue Lantern”. A simple conceptual decision. Just like it is in the case of “Layering Buddha”. (Such a nice cliffhanger…)
Henke’s album was first released in 2006, on his Imbalance Computer Music label. Its ten selections were all based on sequences taken from a fabulous little box called the Buddha Machine which had been created by FM3 (Christiaan Virant and Zhang Jian). It’s a small box that contains a chip with drones of different length that would be looped and layered by the little machine, with just two little buttons, one for on/off and switching between loops, and one for volume.
For “Layering Buddha”, Henke converted the simple drones into high-quality sound material to serve as starting point for the album. In a way, he created his own Buddha Machine from this source material, each loop transformed into a never-ending and constantly changing arrangement.
Play time on vinyl obviously isn’t infinite (except for the possibility of looping grooves), so the ten selections on “Layering Buddha” are excerpts from these endless compositions.
The original release had a special edition with a gorgeous idea: five 7″ singles for the ten pieces with a note on the box saying “Playback at different speeds, mixing and layering increases sonic experience”. I am seriously considering buying one to do just that.
In a more limited way, this is also possible with the black and “yolk” versions of the Astral Industries release – yolk simply because the vinyl looks like a coloured fried egg, transparent on the outside, colored in the middle. Blue, green and orange.
Why these three colours? The reason is as simple as it is fabulous: these special editions are sold with Buddha Machines in matching colours.
If there ever was a good reason for a deluxe version of a vinyl release, this is it. Delivering the device that was the source of the work that has been pressed on vinyl is as conceptually tight as it gets. I am sure that even the cat-loving Insta troll would admit that much.
What would you listen to first? The logical choice is to first experience the original, and then find out what Robert Henke turned it into. Very advisable. The Buddha Machine has deliberately been produced like a mass product that has no ambitions to provide a high-fidelity experience. It will depend on the user to decide whether the sonic experience via internal speaker is a little too lo-fi to do its magic – I chose to plug in my headphones.
What is it good for? Checking out of the everyday, accompanying meditative bliss, supporting focus. For me the third option worked best, on any of the loops offered. Getting busy on something while being surrounded by Buddha Machine drones and ambiences works so well that the sonics are soon forming a shield, to the extent that they bypass active hearing, allowing full attention to whatever needs to be done.
The listening situation is – naturally – a different one when it is offered on four sides of vinyl, and when the material has been transported to a level of quality that you would expect from a guy like Robert Henke. Careful with the word “quality” here though – the Buddha Machine has been kept that simple deliberately, it’s not like Henke took a shoddy product and upgraded it to more acceptable standards. Both are genuine in their own ways.
Being more of a listening experience, the album and its ten tracks get more attention, more scrutiny. The moment the needle enters the groove, the expectation is there, sitting together with you on your sofa, active, attentive, constantly giving off judgments and impressions. It compares to what the Buddha Machine offered.
Again, that is part of the beauty of this limited edition. Being able to look what changed, to look for the Henke effect. Is it maybe slightly glacial and expressionist where the the Buddha Machine feels more meditative and introspective? Or is this an induced sentiment based on who created the respective works? Do I hear Monolake echoing through the tracks simply because I know it’s Henke? Or is it really there because Henke is Henke?
The ten tracks range from vaguely ominous to subliminally sacral, from rather pure layered drones to passages that feel like sounds of nature. For more meditative moments, the drones work better, as a listening experience, the more expressive selections are more suitable. They all sound incredibly crisp, very much not lo-fi, and it feels like the meticulousness and care that went into creating these sonic experiences is audible.
Sometimes I am almost surprised how well the album fits into the Astral Industries catalog even though it’s a reissue from another label. And sometimes I sit there and wish I had a Henke Buddha Machine with the endless versions of these ten finite pieces.
But who knows – it wouldn’t be the first special edition Buddha Machine.
Release for review:
ROBERT HENKE – LAYERING BUDDHA – ASTRAL INDUSTRIES – AI-41
Get the vinyl on Bandcamp: Click