Download this episode by clicking the button to the right of this player: Download
Gleb Kanasevich is a clarinetist residing in the Bronx, New York. He’s also a composer and an experimental musician who explores the Stygian depths of drone and harsh noise via bass clarinet. His CV of professional clarinet performances dates back as far as 2001 and his earliest compositions date back to 2011. It was in 2012 that Gleb published his first solo album, Refractions, which harbors a classical approach to clarinet performance. And one year later, he released its follow-up, Refractions, Vol. 2. Around this time of his second solo album, Gleb debuted a new project with Billy Pizzaro (of Flag Day Recordings), named un[KNWN] with an album titled waiting room. Though I cannot say with absolute certainty when Gleb began dabbling in bleaker tones, un[KNWN] appears to be his earliest foray into his drone endeavors.
In January 2019, Gleb transmitted two auditory experiments into the gaping cavity of space. Subtraction, a continuous 45-minute musical piece, is a tapestry Gleb weaves to delve into alternative approaches of playing the clarinet. Asleep is another solo album, however, relative to Subtraction, its sound emanates from the blackest umbrages of despondent landscapes long forgotten. It’s not wholly dismal from a tonal perspective, though. In its opening minutes, Asleep shimmers with an incandescent glow. Like the sun’s slow rise over the horizon on a biting dew-drenched morn, Gleb’s bass clarinet lethargically sprawls across the Earth’s vegetation, bearing warmth as beads of light reflect back at the azure. It’s awe-striking and indelibly sublime. And after several minutes of drone meditation are we transported into a blackened expanse that, in some respects, calls to mind the opening dark ambient-style composition heard on David Lynch’s Eraserhead, composed by Alan Splet.
Asleep teeters on noise therapy. It unlatches mental gateways that allow your imagination to run rampant. Its myriad of discordant squeaks, whirrs, and quivers, while chaotic, seep a slicing sense of pensiveness. Both Connor and I had many thoughts to hash out over this record and we hope you enjoy our discussion of it. Thank you so much for listening.
* * * * * *
If you would like access to our notes for this episode, you can peruse/download those by becoming a patron on our Patreon page. Thank you for your continued support.