Concessions (for my father) (2020)
Four compositions. Electroacoustic, tape album
Released through precarioustexts.com
Four compositions. Electroacoustic, tape album
Released through precarioustexts.com
“SOME SONGS ON THIS ALBUM WERE WRITTEN WHEN MY FATHER WAS RECEIVING TREATMENT FOR CANCER AND MY FAMILY WERE FACING THE PROSPECT OF EVICTION FROM THEIR HOME; OTHERS VIA FRUSTRATED SYNTH EXPATIATIONS WITHIN NEO-LIBERAL ISOLATION AND SCARCITY; OR THROUGH THICK RITUALISED PROCESSES IN PAINFUL REFLECTIONS ON THE FRAGMENTATIONS OF POOR AND DISLOCATED SELFHOOD VECTORS; OR VIA NEVER ENDING FISCAL ASSAULTS; THE BODILY, NERVE-ENDING AND VOCAL CAPITALIST-EXTRACTIONS: SUBSUMING NEO-LIBERAL FEEDBACK. IN THESE WORKS, I CHANNEL THE ANGER, MALAISE AND TOXIC PSYCHOLOGICAL/PHYSIOLOGICAL RESIDUES AND DAMAGES THIS SYSTEM HAS WROUGHT ON WORKING AND UNDERCLASS BODIES (INCLUDING MY OWN); THE ATTENDANT NEUROSIS, AND MENTAL ILLNESS WE NAVIGATE AS A RESULT OF THE HARSH AND HIERARCHICAL ASPECTS OF THE SOCIAL TERRAIN. THIS LP, CONCESSIONS, IS ALSO THE NEAR LAST EXPUNGES OF IRISH-CATHOLIC RESIDUE, TRANSMUTED THROUGH THE SHAKY, UNSTABLE NOISE OF TAPE RECORDED ON A SMALL TAPE-RECORDER THAT MY DAD PICKED UP FROM A SYDNEY TAFE (WHERE HE WORKED AS A CLEANER BEFORE HE GOT SICK); I AM REMINDED FROM THIS THAT MY PRECARITY IS HIS PRECARITY, IS MY MOTHER'S PRECARITY, IS MY COMMUNITIES' PRECARITY - REMINDS ME OF HOW MY PRECARITY IS NO WHERE NEAR THE PRECARITY OF THE INTERNATIONAL PRECARIAT IN LOTS OF COUNTRIES TRAPPED IN LIMITLESS LABOURS, IN COUNTLESS FACTORIES, FORGOTTEN.”
Review: Jack Davidson (Noise-not-Music):
"I first want to acknowledge that Concessions (for my father), James Hazel’s new release, made me aware of a new imprint/project called Precarious Texts, which pledges to become “a space that re-turns [sic] to and re-emphasises “class” as part of the intersectional prism and supports practices within these spaces.” In a time where socioeconomic stratification is more ingrained than ever, there can never be too much acknowledgement of the reality in which we reside. Hazel concedes that while making Concessions he was “located in relatively stable space/time” in objective terms; instead, the qualifying precarity in his life is an emotional one, an empathic one, formed by the deep connection Hazel feels to his immediate family, his ancestors, and the countless marginalized workers that have fought the same battles long before him. The exhaustion and defeat, the enshrouding malaise, the tiny beaten and battered beams of hope of the oppressed existence are translated to sound through minimal groupings of sources and an old tape recorder. Hazel’s frail transmissions hang in the dusty air with aching grace, slowly dissipating into blankets of soft whispers and woozy warbling. This album is a masterclass in evoking emotional weight via entirely abstract means. I was brought to tears several times by the volatile feedback currents in “Sensual Objects”—it’s one thing to absorb the sadness from an affecting lyric or somber melody, but it’s entirely another to feel unnameable emotions well up from the depths of yourself when witnessing something whose sorrowful beauty you can’t even describe."
noisenotmusic.com/2020/06/15/review-james-hazel-concessions-for-my-father-precarious-texts-jun-9/
Review: Jack Davidson (Noise-not-Music):
"I first want to acknowledge that Concessions (for my father), James Hazel’s new release, made me aware of a new imprint/project called Precarious Texts, which pledges to become “a space that re-turns [sic] to and re-emphasises “class” as part of the intersectional prism and supports practices within these spaces.” In a time where socioeconomic stratification is more ingrained than ever, there can never be too much acknowledgement of the reality in which we reside. Hazel concedes that while making Concessions he was “located in relatively stable space/time” in objective terms; instead, the qualifying precarity in his life is an emotional one, an empathic one, formed by the deep connection Hazel feels to his immediate family, his ancestors, and the countless marginalized workers that have fought the same battles long before him. The exhaustion and defeat, the enshrouding malaise, the tiny beaten and battered beams of hope of the oppressed existence are translated to sound through minimal groupings of sources and an old tape recorder. Hazel’s frail transmissions hang in the dusty air with aching grace, slowly dissipating into blankets of soft whispers and woozy warbling. This album is a masterclass in evoking emotional weight via entirely abstract means. I was brought to tears several times by the volatile feedback currents in “Sensual Objects”—it’s one thing to absorb the sadness from an affecting lyric or somber melody, but it’s entirely another to feel unnameable emotions well up from the depths of yourself when witnessing something whose sorrowful beauty you can’t even describe."
noisenotmusic.com/2020/06/15/review-james-hazel-concessions-for-my-father-precarious-texts-jun-9/