ASMR U Kidding Me?! astrid hubbard flynn and aros e-v "all aflutter/soft gnaw" Album Review
Review by: Justin Spenner, Writer @bari_spen
Edited by: Andrew Perrizo, Owner/Editor @melodicnoisemedia
If you like what we are doing, please consider supporting us on Patreon, PayPal, or Venmo.
Black and white extreme close up of some kind of grass or wheat. In the upper left corner is a ritualistic symbol made of circles. Photo by SEER.
Never put astrid hubbard flynn & aros e-v in a box, unless it’s a box fan.
Since all aflutter / soft gnaw consists of just two 30-minute tracks, I decided to write my review in real time (after like 10 listens to wrap my noggin around it all). I put the wrap-up first, for you short-form readers. Or, cue the track and read along. Anywho, enjoy the poetics. What a trip!
The Wrap Up
all aflutter / soft gnaw is the latest release by Twin Cities-based ambient noise duo astrid hubbard flynn & aros e-v (Ryan Ander-Evans)- and it is a deep, deep listening experience. With just some “simple” electronics, a plethora of household items, and sparse vocals, the two-track album presents a sprawling palette of sounds that explore the vast spectrum of nothing all the way over to delicate. With a healthy dose of industrial interruption to help mimic life in the modern world, of course.
astrid and aros’s expert experimentation produces an intimate, inviting-if-unsettling spectral landscape of whirrs, breath, whispers, and implied harmony. At its best moments, it plays like sound next to sound. You know, La Croix Noise. Pro tip: this music plays well in headphones while laying in the fetal position.
This album, to me, speaks directly to the overstimulation of our daily lives. Modern society is a noise culture. Each element must compete to be heard, dealing in ever-increasing decibels. Spend one hour in true nature and our collective forced auditory processing disorder becomes blatant. all aflutter/soft gnaw allowed me to grapple with my own auditory issues. Specifically, how over-abundance of sound creates disorientating inner worlds. astrid hubbard flynn and aros e-v managed to capture that phenomenon in a most nuanced way. Twice, actually, and live to boot. I encourage y’all to listen deeply and ponder your own inner worlds, and consider that of your neighbors, while you’re at it.
Track 1: all flutter
all aflutter (capitalization is important) merges seamlessly from my real life soundtrack of muffled birds into a faint, avian chirping. An always subtle, always effective move. Nature is overthrown with an industrial hum- providing a rhythm felt more sonically than percussively. It’s a familiar, current-world sensation akin to perpetual road work. The bassy whir begins to, well, flutter, as astrid’s fingernails interact with a box fan. (a most clever and surprisingly beautiful instrument, expertly played). However, the soundscape is ever-changing; a ripple encountering ripples. From where is each sound coming? (This, I imagine, is aros e-v’s mantra.)
Suddenly, astrid’s voice appears: mermadic and pleading; beckoning and warning. But, that, too, soon is part of the fold of wave and feedback. A sense of calm emerges, embryonic.
Of course, life drags us from that peace, demonstrated by a series of rough punctuations and distortion (contact mic, meet table) - a disruptive reminder over the pulsating hum. Imagine the vibrations of when you space out on transit, assuming anyone else goes without headphones in public these days. Anywho: This? This is that sound, controlled.
That sound is soon distilled into a mid-high hum, narrowed to a pin by Aros, then to a pulsating (I’ll say it) flutter. An almost rattling cluster that summons phantom major chords, like an organ both instrumental and anatomical. It crease an energy-moving sensation. astrid croons their way between the buzz, box fan gently replacing frequency. And organ and voice duet begins, chords becoming overtones, meandering becoming melody.
All at once, we’re somewhere we haven’t been yet (ain’t that the truth?), a cold and ethereal vastness that begins to percolate (flutter). It doesn’t regulate long as a static moves in: another industrial interruption of the dream. We’re still on the bus, the muffled environment becomes invasive. The voice (us?) is now desperate, shocked in dismay at the intrusion and fighting to regain a pattern.
A melody is found. The din recedes, and the tone gentles; the voice softens. But yet, all of life these days is electricity, ongoing currents (Aros magic, again). There is a faint sigh of astrid’s anxious voice. The current is silenced. Still, always some static- always something buzzing or fluttering within or without. Then, they are finished. The room all aflutter with their sonic effort.
Track 2: soft gnaw
Machine gear oscillation fills the room, accompanied first by an opening can (presumably, Hamms), then by our friend box fan. It feels like waking up if you fall asleep in a factory breakroom. The serenity of awakening given the nervous edge of a day’s impending work. aros dissociates us from the gears with a muffled rumble, like plugging your ears underwater. Applicably, astrid’s siren call pitches forth, the inner voice prying to be heard.
The duo sprinkles in sparse moments of bird call, an image of the natural world encroaching on the factory soundscape. (Aka get some grass, whydoncha?)
The ever-presence of Mx. Box Fan gives the sensation of a center: it is meditative, rhythmically hypnotic, and turned melodic through clever manipulation. It’s an object to consider as the nervous system settles into whatever world astrid and aros are showing us.
A return to the underwater murmur gives the feeling of going through routine in a daze. Oddly centering and disconnected. The subdued rumbling turns into an almost club beat; relentless and movement-inducing. This odd description is given weight by the following synth-like chord punctuations- a harmonic remnant of some night long past. Of course, (have you been paying attention?) the duo returns to the mechanical drone of noise and fan engine. I’m telling you, every time I listen to this track, I think about breaking free of capitalist monotony. Does that make sense?
At 20 minutes in, after deftly stretching the soundscape, astrid’s voice cues a final, extended thought. Overtone vibrations create celestial chords; a serene release. Whoever was next the recorder sure agrees: their easeful sigh at this moment was a welcome sonic surprise. As the harmony slows into molasses, an electrode-column drone draws us straight into the ol’ root chakra. All sounds now become one sound (of all sounds). We are home; we are safe, sound and warm.
But, home still houses machinery. When you live in the city, how transient is the peace of nature? Subtle, homely noises (click-clacks, taps, hums, and breezes) suddenly turn into an abrasive pounding. Brought back in the mix, it turns into a passing cargo train. Once passed, its absence finally restores a near-silence, save a welcome electric hum.
A single breath blows out a candle. The day is done; time to sleep. Finally, the ears are empty.
No word on when to catch astrid hubbard flynn & aros e-v live, but the best bet is to keep your eye on the Resource event calendar. Give Bumpy Label a gander, too! Their catalogue is the only algorithm you need.
Listen on Bandcamp | astrid hubbard flynn: Insta/Bandcamp | aros e-v: Bandcamp/Website
