Parashi – Pilot’s Salt
Through his involvement with Burnt Hills and oversight of Skell Records – among a number of other activities – Mike Griffin has been at the helm of some of the most intoxicatingly morbid and alluringly fractured sounds for some time now. Perhaps the most intriguing and addicting of these disparate efforts is Parashi, Griffin’s solo effort. Specializing in nihilistic but uplifting sonic documents, Parashi’s work had appeared on some of the most revered imprints around, from SicSic and Stunned to 905, Tape Drift, and several outsider greats in between. Pilot’s Salt, Parashi’s latest work, is a sprawling effort of glorious dismay and intense focus that brings with it the bonus of being the project’s first vinyl release. Split into four tracks (three long, one brief) the LP is a dizzying foray into calmly improvised anxiety. There is nowhere to hide. Retreating to an unknown corridor or behind a false wall only heightens the dread. Everything is decimated until there’s no safe harbor. Opener “Recombinant Field” sets the scene with 10-minutes of soldering, post-industrial drones and heaving, creaking degradation. Grit and oil cover every visible surface, illuminated only by occasional and seemingly random striations of light that fill the room. “Sufis on the Causeway” churns out its oscillating melody like a fritzed and malfunctioning machine. Over time, oddly-angled harmonies and hulking gears play their tuneful symphony with intimacy and harmful intent. The title track is by far the briefest here but uses its blitzed duration to beam in calculated blasts of static and distortion. Crackling frequencies overtake each other in a pre-meditated assault of refined blips and errant noises. Closing tune “Pulverized Concrete on the Rim of a Coffee Cup” is the brightest of the set hosting an uplifting tone shrouded in quietly ferocious tones. Overall, it’s a ravishing debut on vinyl for Griffin’s long-rewarding project. Pick up a copy of Pilot’s Salt directly via Retrograde Tapes’ site.