In the nadir of winter, you seek some sort of solace or comfort in certain records. Something that can pair perfectly with your inner recluse and avail your cabin fever. As the polar vortex hit Chicago in late January, people were forced to stay inside or risk immediate frostbite. The limitless options within a city began to shrink. All that we had at our disposal was whatever was in our houses and apartments.
Listening to Music for Synthesizer and Drums creates a sense perception akin to Chicago’s bitter winters. It feels like a horror movie hellscape. The sonic world that becomes imagined by the listener feels claustrophobic. With each track, it is as if the world is shrinking in on you. Not in a brash, unrelenting way like when a pedestrian is walking against the wind. The synthesizers feel light and gentle. It is the equivalent to a frigid 10 degrees without a wind chill. I may feel cold and my beard may be moist and shriveling, but there isn’t the unrelenting cold bite that the wind brings.
The creator of this sonic torment is William Covert. He is the seasoned musician of Chicago bands such as: Space Blood, Droughts, and Rust Ring. Each of these bands lie somewhere between emo, post-hardcore, and math rock with their own eccentricities. I was unsure of what to expect heading into a solo instrumental record from someone I only knew as a drummer. This is due to certain preconceived notions I and others have about drummers. Usually, Covert is pounding away on the drums with an unrelenting force and breaking as many drumsticks as humanly possible. Music For Synthesizer and Drums feels like a welcomed departure from what I expect from Covert.
An instrumental record requires dynamics. By this, I mean the loud and soft interplay. An album that is only slow and methodical can put people to sleep, while a very loud and punishing output can almost feel droning and boring in its own right. All songs begin to become indistinguishable from each other in the worst possible way. Loud-Soft dynamic creates a natural tension that makes for a compelling listen. The challenge is now this: How can you create engaging instrumental music without guitar or bass?
Covert uses the synthesizers as the melodic “center.” From there, the drums are able to essentially freelance with some spastic drum hits as needed. You can look directly at a song like “Resplendent In Divergence”, in which the same riff is played on the synthesizers and slowly increases in tempo. Finally, in the last minute, Covert unleashes his onslaught of hard-hitting drumming to bring a conclusion to the five minute journey.
Music for Synthesizer and Drums feels multi-dynamic for the listener. It constantly becomes recontextualized given the new locations in which the music is heard. At first, I was only experiencing the music as it related to the claustrophobic polar vortex. Then, it slowly began to inch its way into purviews beyond my cramped apartment. It served as the soundtrack as I try to race home after work. Other times, the record was used to fill those empty spaces at work, when I needed some kind of push to make the monotony of desk work seem engaging.
There is a sense of musical catharsis one feels when Music for Synthesizer and Drums reaches its end. You feel emotionally drained. All the listener can really do is take a deep sigh. There is a feeling of emptiness coursing through your entire body. You have absolutely no desire to revisit the art right after it’s done; you just want to sit with those feelings and ruminate in them for a few minutes as you decide how you’re going to spend the rest of your night now.