Time passes quickly, and memories all but disappear. Some of the most intimate moments are shuffled aside, later sometimes discovered again only by accident. Merkin, possibly one of the most personal albums that we ever made, for one reason or another, never came to an official release. It was recorded in 2007-2008 in Las Vegas and California, and later mastered by John Twells. For about a year after it was sent and given to friends and labels. By 2012, nearly 5 years had passed since it’s creation, Danielle had been gone for almost 3 years, and the album had passed through 3 different labels, in the end all dropping it for reasons such as “I like this other album better”, “it won’t fit on an LP”, “it’s too good to be released on a cassette”, and “we prefer an album that sounds like Engaged Touches“. In addition, an unmastered version appeared on many blogs and file sharing sites, which increasingly damaged any chances of it appearing.

So, after 5 years, the official version of Merkin will be available. Someday a CD will be pressed, but for now, it is better that it exists and can be enjoyed as it is. It is an important part of the history of Celer, and sadly one of the most colorful, yet overlooked records. Just because labels don’t want to release something, doesn’t mean it isn’t important.

- Will Long, Tokyo, May 2012

Merkin

(In 15 Indeterminate Parts)

Immutable Philanthropy / Limpid Sets of Tide / Soporific Sense of Self /
Pubic Wig / Stagnant Swimming Equilibrium / Its Shiny Kith / Saddle
Sore / Natural Translucence / Autistic Premonitions / The Fugue of the
Purple Reef / Dormant Couture of Winter / Dissociative Identity of Each of
its Pages / Frozen Rocking Chairs / The Delicate Omphalos of a Naked
Apron / Antediluvian Shapes of Molded Ribs

Recorded in California and Las Vegas, 2007-2008

Danielle Baquet-Long – Cello, Violin, Piano, Contact Microphones, Latex,
Titles, Processing
Will Long – Mixing Board, Piano, Processing
Cover Photography by Peter Lograsso, Mastered by John Twells

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The collaboration seems to have benefited both artists.  As two of the scene’s most prolific producers, their output has at times seemed overwhelming; the presence of a counterpart allows each to stretch boundaries and consider previously unimagined sonic twists.  As previously reported, Celer has developed a slightly more abrasive edge, evident in Bliksem‘s final minutes and apparent here at the 2:18 mark of “Numa”.  The rising drone and crunchy electronics enrich the short composition – a distillation of a longer work – by providing welcome contrast and an element of danger.  Like the cover art, this piece is a collage, and its strongest part is its promontory.  As the piece returns to its ambient base, the listener remembers where it has wandered.  The footstep hints of the fourth minute fall like mud dragged from the song’s center.  ”Penarie” introduces the interruption earlier at approximately 1:23, dissolving into near-silence before floating down the river like the couple on the cover.  A very slight ticking climax (beginning at 4:00) yields to soft electronic ripples and brings the timbre back to where it began: a cycle completed in only ten minutes.

Numa / Penarie is described as the second part of a series, which means that more should be on the way; both artists are on the right track, and after three more 7″s, we should have a very nice album.

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Long is now home, and thankfully his experience was a positive one.  I’d be curious to hear a Bliksem II, a counterpart that incorporated the emotions of his time abroad.  The piece is perfectly set up for a sequel, as it bursts into life in the final five minutes.  Until then, it’s meditative, soothing, and benign, a series of electronic loops reminiscent of the ocean waters as viewed from the safety of a plane.  But in its closing sixth, Bliksem is visited by static bursts and a busyness we last heard on Celer’s 7″ collaboration with Machinefabriek – confirmation that the lines between artists were blurred on that release.  In these moments, Bliksem becomes more lightning than cloud.  These increasing hints of a new direction are encouraging.  It’s as if Long is beginning to emerge from extended sadness to tentative aggression; as if the cloud is trying to keep the lightning in check, but failing.  At the end, the static rises sharply, shoots over to the left speaker, then dissipates: easily one of the most effective Celer moments to date.

The shift in conversation from pattern and texture to moment and sound is a welcome development; we look forward to hearing more Celer music in this vein.

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Available here: http://machinefabriek.bandcamp.com/album/greetings-from-celer-machinefabriek