Tim Hecker – Virgins

October 14, 2013 • Kranky

Though many people claim Harmony in Ultraviolet as a high point for ambient music, I was never really a huge fan of its sound. But then, a couple years ago, when I first heard Hecker's 2011 album Ravedeath, 1972, it had an incredible effect on me which turned my opinion of Hecker around completely. I still consider it to be one of the greatest ambient albums I've ever heard. Virgins is more or less a direct sequel to Ravedeath, and it is equally as intense and beautiful and necessary to hear.

For the uninitiated, Virgins' style can be a bit hard to describe—it's an enveloping combination of layered ambient droning, glitchy electronics, tape manipulation, and some classical instrumentation like woodwinds and strings. Though each track is distinct from the rest, the album still manages to flow together in one huge soundscape—it's more of an experience than a collection of songs.

And I've heard a good handful of albums like this one (with wildly varying opinions on each), but there's something about Hecker's approach to this kind of music that leaves me stunned whenever I listen to it. Like Ravedeath, there's this sort of overbearing, plodding, beautiful sadness to the music that grabs my attention at every turn. Though the tone is mostly pretty sad, there are other times when things get incredibly tense—even a bit angry—as conflict between the soothing ambience and harsh, assonant grinding noises and drones erupts out of nowhere. Despite being an album constructed the way it is, it still feels very real and present. There's just so much happening, even during the quieter parts; but it never seems like it's too much to take in, even when the music is undoubtedly suffocating the listener. Sometimes the music sounds messy and disorganized, sometimes it's clean and concise, but it's still consistent with itself.

Also like Ravedeath, I won't say Virgins is a flawless album; there are still some slightly weaker tracks and the album is a little duller around the middle. But considering how much the album wows me on the whole, I don't really care; I just want to feel in that moment—where soft clarinets and echoing sawtooth synths and clanging noises surround me and all I can think is "why bother listening to anything else?".

9

Stream the album courtesy of NPR