Matt Davignon-Pink Earth; Ribosome Music, 2016

 

A few days ago a friend that lives in Oakland sent me the lineup for the 2024 Skronkathon, a venerable tradition amongst a certain set of the wider SF Bay Area Improvised Music scene. A lot of familiar names stuck out of that list, and Disaster Amnesiac smiled at seeing them. One absent name however was that of Matt Davignon. Matt has been involved in music production, along with live music promotion, for many years now. As I recall it, his main tools for the former are older drum machines, tweaked and processed in order to get sounds that fall well afield from the timbres that are generally expected from them. My copy of Davignon's 2016 Pink Earth has been floating near the top of the listening pile and has indeed made it into the player of late so a few words seem in order. A release consisting of five tracks, Pink Earth has often felt to me to be some kind of aural travelogue to a region that, while existing primarily within Matt's imagination, can be visited by anyone that spends time paying attention to its sounds as presented on the disc. Sounds coaxed from whichever machines that were utilized are by turns percussive, droning and drone-ey, colored ambient, and even melodic on occasion. There sound to me to be four-seven or so primary sources whose tones are given the necessary treatments for variation within these unique worlds, and variations occur within enough regularity as to provide for much interest and intrigue as they emerge within their matrix of origin. Along with hearing strange naturalistic landscapes quite similar to the visions presented by primary cover artist Brian Lucas, Disaster Amnesiac also hears and sees unique cybernetic vistas reminiscent of the burnt circuits of Louis and Bebe Barron. Both types of places will appear within the mind of the astute and patient listener, and they are both truly worthy of repeated hearing. Patience is rewarded by Pink Earth. If one can still their mind as the album plays, one can hear many beautiful events, unfolding repeatedly over its close to one hour duration. It's hoped that Matt Davignon continues with his singular musical evolution. Pink Earth has evolved exceedingly well over time. Perhaps a ten year anniversary vinyl edition is in order? That cover art would look pretty great within that format, and the sounds would surely bear new revelations from an analog perspective.