(Monsieur Délire) This one is hitting me where it hurts - so to speak. You see, Roger H Smith (aka Chefkirk) is working the no-input mixing board a lot like I do. Four 10-minute pieces of experimentation with the feedback possibilities opened by a mixer with nothing plugged in but itself. Relatively sedate music, well controlled (I tend to get wilder on this instrument). - François Couture
(Touching Extremes) We’re all acquainted with how a no-input mixing board works, aren’t we? Since the early age of David Myers (aka Arcane Device) until Toshimaru Nakamura’s brilliantly subtractive business, the pluralities of ever-changing shapes, abysmal droning purrs and barely contained feedback spurts have gained a more or less official existence in our listening habits. Add to the short list of practitioners of this art the name of Roger H. Smith, who in We Must Leave The Warren presents four pieces of manipulated frequencies (two of the tracks are augmented by the use of a sampler). Nothing truly hot gets added to the familiar recipe, but what Chefkirk does is absolutely on average with the conduct of his acknowledged fellow moulders. The alternance of stabilized whirr (slowly growing in thickness and quivering, but immobile just the same) and convulsive zaps amidst aleatory sequences is utterly assimilable – and at times very beautiful to hear – throughout the 51 minutes of this disc, which needs to be played loud in order to extract its finest scents. - Massimo Ricci
(Sound Projector) Chefkirk is the American Roger H Smith, whose insane electronic music I first heard in 2003 with the release of 38-40cm. On We Must Leave The Warren (EH?57) he’s working mostly with a no-input mixing board and a sampler on these home-produced recordings from 2010 and 2011. He seems mainly concerned with the generation of deep electronic sighs and yawns, which fill the space of the warehouse where he’s currently building his 30-foot tall mechanical man. You may find yourself growing impatient at the apparent lack of development in these minimal sub-bass droners, but the single-mindedness of his mental trajectory has a certain grim appeal. I seem to recall his music being somewhat more agitated than the languid and unhurried tones on offer here, where each track takes about 11 or 12 minutes to traverse the metal-tiled floor rolling along on small mechanised wheels like a tiny vacuum cleaner. But check out Chefkirk’s back catalogue and I’m sure you’ll find instances of livelier digital mayhem; he’s a prolific guy. - Ed Pinsent
(Kathodik) Bel tipetto prolifico, l'americano Roger H Smith (Chefkirk). Maggiormente agitato, in precedenti occasioni, con “We Must Leave The Warren” ci rilassa (quasi piacevolmente), lungo cinquanta minuti di produzione casalinga, per no-input mixing board (con l'aggiunta di un sampler, in un paio di episodi). Largo dunque, a frequenti scricchiolamenti di segnale (soprattutto nel primo movimento), che inducono ad attenzione estrema (preservar l'impianto audio, è un bene...), per poi, tutto sommato, acquietarsi in un reticolato di statici ronzii, drones inquietanti, scartavetramenti d'alluminio in lontananza e sub subbissimi. Che, ad un ascolto a volume elevato, non squarcian nessun velo, ma offrono minimali, tremolanti percezioni alterate, invero niente male (l'ultimo, opprimente episodio). Se ne esce saturi, con le pareti interne rimbiancate di fresco, e nessuna voglia d'altro, almeno per qualche ora. Barcollando nel silenzio, si aprirà il frigo, rimanendo immersi nella sua fioca luce. Un minuto, un altro ancora. Polvere in sospensione. E qualche dado per il brodo, ad osservarci dallo scomparto sportello. - Marco Carcasi
