Whether seen as some mysterious religious sect operating out of Finland, or, more likely, as a spooky haven for like-minded experimentalists, the Fonal label has, in recent years, become one of the more challenging and rewarding imprints in contemporary underground music. The secret to their consistent success would seem to be their quality control; among labels Fonal is second-to-none and matched only by Norway’s very different Rune Grammofon. Seriously, just take a look at a few of Fonal's recent releases – Islaja’s elegiac
Ulual YYY, Kemialliset Ystävät’s mind-melting self-titled release, and Paavoharju’s genre-defying
Laulu Laakson Kukista – and you’re all but guaranteed to find something strikingly original, if more than a little odd and challenging for less adventurous listeners. Fonal have managed to carve out a niche amidst the ever-expanding horizon of avant-garde boutique labels through an unflinching, label-wide electro-acoustic aesthetic which traffics in noise as often as it does melody.
Considering this, Finnish cult artist Jan Anderzén seems like a natural fit for the label, regardless of the fact that his full-time gig fronting the aforementioned out-folk collective Kemialliset Ystävät has amassed enough product to probably single-handedly satiate the Fonal minions. But as KY has grown into more of a full-band affair in recent years, Anderzén has adopted the Tomutonttu banner for his solo work, a project which may deal even more directly with the relationships between noise and acoustics, structure and dissonance, provocation and pure surrender. The moniker itself translates to “dust gnome” in Finnish, which is as fitting a description as any for the truly fascinating sounds found on these two records, both recently reissued by Fonal after languishing in obscurity on the Ultra Eczema and Beta-lactam Ring labels the last few years.
What’s most interesting when comparing and contrasting these two records though—released just a year apart from each other—is how Anderzén so acutely approaches each individual document, utilizing the same basic instrumentation yet arriving at two completely separate destinations, which, while sounding very unlike each other, are unquestionably birthed by the same mind. 2006's playfully titled
Tomutonto is certainly the noisier of the two records, sharing sonic similarities with the fractured pieces of early Black Dice and the provocative sound-experiments of Boredom’s leader Yamataka Eye. And while it certainly isn’t easy listening, the record manages to successfully operate by its own unique internal logic, spinning something hypnotic out of the din.
A recurring theme in Anderzén’s work would seem to be nature, as an untold number of wildlife samples color his music. Most conclusively, the nine untitled tracks which make up
Tomutonto at times feel more interested in emulating the chaos of the outside world than actually cohering into standalone songs (you’ll notice no pauses between tracks here). In fact,
Tomutonttu finds Anderzén ditching nearly all of the acoustic instrumentation which is so integral to his work with Kemialliset Ystävät, here instead operating in an almost purely analog environment. On the surface, a lot of the music on
Tomutonto can seem to have little in common with Anderzén's band output (at least sonically); but the way this artist tweaks his samples and so provocatively patterns his minimally arranged loops actually attests to a noticeably cerebral kinship within his collective work.
Take track 4, which is built almost completely from a high frequency noise loop, only to unravel into a soft, almost pastoral stretch of ambiance. It's immediately followed by a quivering, undistorted guitar line (rare instrumentation for this album), which in turn is joined by monk-like moaning and goblin-esque jitteriness. In isolation, this can make for some pretty creepy music. But, more often than not, Anderzén offsets this demented vibe with moments of clarity. As a result, the bird loop which propels track 7 can feel almost like a window to the outside world, though the dentist drill intrusions, dinging clocks and distended piano chords all lend a suitably menacing undercurrent to the surroundings. Perhaps foreshadowing his following album, Anderzén graciously expands on this more serene vibe over the last two tracks, wherein he juxtaposes whining flutes and a washing machine's hum against ghost vox and copious amounts of ambiance and sustain. It’s an appropriate lead-in to what is a much more composed follow-up.
Tomutonttu then is a far more palatable album by comparison, though it’s still resolutely a noise record—it just so happens that the shrill, unexpected heights of
Tomutonto are curbed in favor of something more organic and meditative, though arguably even less direct. Opener “Tteema” is still grounded by what sounds like a heaving leaf blower, only this time attention is diverted by plinking, unilateral keys. The effect, intended or not, is less overwhelming, more, dare I say, soothing?
Two live tracks anchor
Tomutonttu, and they’re near polar opposites: The first, “Live in EU I”, blasts a pregnant elephant horn around some returning chipmunk vocal squiggles before free-jazz sax phases out whatever structure Anderzén so vainly attempts to fabricate. By comparison, he abandons form altogether on the shimmering “Live in EU 2,” which is the closest either record gets to true ambient sound, and the one moment during these recordings where the heart can overtake the mind and the stasis can actually breathe an intangibly renewed spirit into the surrounding shrapnel-like sound collages.
Of the two, I’d have to give the slight edge to the more recent self-titled record, though the degree of quality here is so incremental that it’s difficult to negotiate the differences within a 4-star system. Taken as separate entities (as they should be of course), it’s obvious both of these records ably accomplish their prescribed goals, one through unapologetically brute force and the other with a patient sort of zeal. Still, both these albums will probably only appeal to those with a pretty firm grasp on modern noise, particularly those with an affinity for the more extreme work of John Wiese, Carlos Giffoni and Kevin Drumm. If that sounds at all enticing, or if you feel like you can stomach work of this nature, then you’ll certainly find a lot of inventive techniques on display throughout Tomutonttu’s catalogue. As evidenced by that groundbreaking self-titled Kemialliset Ystävät album from 2007, it was already suspected that Anderzén was working at a highly impressive level around this time, and if nothing else, these two Tomutonttu records boldly cement that inclination.
[Published 07.16.09]