On Extrametric, Katharina Ernst dedicates herself to this phenomenon of colliding time. Synthesisers and distorted kalimba are a decorative metallic plating – brandishing the textures and colours of iron, rust and bronze – upon a study of skeletal dexterity. Without melody to soften the edges of the beats, those moments of reframed understanding hit me like jolts of locomotive gear change: the snare drum changes position on the fourth track and suddenly its simplicity becomes clear, dredged up from beneath my feet, formerly concealed within a criss-cross of off-beats and amplifier ga …
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On Extrametric, Katharina Ernst dedicates herself to this phenomenon of colliding time. Synthesisers and distorted kalimba are a decorative metallic plating – brandishing the textures and colours of iron, rust and bronze – upon a study of skeletal dexterity. Without melody to soften the edges of the beats, those moments of reframed understanding hit me like jolts of locomotive gear change: the snare drum changes position on the fourth track and suddenly its simplicity becomes clear, dredged up from beneath my feet, formerly concealed within a criss-cross of off-beats and amplifier gasps. And if I turn my ears to that innocuous distorted popping on the final track, the album thrusts open the doors to reveal a waltz happening in secret. Remarkably, the record can be played live as a solo composition. As a listener I’m gifted the freedom to switch my focus between each rhythm in turn, yet solo performance requires Ernst to spin all of these plates simultaneously, dividing her attention so that each limb can attend to a different time signature. It’s a truly three dimensional album; each listen presents the chance to change the angle from which I observe it, placing moments of intersection where there previously were none, revealing patterns that formerly lay dormant outside the lights of my attention. I’m excited to explore these possibilities over the coming weeks.
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