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tracks
1. 05:57 (6.8 MB)
2. 01:43
3. 28:43
4. 07:52
5. 04:45
49 minutes
reviews
"Matt Clark and Jeremy Lemos come up with seemingly endless variations on guitar drone as White/Light--and though the band's name was inspired by the Velvets' feedback-drenched White Light/White Heat, they also claim as influences Earth 2, Fripp and Eno, and the guitar solo on the title track from Maggot Brain. The drifting, ambient pieces on the duo's self-titled debut on Rebis Records are at once graceful and harrowing, and while they don't adhere to conventional song forms they do develop according to a certain logic. Clark and Lemos layer low-end rumbles, high-frequency sine waves, and lacerating bursts into constellations of sound that reward close listening, and even though the tone of each piece is essentially fixed, the two constantly rejigger details to keep the record full of surprises. On the brief '01:43' an organlike tone oscillates in and out, sounding like a spinning coin coming to rest, while the epic '28:43' is filled with ominous, billowy hums and sharp slashing gestures that slowly grow denser and more claustrophobic. The music has an almost orchestral depth, awash in the sort of resonant glow that comes from a love of sound for its own sake."
--Peter Margasak, Chicago Reader, November 2005
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"White/Light is the Velvets-fixated duo of Matt Clark and Jeremy Lemos, who both have roots in the contemporary underground. Clark played in Chicago’s Joan of Arc, while Lemos has associations with Sonic Youth and Jim O’Rourke through his soundboard work. Together the pair work huge cylinders of melodic drone into repeat cycles as evocatively wired as 'Krautrock'-era Faust, only to shackle them to great monolithic riffs borne of the classic Melvins/Earth tradition. '28:43' is the album’s centerpiece, with slow, cast iron riffs bleeding rust and shortwave flutter in a way that best approximates the feel of wearing iron boots in zero gravity. The closing track, '04:45', is a spit for the candyfloss and comedown feel of Sonic Boom’s tracks on Spacemen 3’s Playing With Fire album."
--David Keenan, The Wire
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"Deep-drone CD rule of thumb: always check out the 28 minute track. That's the key jam on Chicago duo White/Light's self-titled debut, anyway, the third track "28:43," in which a very overloaded bass and guitar combine to break off a piece of that CHUNKY low-end stuff for SunnO))) lengths, but, unlike a SunnO))) jam that seems to appear as a fully-formed monolith, this one has a journeying quality to it, where you can really hear the duo starting out humbly, finding their way and experimenting, and eventually casting a warm soft and steady light on the black monolith until you realize that it's been towering over you all along ... Another strong early step from the Rebis label."
--Blastitude #19
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"From time to time a friend of mine confronts me with what he calls the limitations of the drone scene and the fact that everything sounds the same. It goes without saying that he’s way off base on this one but as to illustrate this I think I’ll play him White/Light the next time he’s around, because I don’t think I’ve heard as many drone styles present on a single recording in quite some time. The opening '05:57' displays darkly contemplative drone webs while '01:43' is almost inaudible if you don’t turn it up loud. '28:43' is a minimal tone excursion that kicks off with high-end frequencies and sustained drones that slowly shift and eventually build into a storm of sound whistling through a narrow tunnel of claustrophobic beauty. Other tracks maintain the magically resonating damaged soundscapery but at the same time pirouettes into something a whole lot more minimal and surprisingly organic. The last track even has a distant folk feel to it, which comes as a big surprise given the rest of the album. Despite the fact that White/Light covers such a wide range of drone terrain the duo manages to nicely hold things together. It’s a challenging but also very rewarding listening excursion these Chicago residents invite us to attend."
-Mats Gustafson, Broken Face, July 2005
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This band's name sums up their approach to making music - a blinding white pulse that moves with the flow of the ocean, between varying degrees of quiet and loud. Jeremy Lemos and Matt Clark are sound dudes by trade, part of the vibrant Chicago scene, name-checking Jim O'Rourke, Kevin Drumm and Town And Country in the liners here, a reflection of their open approach to sounds. These five untitled tracks are built around a 28-minute centrepiece opus, the whole an amalgam of computer and guitar drones, piercing processed pops and creeping keyboards. Listen very closely please.
-Steve Guimond, Hour, January 2006
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