In "a not particularly rapid disentanglement", Vertonen (aka Blake Edwards) invites listeners on a journey through glitchy tapestries of sonic artifacts, fashioned from aging microcassette players, fragile radios, and the quirks of analog machinery. For an album rooted in the faltering infrastructure of outdated technology, the work surprisingly pulses with vitality, oscillating between discord and discovery. It’s a 20-minute suite, recorded as if dusted off from another era, yet brimming with a timeless, unpolished edge.
What’s curious is that this ne-track album doesn’t rush to conclusions. Rather, it is content to unravel, much like the tangles of wires that likely comprise Vertonen’s recording setup. One can sense Edwards' fascination with the entropy of sound: the delicate click of a decaying tape, the strained whirr of malfunctioning machinery, or the cryptic blips of fading radio frequencies, each element asserting its own sonic autonomy. Reviews point out that this rawness is intentional, making "Disentanglement" a kind of living artifact, celebrating decay as an aesthetic—where imperfection isn’t an error, but the point of entry .
In his 2020 interview, Edwards discusses his love for “extracting possibility” from flawed sources, and this album showcases that passion in real time. It’s less a linear listening experience and more of a séance with sound, conjuring the ghosts of obsolete technologies as they speak to one another in a language of crackles, whines, and hums. At times, it’s as if each layer is trying to disentangle itself, only to draw us deeper into a mesmerizing loop of sonic paradox. "A not particularly rapid disentanglement" is the soundtrack for those curious enough to find beauty in brokenness, a testament to the allure of what remains just slightly out of reach.
For more insight into Edwards' methods, have a check to the interview I mentioned on No Part Of It blogspot space: https://nopartofit.blogspot.com/2020/07/interview-series-17-blake-edwards.html