Fleeting visions into sleep

Spectrical

PER001

14 July 2023

Limited edition cassette / digital

For the very first Perceptual Tapes release, Spectrical presents a dreamlike journey through processed-piano soundscapes, lo-fi drones and glitched loops.

"Some of my earliest childhood memories are of falling asleep while listening to my Dad playing the piano, in the music room across the hallway, with his playing softly coming through the walls. I didn't know the name of it at the time, but my favourite piece he'd play was Visions fugitives Op. 22 No. 8 Commodo by Sergei Prokofiev.

In 2009 I asked my Dad to play a slow rendition of the piece for me to record, with the intent of manipulating the recording to create a series of experimental ambient pieces; a musical reimagining of those childhood memories and the dreams I might have had.

'Fleeting visions into sleep' is the result of this project, beginning with the recording of my Dad's performance of the Prokofiev piece, which the subsequent ambient compositions use as the sole source material, with the exception of a couple of field recordings.

Dedicated to Dad."

- Spectrical

Credits

Visions fugitives Op. 22 No. 8 Commodo by Sergei Prokofiev

Piano performed by Richard Allen

Audio recording, processing and arrangement by Timothy Allen a.k.a Spectrical

Cover painting by Elise Wilson

© 2023 Spectrical

Reviews

Perceptual Tapes is a new label out of Tasmania, that focuses on releasing ambient, drone, and experimental music on tape, and their first offering, released in July of this year, is a study in the way reality shapes our dreams, figurative or literal, and the spark of life, passed on from one generation to the next. Timothy Allen, aka Spectrical, remembers falling asleep as a child to his father playing piano in the other room, a sweet send off to dream land that perhaps some of us remember ourselves. One of his favorite pieces that his father played was Prokofiev’s Visions fugitives Op. 22 No. 8 Commodo, a short emotional piece of classical music, that left an indelible mark on his psyche and his soul. 

Sampling a recording of his father, Richard Allen, playing the piece, (which he opens the album with,) he uses the latest technology, to turn it into ethereal drones and experimental music that make up the bulk of the album. Through modern technology, he’s able to manipulate the notes that his father played, (everything that you hear on the album, except for some field recordings, comes from the sampled classical piece,) and it is a beautiful metaphor for what the father passes onto the son. 

The first track starts with his father playing the Prokofiev piece, but the remaining 17 or so minutes of the track captures the transition into the dream world. We can’t fly in real life, but sometimes we do in our dreams. It’s a wonder, the harmonic flavor of the drone music, and captures as well the nebulous feeling of the dream world. The second track, “Adrift,” uses field recordings of waves, and doubles as something that you could listen to just before you go to bed. In fact, the whole album is a good send off to dream world, if you wanted to listen to it that way.

In the remaining tracks, the piano is sampled more clearly, though from a more experimental bent, and here is where son continues father’s legacy and we see how life grows and evolves from one generation to the next. It’s fitting that it is in “dream world” that the new creation finds its genesis and growth. The album (dedicated to his father) is really a deep commentary on the expansive nature of love and life, generational evolution, and the power of our childhood memories and the way that dreams inform our reality.

It is likely that those nights as a child, listening to his dad play piano music, led to a life long passion with music, that he now passes onto other people. We all have our formative memories, and this is one of Allen’s: a fitting tribute to his family and the power of music to move us. Where some capture that feeling in sentimental lyrics and verse, chorus, bridge songs, Allen uses his computer equipment to offer a more abstract offering that is “Illucid” or like “Distant Rain.” It’s a beautiful offering and whets the appetite to hear more from this interesting new label’s direction.

Gregory Walker

Prism Reviews