The problem with a lot of noise records is that they sound like they were created within the airless cavity of a computer hard drive. Even proudly “analogue” recordings have a tendency to sound like someone plugged all their inputs into their outputs and fed the results straight into ProTools. Sometimes this approach works, but more often than not what’s missing is that physical dimension that comes from actual instruments being played in a room, with all the wonderful reverberations and splashback that such an approach entails.

Sydney duo Moonmilk appears to be consciously attempting to circumnavigate such concerns on The Winter Sun Has Teeth. There’s a tangible sense of space to the two epic tracks here (‘Air Fish’ clocks in at 17 minutes while the title track spreads itself out over a languid 25), suggesting that the pair have eschewed DIs and instead done things the old fashioned way: by miking up their amps. Thus, their layers and layers of heavily-processed keyboard tones (and, in the case of ‘Air Fish’, singing saw) take on an authentic three-dimensional quality: the sounds have room to breathe, to move, to weave in and out of one another like wispy tendrils of smoke. Notes collide with one another, splintering off in new directions. It is by nature imperfect – this could be the unedited result of a single take. But it doesn’t matter if it is or isn’t. Moonmilk’s is a densely satisfying drift, one for high volumes and/or for big, plush headphones.

The other problem with a lot of noise records, though, is that they have a very limited range of appeal. While anybody with a predilection towards this kind of thing is highly likely to appreciate Moonmilk’s shimmering plateaus of ambient drone, it’s hard to envision your average Eddy Current Suppression Ring fan sitting through this in its entirely. Preaching to the converted? Perhaps. But this is a gospel worth seeking out.

by Adam D Mills