Intentionally obtuse, occasionally interesting

Most experimental fans would be loathed to admit it, but they like how inaccessible the genre is. Whether that’s because they see the barrier of entry as a shield deflecting dull pop sensitivities, or simply because they feel it gives them clout as music lovers to have multiple <1000 Spotify-listen artists in their favorite playlist, varies from person to person but make no mistake, they love it. Yet the inaccessibility is a double-edged sword, as much as it keeps certain undesirable elements out of the music, it also corrals some of them in. On Sunspots, Jeff Snyder falls into the trappings of some of the most obnoxious components of experimental music, while still managing to pull together enough unique elements that it saves the record from complete waste.

The first thing one will notice upon pulling this album open will be the absurd run times on each track. Not a single track comes in below eighteen minutes, which already slates the majority of the record as foreboding and intimidating rather than inviting or engaging. Long run times have always been a staple of more left-field music, but in this case, it comes across as being obtuse just for the sake of it.

“Sunspots IV,” the opening track, begins with a series of electronic plops that seem to have no rhyme or reason as to when they will appear and how they relate to each other. If its a deconstruction of rhythm it fails by having none in the first place, and conversely it never builds into a rhythm or a particularly interesting pattern in the same way that many artists like M.E.S.H. or The Orb would play with. Luckily, despite the generally unexciting pattern of sound, the sounds themselves are unique and engaging. At about four and a half minutes, the track shifts into electronic wobbles, similar to a record scratch ran through a static filter, and the other backing noises seem to be pulled directly from an Amnesia Scanner track. Sadly it’s not quite enough to save the track entirely, as it quickly shifts into a new idea that would have been better served as a new song instead of a new section on the same.

“Sunspots VIII” is the lone standout on the record. It’s noisy and unpredictable in a way that is far more enjoyable than the intentionally frustrating lack of musicality on the previous tracks. The middle section absolutely rips, sounding like bits of a heavily stripped down Blanck Mass paired with something like Haxan Cloak. Unfortunately, it is followed by the album closer “Sunspots IX,” which is little more than a glorified static drone over eighteen minutes. There’s something to be gathered from the record, clearly it aims for some deeper meaning or at least aims to fiddle with music in new and interesting ways, but sadly it falls flat on nearly all accounts.

Being difficult to listen to is fine. Merzbow and Whitehouse are acclaimed for a reason, and on a different side of the spectrum, more modern artists like Arca, Iglooghost and James Blake have taken elements of experimental and woven them into more palatable music in truly exciting ways. Sunspots is little more than puffery of a misinterpretation of a storied genre. It’s a collection of board noodling that has all the substance of a Dragonforce album. Is it technically proficient? Undeniably. Is it interesting? Rarely, if at all. There are ideas here that are exciting, but this feels more like an experimentation session rather than a finished album. Perhaps even some experimental fans could stand for this record to be just a little bit more accessible.