Evan A. James’ self-titled cassette is economical. It is economical in that it induces rich image through sound. We feel as though Mr. James is sharing snapshots of an abandoned hotel. He may have discovered the snapshots while panning for fake pearls. Dusting off the surface, he realizes their remarkable beauty. He arranges them to emphasize their luster, even though they’ve plainly dulled.
There are no snapshots of the majestic lobby, only pictures of its offspring, the unkempt rooms. Transients haunted the rooms; rooms that are now filled with their floating sounds, sounds on photographs, romantic and weary.
Perhaps, in “Gallery Waltz,” the photographer frames a picture of a well-worn couple, mechanically starting and stopping their intimacies in the oblivion of a nondescript room. In “Sunrise,” perhaps, an agoraphobe, in apprehensive awe, watches the day transpire through a silted-up window pane. In “Chord,” a family member leans in closer to hear the bubble-mouthed telekinetic’s last gurgles, indecipherable over the medical drones. Perhaps.
• Evan A. James: https://soundcloud.com/nave-semaj
• Adhesive Sounds: www.adhesive-sounds.com
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