In a lonely room a boy sits, slowly turning the broken knobs on an old AM radio. Between the indistinct scraps of local ball games and talk show pundits he hears the thin traces of a far off signal, these flashes of choreographed static sounding somehow purposeful through the random noises. He adjusts the dial, moves between windows, fashions an antenna from a knotted slinky coil and is rewarded for his feeble efforts. The song of distant spaces reaches his ears. A song whose waves have been stretched as it passed through the hydrogen molecules of a murky nebula and compressed as it passed near the pulse of a dying star and became a teaming choir as it gathered voices from a distant galaxy. So long a journey just to sing to one lonely boy.
Exp. 1 is the freshman composition of Amnion, pupil of Australia’s experimental maestro, Shinjuku Thief. It is a conglomerate of orchestrated pulses, hums and static that at times sounds more like the songs of stars through a radio telescope than a composed recording. It is a signal with a subtle elegance that will reward the studious listener.