“有力，新鲜，明智的出品，强力推荐！”（意大利乐评人 Massimo Ricci）。
Dajuin Yao, Li Jianhong and Yan Jun, all born under Pisces. live recording of their collaboration at 2pi festival in Hangzhou, November 2004.
electroacoustic, hardware noise, acoustic instruments, voice and language…
设计 | design：冯昊 | Feng Hao
曲目 | track list：
1，二皮音乐节现场 43’45 | Live At 2PI Festival
Dajuin Yao: laptop, voice sample; Li Jianhong: tape recorder, laptop, pedals; Yan Jun: singing bowl, tuning fork, i-Pod, MD, CD, voice, voice sample
review by Massimo Ricci
Quoting from the CD sleeve, “2pi festival is an annual noise/sound art festival curated and produced by Li Jianhong and 2pi Records in Hangzhou since 2004”. Consisting in a single track of almost 44 minutes, this disc features the talents of Dajuin Yao (laptop), Li Jianhong (tape recorder, laptop, effector), Yan Jun (singing bowls, sound forks, iPod, MD, CD, voice). Starting with environmental sounds, the piece is soon launched into a boiling quagmire of acousmatic inquietude where water, deformed utterances, wind and electronic treatments (not that I’m so sure about the sources…) weight the same in a pretty unusual setting that raises the oppression level to an instant peak. In a highly variegated background, we perceive voices and frequencies seemingly crossing shortwave radio, subsonic tests and marine rage, the music reaching repeated climaxes in the space of a few minutes; a sample of didjeridoo – courtesy of Maghiel Van Crevel – is opposed to overacute emissions that do their best to sting our membranes, until we feel like undergoing a brain defragmentation through sheer structural abstraction. One of the most intense sections, about 17 minutes into the piece, pairs looped Tuvan throat singing with dramatic gasps, giving the impression of the last efforts and thoughts crossing the mind of a drowning person, then out of the blue a telephone rings and a munchkin voice enters the scene amidst additional noise and buzz. A French poem is recited by male and female voices amidst harsh drones recalling a high tension station, a deep hum remaining on site for several minutes; then it all cuts to a miniaturized reproduction of metaphysically mangled traditional Chinese music. A heavily snoozing man is surrounded by thuds and bumps of any possible kind, then we’re introduced to a chorale of cicadas while the mess goes on and on. Sounds of trains. Hypnotic gazing at nowhere. Post-traumatic stillness. Vehicles. Droplets. Ever-present whirr. Only tentative descriptions of the innumerable scenes that characterize this effective, fresh-sounding, certainly intelligent release that I strongly advise to look for despite its rarity.