Mojo (UK):

Paris Transatlantic (France):

He is mostly unsung and not overly prolific – his previous Iris dates from 2004 – but Rosy Parlane is one of the kingpins of slowly uncoiling, constantly changing drone music whose purposefulness is directly proportional to its smothering beauty. Divided into three movements, Jessamine was composed between 2004 and 2006, and features important contributions on the guitar front from Tetuzi Akiyama, Lasse Marhaug, Anthony Guerra, Michael Morley, Donald McPherson, Matthew Hyland, David Mitchell, Stefan Neville and Campbell Kneale. In addition, Marcel Bear designed and built "amplified sawblade" and "shimsaws" (and also plays the latter in the first section). Parlane recorded the tracks using a plethora of electric and acoustic instruments, bowed metals, radio, computer and field recordings, masterfully assembling and layering his sounds to create textures that range from organic to post-nuclear. After the leaden quasi-consonant sky evoked by the dirty electric mantra that is "Part One", listening to "Part Two" made me think of a fenced-off radioactive area attacked by sonorous weapons of destruction which we're forced to watch in awe. Especially here and in the third movement, whose apex is a monstrous, hypnotizing wall of distorted guitars, Parlane shows his ability to create mind-numbing atmospheres without resorting to fancy tricks; a consistent framing "tonality" is established, but it's what happens inside the frames that counts – and that includes extraneous noise, electrostatics, subtle deviations. Overall, the album's most alluring feature is its sense of imminence, of waiting for an event that might or might not happen. During this uneasy anticipation of what's still to come, various paths to possible harmonic wholeness are glimpsed; the onus of foreseeing and understanding the right ones falls on us. It took more than two years, but Jessamine was well worth the wait. [Massimo Ricci]

London Milk (UK, blog):

After a spell in experimental rock outfits Thela and Parmentier, New Zealand-born Rosy Parlane established himself as a sound artist with a series of releases for Sigma Editions and Synaesthesia. He has also collaborated with artists such as Fennesz, AMM founder Eddie Prevost and avant-garde musician Mattin. In 2004, Parlane joined the ranks of influential UK label Touch and released the magnificent Iris.

Following a similar template to the one applied to Iris, Jessamine is articulated around three distinct tracks clocking at over thirteen, sixteen and nineteen minutes respectively. Like its predecessor, this album is a fascinating journey through dense soundscapes built around a multitude of instruments (guitars, piano, melodica, violin, drums), various objects (sawblade, radio, computer, bowed metal) and field recordings, all blended into thick and complex drone-like atmospheric formations which continuously change texture, tone and feel as new layers are applied. Although intrinsically monotone and austere, Parlane’s creations are extremely detailed, rich and evocative. Melodies may be almost entirely inexistent as such, yet there is undeniable musicality throughout, giving Jessamine a surprisingly pastoral and light appearance.

The album opens with shimmering noises layered over a scarce backdrop, but the piece becomes more vibrant as Parlane applies delicate touches. It takes a while for the track to settle, but just as it reaches its climax, it reluctantly begins to recede, lingering out for some time. There is much more grit in Part Two as interferences and environmental glitches continuously emerge from a seemingly orchestral cloud. After circling for a moment, they eventually evaporate, only to materialize once more in a condensed form toward the end. Part Three is perhaps the most rewarding composition here. While its first section gently develop over a series of soft and warm sounds, a wall of guitars progressively washes over before exploding into autonomous particles of distortion. As this cloud of noise comes crashing down, all is left is a single thread of sound which eventually brings this album to a close.

Parlane is responsible for the vast majority of the sound sources used here, but additional contributions from sound artist Marcel Bear on Part One, Japanese guitarist and violinist Tetuzi Akiyama on Part Two, and no less than eight guitarists, including Norwegian noise artist Lasse Marhaug and Dead C member Michael Morley, on Part Three. Yet, it is very much the New Zealander’s vision that transpires throughout. Rosy Parlane has found in Touch his spiritual home and Jessamine is sure to continue establish him as a major artist.

Neumu (USA):

On his previous full-length effort, New Zealand sound sculptor Rosy Parlane used cycling guitar and organ patterns to erect mountainous drones and dense layerings. Spurred on by mite-like rustlings and frozen blocks of digital ice, they loomed off into a vertiginous, chromatic climb. John Wozencraft's immaculate blue-filtered photographs of snow-encrusted landscapes and silent stone buildings seemed to echo the album's mystique, and here on Parlane's second CD, his images once again prove telling.

The album's artwork features leafy foliage dangling over a murky pool, which reflects the dense pall of green. The album works in much the same manner, as subtle guitar dynamics stretch into tightly manipulated, gently expanding and contracting textures. In turn, a cluster of high-frequency tones and the soft thrum of an organ quickly mirror their movements, creating a fine sense of space and letting the sound grow wider and deeper.

This almost minimalist discipline continues on the second track, as composed, chiming harmonics and swooping feedback tones are gradually fragmented by the scuttle and trickle of field recordings. The crisp digital repetitions and sustained tones then begin to drift towards despondency — a steely-edged, roaring patch of noise suddenly attacks the errant drone before receding into the night.

Here, Parlane demonstrates restraint and delicacy of feeling. Although heavily manipulated, pieces proceed naturally, with each discrete element quickly responding and often building upon the subtle movements of the others, which themselves disappear and reemerge at key moments. There's a fine coordination on display in pieces both constant and disjunctive, diffuse and coherent.

At 19 minutes, the third and final track again builds up blocks of sound, then rearranges them to suit the mole-like burrowings and slashing shards of digital clicks and hiccups. The opening moments are serene, but the sounds of nature slowly encroach, joined by various string-scraping sounds, pointillist guitar plucks and hoarse feedback, turning the entire sound field into a mucky pulp. It's the most blistering, overblown piece Parlane has put together so far, and a fine highlight to his deceptively knotty sound.

Jessamine draws from Parlane's ongoing tendency to contrast arching drones with slivers of digital noise — which, in one way or another, often mimic animals or events normally seen in nature. But it also shows a new complexity, capturing his sound from new angles, bringing in jarring elements to create a tense balance. [Max Schaefer]

New Zealand Herald (NZ):

Sound experimentalist Rosy Parlane is better known in Europe and parts of America then here because there's a bigger market for the Aucklander's "abstract, electronic-based music". It's a shame because what he creates is inspired, exquisite, and although it takes patience to fully realise it, a work of art. Using loops, samples, piano, guitars and field recordings, he produces soundscapes of beauty and, if parts of his latest album Jessamine are anything to go by, destruction. For example, on Part 2 of Jessamine there's a resonator guitar being played with a samurai sword (courtesy of player Tetuzi Akiyama) and the searing ambience is lethal. His last solo album, Iris, which was released in 2004 and gained high praise from Red Hot Chilli Pepper John Frusciante, was an icy and brittle beauty. Put simply, Jessamine – a three part, 49 minute journey – has more movement. And just you wait until Part Three; a climactic 19 minute odyssey with contributions from eight different guitarists, including New Zealand's own Michael Morley (Dead C) and David Mitchell (3D's, Ghost Club). Admittedly this sort of music is not for everyone, and just plain odd to most. But for fans of bands like Jakob or Mogwai, and for those who appreciate challenging and beautiful music, it's well worth checking out. 4/5 [Scott Kara]

The Wire (UK):

Other Music (USA):

Absolutely gorgeous drone piece from New Zealand's Parlane, coming off like Flying Saucer Attack intercepted in between field recordings and FM radio static. Thick, melodic, meditative sheets of noise drift down like sediment and rest upon one another, as Parlane manipulates guitars, saw blades, bowed metal, and various other instruments to a profound and disquieting effect. For the finale, the cream of New Zealand's guitar crop (including Birchville Cat Motel's Campbell Kneale, Gate/Dead C.'s Michael Morley, and 3D's David Mitchell) step in to contribute shimmering, dense waves of fuzz and feedback. Triumphant, dark, and all-encompassing soundscapes for the next journey inside your mind. [DM]

boomkat (UK):

New Zealander Rosy Parlane’s second full length for the Touch label sees the musician taking a slightly different route from his revered 'Iris' album – where 'Iris' dealt with the more glacial end of the sound spectrum, 'Jessamine' sees him throwing caution to the wind and working with slow moving guitar-based dronescapes, occasionally venturing into ear-shattering noise. It's a acptivating move for the artist that sees him shuffle more in line with labelmate and occasional musical sparring-partner Christian Fennesz as the guitar becomes far more audible in the mix than it was on his previous work. Split into three parts, the album begins with a thirteen-minute piece of cascading digital detritus which drifts and pulsates glacially until, mid way through, organic sounds enter into scope. It is a welcome addition and brings the sound into the wet ground, mimicking the marshy landscapes of Jon Wozencroft’s typically stunning cover art. Rather than bringing to mind frozen Northern European ice fields we are in baking heat, dragonflies buzzing past, brushing our way past reeds and watching carefully for Alligators. The album’s second chunk builds on this theme still further, introducing a low end thrum which would give Sunn O))) a run for their money, again changing pace mid-way through to allow field recordings to creep in, this time of rainfall bringing to mind a tropical shower somewhere deep in the rainforest. It is the third act however which amazes the most, and brings focus to the entire record – slowly building over twenty minutes this starts simply enough with bubbling synthesizer sounds and decaying glitches but over it's duration the track builds and builds into a symphony of harsh noise, peaking in total cacophony at sixteen minutes before plunging into near silence. The track is absolutely mesmerising and is easily one of the most outstanding pieces Parlane has put his name to yet, polishing the album off in truly earth-shaking style. Yet another corker of a release for the crucial Touch label this should have experimental fetishists and noise aficionados beaming this Christmas. Huge recommendation. (USA):

New Zealand’s Rosy Parlane first popped up on the musical radar as one third of the psychedelic post-punk outfit, Thela, alongside Dion Workman and Dean Roberts. After a pair of excellent releases in the early 90s, the trio split. Parlane and Workman continued to work together, forming the Sigma Editions label, but their music changed considerably, shifting towards digital reductivism, and Parlane’s work, both solo and in collaboration with Workman as Parmentier, became increasingly spare and minimal. In recent years, however, he has returned to his analog roots somewhat, creating shimmering, finely detailed drones. With Jessamine, his fourth solo record, Parlane continues down this musical path, but this time injects considerable sonic grit in the mix. Comprised of three, long, meditative pieces, the record, even during its extended periods of apparent calm, teems with activity. Parlane uses a multitude of sound sources and instruments from bowed metal to household objects, field recordings to acoustic and electric guitar to create his densely textured music. Each piece is an example of the beauty of subtle sonic evolution, but perhaps none more so than the third and final piece, which builds slowly and inexorably from pastoral tranquility until the listener is engulfed in glorious, crashing waves of guitar-based distortion (using samples from Norway’s Lasse Marhaug and fellow New Zealander Campbell Kneale among others). Mind-bendingly beautiful. [Susanna Bolle]

Dusted (USA):

New Zealander Rosy Parlane’s second effort for Touch embraces the broad outlines of music without conceding his orientation towards pure sound. Specifically, this record outs him as a child of rock; like Campbell Kneale (Birchville Cat Motel, Black Boned Angel), electric guitar racket is threaded into his artistic DNA, and here the strands push against the sonic surface until it bursts.

Jessamine comprises three unnamed tracks, as did Parlane’s last album Isis; both albums consist of carefully treated sounds stretched against the sort of continuous backdrop computers are so good at providing. But where Isis was as chill and light as its icy cover illustration, Jessamine feels earthy. And while the earth, like ice, moves slowly, it’s capable of much greater violence. “Part One” opens with a humming drone similar to Rafael Toral’s Wave Field and the last minutes of Sonic Youth’s “Xpressway To Yr Skull,” then accumulates scrapes and groans that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Mirror or AMM record. Parlane places and processes these sounds so carefully that you might not notice the natural progression from Prévost-like metallic protests to Neil Young-like feedback shrieks until it’s a fait accompli. “Part Two” has less movement but a bit more grain and grit, with crackling static bubbling up through the bright foundational drone like nighttime mist rising off the damp ground.

High-pitched digital flickers flit across the opening of “Part Three” like birds’ voices at the start of a new day. Then a violin rises in the mix, as though the listener was approaching a practicing Tony Conrad from around the hill, and the natural world yields to churning rock action. Throaty roars and fuzz tones accumulate, like cosmic matter flying into a black hole; eight guitarists, ranging from New Zealand vets Michael Morley and David Mitchell to noted non-guitarist Lasse Marhaug, bring the noise. And a glorious noise it is. But like all the best walls of sound, “Part Three’s” is not monochrome, but rich in seething details that burst through like newly-hatched winged beings anxious to fly. Rock on.
[Bill Meyer]

Gonzo Circus (Belgium):

In onze contreien is de groep Parmentier nooit echt doorgebroken en heeft de groep rond Rosy Parlane en Dion Workman het enkel bij een select clubje van doorgewinterde kenners tot een cultstatus gebracht. Die status hebben ze te danken aan hun in 1998 verschenen meesterwerk ‘Luxsound’ die tot een standaardwerk van de moderne klassieke composities gerekend mag worden. Tenminste als we de biografie mogen geloven, want Parlane en Workman brachten 'Luxsound' op slechts honderd stuks en op hun eigen label Sigma Editions uit. De plaat werd gemaakt met een low-tech sampler en combineert op een uiterst inventieve manier drones, minimale soundscapes en modern klassieke muziek. De samenwerking tussen Parlane en Dion Workman dateerde al van bij Thela, een groep die vooral tot de verbeelding sprak omdat ze getekend waren op Lee Ronaldo zijn Ecstatic Peace! Label. Parlane zelf liet Nieuw Zeeland achter zich en vond een onderkomen in Engeland waar hij in contact kwam met Mike Harding en Jon Wozencroft van het Touchlabel. ‘Iris’, zijn debuutplaat voor het label paste wonderwel in catalogus van het gereputeerde Touch. De fragiele, mooi vormgegeven soundscapes die haast organisch evolueren tot een levend landschap konden op veel bijval rekenen en zorgde ervoor dat Parlane John Frusciante tot zijn fanbasis mag rekenen. Met ‘Jessamine’ neemt hij draad weer op. Over een periode van twee jaar werkte Parlane aan de plaat en engageerde een trits muzikanten, waar Tetuzi Akiyama en Lassa Marhaug de bekendste van zijn. De hoesnota’s geven ook mee dat onder meer een samoeraizwaard, huishoudapparatuur en een viool tot het instrumentarium behoorde. Het uitgelezen arsenaal aan middelen en aan mensen, Parlane engageerde tien muzikanten en meer dan zestien muziekinstrumenten (of afgeleiden) voor zijn project, mondt uit in een uiterst sobere plaat. Alsof alles verdampte in de atmosfeer die Parlane hier creëert. Parlane opent rustig met ‘Part One’, vaak lijkt het alsof hij nog zijn weg zoekt en eerder aftast dan duidelijke keuzes te maken. In het tweede deel bouwt hij verder op het eerste luik. Magistraal is vooral het derde gedeelte waarin hij op een haast verborgen wijze stap per stap elementen toevoegt, eerst wat resonantie, daarna enkele niet toe te wijzen geluiden (de keukenrobot?) om vervolgens in een orkaan van geluiden aan te komen waarin Parlane de rol van gids voor zijn rekening neemt. Overvol, maar evenzeer heel open, maar misschien vooral het mooiste stuk muziek dat we sinds lang hoorden. We hebben meer dan twee jaar moeten wachten op een vervolg, het bleek de moeite waard te zijn. Voor fans van het werk van Fennesz, Biosphere, Oren Ambarchi of Deathprod is dit met voorsprong de plaat van het jaar. [PDS]

VITAL (The Netherlands):

A little over two years ago, Rosy Parlane, made his debut on Touch with 'Iris', following solo releases on Sigma, and a membership of such bands as Thela and Parmetier. Three tracks back then, and on 'Jessamine' again three tracks. Rosy plays here electric and acoustic guitars, piano, melodica, accordion, violin, trombone, snare drum, shimsaw (an instrument designed by Marcel Bear), bowed metal, household objects, field recordings, radio, computer and contact microphone, and if that isn't enough there is also help from a whole bunch of people who played guitar. The first track starts out in common territory: ambient glitch made with bowed guitars, violins, but Parlane's music is more angular. It has a sharper edge, already in this first piece. Even a bit of old Organum could be traced in these scraping and bowing sounds. It's hard to say if all the instruments mentioned on the cover are also there, but guitars are definitely there. In the loudest part, 'Part Three' things become orgasmic loud, almost in a Merzbow manner, but Parlane keeps things nicely under control. Overall, Parlane has a richer sound than on 'Iris', there is more happening and he is stepping out of the more safer microsound glitch. Quite a leap forward! [FdW]

OneLouderNYC (USA):

It's Epic! Rosy Parlane's "Part 3"
Do you have 20 minutes to spare? Rosy Parlane's "Part 3", the denouement of his second album Jessamine, is time well-spent. In over a quarter of an hour, Parlane moves the track from the blissful sound of the pop and crackle of a needle on a dusty record to a menacing storm of sound. It's a stunning composition, never boring or incidental.

It may be dominated by a cacophonous meltdown, but "Part 3"'s peaceful beginning is just as interesting. Specks of sound flitter from ear to ear. In the distance, a mournful whistle descends down the spine, chills left in its wake. It's a warning. This idyllic moment will come to a violent end.

The onslaught begins around the 8-minute mark. A white wave of noise slowly builds and surges to utter chaos, thanks to the contribution of eight guitar players and the augmentation of amplified sawblades and shimsaws. If all-absorbing sound is your thing, the next 11 minutes is nirvana. You may start praying for it to end; relief does come on just at the brink of insanity. Parlane ends the track as it began, a quiet moment wrapped in the analog crackling of an old record.

Blow Up (Italy):

All Music (USA):

Rosy Parlane's second solo effort on Touch doesn't have anything to do with the Portland space rock outfit that also used that name, but Jessamine, divided into three parts on the disc, does share a similar affinity for the exploratory, moody, and mysterious - no bad things in the right hands. Again recording everything by himself for the most part along with some contributions here and there - notably including no less than eight guitarists on the third and final part, whose
contributions are used by Parlane in the overall mix - Parlane's constructions balance the evocative, wasted hush of any number of ambient doom mongers and the evanescent grace of those inclined to a warmer, enveloping feeling. These aren't unfamiliar fields by any means, but Parlane's gift lies in his ear for slowly unfolding arrangements - rather than simple loops or monotone constructions, the feeling is one of organic evolution, tones, cries, and drones interlocking and developing in slow progression. Certainly this is the feeling of the first part in its entirety, with Marcel Bear's guest shimsaw work sometimes cutting through the mix with a high-pitched scream, softened and slowed. In notable contrast is the second part, which is almost barely there - not minimalist but simply minimal, the subtlest of high tones starts to evolve into a full flowing interweaving of lighter but still vast sounding drones, ending on the calmest of notes. The third part, as noted, attracts attention for its personnel alone (participants include Michael Morley and David Mitchell), but deserves it most for its excellent valedictory feeling, wrapping up the disc almost as an extended coda of calm tone-float. The guitar feedback starts to grow and grow more audible a third of the way into the song, transforming the piece and thus the end of the album into a simultaneously serene and extremely violent conclusion - a balance of extremes that combines excellently. [Ned Raggett]

Almost Cool (USA):

Like his previous album Iris, Jessamine finds electronic artist Rosy Parlane creating three long, untitled tracks that mix pretty flutterings of ambience with downright harsh bits of noise for a nearly fifty minute journey through sometimes pastoral, and sometimes uneasy listening. It's possible that I'm reading into things too much, but it seems that once again the packaging on the release ties very closely with the music itself. Iris was all blue hues and snow, and the sometimes icy, sometimes billowing musical portraits seemed to match up with the cover art just about perfectly.

This time around, the cover art is green, and while the music of Parlane still has many things in common with his past release (slowly evolving pieces that build and bloom slowly, sometimes crackled by feedback), Jessamine has an organic feel that again ties to Wozencroft's photos of a dense jungle and lush foliage overhanging murky green water. Parlane plays electric and acoustic guitar, piano, melodica, accordion, violin, trombone, and loads of other household objects, but as always the resulting mass of sound barely lets anything through in original form.

"Part One" opens the release and at thirteen minutes is the shortest on the disc. The first third of the track finds some gentle drones morphing underneath a higher, ringing tone before the piece opens up about halfway through with lighter hums and some organic noises that vary between the crackling of insects and the quiet sound of water. "Part Two" opens where the first piece left off, with lower drones that again introduce some field-recording type sounds that come in somewhere between the flickering of a hard fire and what you'd imagine the inside of a wasps nest to sound like. The track again shifts about halfway through, into a much more dark section before a high-pitched squeal of noise punctures the spooky drone and then crawls off again.

In terms of sheer dynamics, it's "Part Three" that gives the most bang for the buck, as a beautiful introduction of phases chatter gives way to encroaching feedback that lulls you at first and then completely sandblasts the track in a way that would make Kevin Drumm throw the devil hands. In many ways, Jessamine reminds me of the work of Francisco Lopez, who samples different sounds of nature and then turns them into sometimes glorious, sometimes downright scary pieces of sound that manage to retain a portion of their organic feel, but are pushed into new and otherworldly territory with the use of filtering and layering. An album that can really only be appreciated on headphones or when played loud, Parlane is definitely a fine sound technician. It's definitely not for everyone (and even with the changes is a little too uniform overall for my taste), but power ambient fans should lap this up.

Gonzo Circus (The Netherlands):

Musciclub (Italy):

Il neozelandese Rosy Parlane si ripresenta a due anni di distanza dal precedente lavoro su Touch (quel 'Iris' che gli garantě un ritorno critico piů che positivo) con un disco ancora descrittivo e finalizzato alla creazione di modulazioni sonore in movimento. Un movimento spesso rallentato, tanto rarefatto quanto intenso e carico di energia cinetica, incentrato sulla creazione di fasce musicali stratificate e che si alimentano di molteplici arricchimenti strumentali (elettrici, acustici o elettronici, dal piano alla chitarra trattata in ogni modo possibile, dalla fisarmonica al laptop passando per il trombone) cosě come di field recording, addizionando e sottraendo a seconda delle esigenze strutturali. Tre lunghi brani che palesano una certa staticitŕ di fondo (il primo), un crescendo lineare nella norma, pur se emotivamente significativo per l'ascoltatore (il secondo), e una deriva noise, rispetto alle elucubrazioni drone/ambientali dei primi due, non particolarmente creativa (il terzo). Da tutto ciň, ovvero da quanto appena affermato, se ne evince che 'Jessamine' č album piů che sufficiente, ma non eccezionale e che Rosy Parlane continua a navigare in un mare giŕ scandagliato a fondo da numerosi colleghi e che difficilmente lo porterŕ a percorrere rotte inesplorate. [Roberto Michieletto]

Aquarius (USA):

New Zealand prime minister Helen Clark should really have a word with one of her country's citizens about the paucity of material he's been producing over the years. When so many other New Zealand sound artists release dozens of albums every year (you know, Birchville Cat Motel, Peter Wright, Anthony Milton, etc.), how can almost three years go by between albums for Rosy Parlane? Fortunately, Parlane's delinquency in keeping up with his fellow New Zealanders is made up by the quality of Jessamine. While Parlane's work harbors a glassine drone sensibility found in the similarly minded aforementioned NZ artists, his work has a considerable density and an appreciation for digital processing rarely heard in the feral drone underground. Parlane's ephemeral atmospheres strive for an activated minimalism, occasionally harboring similarities to the sparkling electronica of the Kompakt Pop Ambient sensibility; but he often pushes the work into teethgrinding electro-acoustic studies paralleling the Hafler Trio and even Hitoshi Kojo's vastly under appreciated collaboration with Maurizio Bianchi. The closest thing that Parlane gets to the tempestuousness of a Campbell Kneale outing is on Jessamine's finale which culminates in a steadily building track of monochromatic psychedelic distortion.

d-side (France):

Neural (Italy):

Three long recordings, as in the 'Iris' debut album, bless again the elegant fruitfulness of Rosy Parlane. And again her sounds are presented with the refined Jon Wozencroft artwork: the charm of the images seem to suddenly suggest a more organic inspiration, with an iterated structure. The forms are lively with a metallic substratum, that relates everything to a hefty nature, where earth is a primeval and pulsating core. An amalgam of sounds that flows, with drones, subdued frequencies, micro emergencies made out of amplified rustlings, that slowly come into life. There are hints of mystical ritual music, almost spontaneous fruits of energy that springs and then drains away. In the third suite there's a choral and harmonious intro that holds the stage, almost classical but suddenly besieged by effects, cracks ad resonances. It's a suspended tale, that lies over a sort of dragonfly movements (to the latter some natural / synthetic processing seem to hint at), while all around the complexity of everything unfolds in epic tones, with its charming strength. [Aurelio Cianciotta]

Westzeit (Germany):

Rockerilla (Italy):

Debug (Germany):

GoMag (Spain):

Areen (Estonia):

See on Uus-Meremaa muusiku Rosy Parlane'i teine plaat Touchi all. Esimene, "Iris", pälvis küllaga ülistussőnu jms. " Jessamine" on tihe, (kesk)konnahäältega segatud ambient, aga ikka muusika, mitte soundscape. Metafoorses mőttes
küll "helimaastik", niipalju need välilindistused juurde annavad. Eno ("Ambient 4") ja paljud teisedki on midagi sarnast teinud, kuid "Jessamine'i" omapära on heliallikate suur hulk ja tuvastamatus. Koos kompositsioonide meloodilise ülesehituse ja rohelise jőe vői konnatiigiga plaadiümbrisel muudab see albumi
vőrdlemisi külgetőmbavaks. "Part Two" läheb keskel päris müraseks. Üks tähelepanekule sarnanev hüpotees: "Jessamine" moduleerib stiili erinevate helikihtide valjusega: ülesvőimendatud mürakiht annab noise'i,poolkuuldamatuks keeratu aga ambient'i. Viimane lugu, "Part Three", on meloodiliselt kőige uhkem, tegelikult väga lihtne, kompositsioon edeneb hoopis eri kihtide lisamise ja rütmi toel. Kőik algab diskreetse tule- vői lindikrabinast aleatoorilise meloodia taustal, suubub kurdistavasse mürra ning lőpeb őelas kabelivaikuses. 7 [Erkki Luuk]

musiquemachine (UK):

Rosy Parlane (male) is a New Zealand based musician who specialises in dense complex electro-acoustic music based around unrecognisable loops, field recordings, guitars and other instruments. Iris, his previous release on Touch, received considerable praise, including surprisingly from Red Hot Chilli Peppers guitarist John Frusciante. His second release on Touch is another tour de force of contemporary drone and electro-acoustics.

The three long tracks have no titles but are far more distinct than this lack of separation would suggest. The first track grows on a wave of deep metallic drone that could be conjured up from bowed metal or manipulated string glissandi. There appears to be field recordings that could be from a forest or country setting. There are no discernable instruments as such, only a thick miasma of noise out of which strange otherworldly sounds emanate. It fills the room and holds the attention far more than most music of this kind.

The second track begins with a tense high pitched drone that carries more dread than the earthy warmth of the first piece. Harsh crackly digital noise flitters around the edges as a semi-orchestral wave of noise swells up amid distant unfathomable loops and shards of incidental sound. Tetuzi Akiyama guests on this track, providing resonator guitar with Samurai sword and contact microphones. I have no idea what that would sound like but the dense metallic drone and string-like hum that invades the track at about six minutes could be it. The thickness of the sound reaches a breaking point at just past ten minutes at which point the whole thing collapses on a sharp bed of saw like digital noise. This falls away as quickly as it began leaving an empty minimal undulation and rustling.

The final track revisits some of the warmth and flow of the first tracks opening few minutes. Vinyl-like scratches and pleasant little electric flares and twitches, like insects, crawl across my speakers. We are in the forest again. However the tension from the second track is here also and builds over the first ten minutes with evermore oppressive guitar-like drone and thick swathes of digital noise. By the midway point the track has ascended to a vast wall of noise that Merzbow would be proud of. This continues unabated for the remainder of the track before falling away leaving only the stumps of the forest behind.

The power and emotion conveyed in Rosy Parlane's music is a rare gem in the field of drone and electro-acoustic music, and is one that warrants significant investigation by all fans of said genres. [Roger Batty]

Total Music (UK):

Here in the TM-Online bunker we spend huge great chunks of each week hot swapping CD’s faster than our ears can feasibly accomodate, wading through vast swathes of derivative drivel, or just diving for the eject button halfway through track one, all of which makes interludes like Jessamine very welcome, if difficult to recommend. We are talking textures here, from the gently undulating to the downright ear shredding, spread over three parts and about as removed from the concept of a ‘song’ as you can get, often beautiful, occasionally scary and altogether intriguing, we suggest you listen before buying, but we do suggest you listen.

His Voice (Czechia):

Playboy (Poland):

Geiger (Denmark):

Komponisten Rosy Parlane, der udsendte debuten Iris i 2004, har allerede fĺet en sĺkaldt celebrity fan i guitaristen fra Red Hot Chili Peppers, John Frusciante, der kaldte albummet et mestervćrk. Nu er ros fra musikere fra musikindustriens svćrvćgtsklasse sjćldent et kvalitetsstempel, men nĺr det er Frusciante, der
udtaler sig, sĺ er der grund til at slĺ řrene ud, for guitaristen er kendt for sin eklektiske, men kvalitetsbevidste musiksmag, der omfatter alt fra tysk krautrock til obskur electronica.

Ogsĺ Jim Haynes, hvis udgivelse Telegraphy By The Sea, der af denne anmelder blev udnćvnt til en af ĺrets bedste, har udtalt sig sćrdeles positivt om Parlane. Med vanlig poetisk prćcision skriver Haynes i The Wire om Iris:

"On the one hand, Parlane stretches sounds from guitar, piano and organ into unrecognisable drones that swell into dense layerings, every once in a while coalescing into fluttering half-melodies. On the other, he emphasis the textual qualities of those digital fragments, simulating the natural acoustics of ice crackling from trees in winter or the gentle patter of rain on a windowsill. When fusing these together by placing the textures against the backdrop of the drone, Parlane effectively builds pointillist sound environments with a profoundly human

Nĺr jeg citerer Haynes kondenserede beskrivelse af Iris, sĺ er det fordi, den musikalske poetik stadig passer pĺ Jessamine. Parlane skaber stadig
komplekse musikalske droner, der modsvares af lag af taktile lyde. Netop det taktile element ved Parlanes musik er sĺ bjergtagende. Det er nćrmest som om man kan "gribe" lydene ud af luften og de har en overvćldende effekt, idet de glider ind under huden. Der er, som Haynes skriver, igen tale om alle former for manipuleret lyd fra guitar, violin, trombone, klaver, sav, metal osv., men de originale kilder er blevet rippet for deres referentielle element og genfundet i
deres poetiske potentiale. Grćnsen mellem "naturlige" field recordings og kunstige "rock" instrumenter er egentlig udvisket.

Parlane er pĺ Jessamine optaget af at skabe en musikalsk progression, der foregĺr over tre afsnit: "Part One" (13:08), "Part Two" (16:28) og "Part Three" (19:06). Som man kan lćse ud fra numrenes varighed er der tale om en dobbelt
tidslig udvidelse dels af det overordnede musikalske rum og det enkelte kompositoriske rum, der gradvist řges i antal af minutter. Den dramatiske effekt tager ogsĺ til i lřbet af albummet, hvor storslĺet ambient efterhĺnden giver plads til en orkestral mur af lagdelt knitrende střj. Det bemćrkelsesvćrdige er imidlertid, hvorledes Rosy Parlane hele tiden beholder den poetiske skrřbelighed i sine monumentale walls of sounds. Vćrket fřles aldrig overlćsset pĺ trods af de mange lag af lyd, og det manglende melodiske element er ikke savnet i et vćrk, der konstant leder lytteren frem mod nye mutationer og inviterer til skćrpet opmćrksomhed.

Jessamine er en dobbelt triumf: dels for selskabet Touch, der fortsćtter med at sćtte nye standarder for udgivelse af posthuman kompositionsmusik, og dels for Rosy Parlane, der mĺ tages seriřst som en komponist pĺ linje med de allerstřrste og mest relevante i vor tid - heriblandt Jim Haynes. [Jakob Bćkgaard]

Sound of Music (Sweden):

Subtilt men utan tvekan leder Rosy Parlane in dig i vackra landskap i den tredelade sviten ”Jessamine” pĺ nyazeeländarens andra Touchalbum. Hela sviten bottnar i minimalistiska toner som ger olika grundstämningar; varmt och mystiskt, kyligt expanderande och mjukt vibrerande.

Kring grundtonerna placerar Parlane ut kretsande digitaliserade ljud frĺn en uppsjö av instrument och objekt – gitarr, piano, melodica, accordion, violin, trombon, metall, sĺgblad, hushĺllsattiraljer, kontaktmikrofoner, fältinspelningar, radio – som förvandlats till oigenkännlighet. Vad som är vad spelar ingen roll, inte heller kan jag riktigt härleda var i ”Part Two” Tetuzi Akiyama kommer in med sin ”resonator guitar” spelad med samurajsvärd. Ljud kommer och ljud förvinner, inte som i en kakafoni, utan allt känns välplacerat och tillför den musikaliska kroppen nya detaljer och utväxter.

Kraften i den avslutande ”Part Three” är stark. Den musikaliska kroppen växer sig ofantlig av gitarrer som kastar ut massiva ljudmattor av distortion. Helt fantastiskt! Och det är storartat att han inte med datorns hjälp skapar mattorna, utan har bjudit in musiker som Lasse Marhaug, Campbell Kneale, Michael Morley och fem till. [Magnus Olsson]

Neural (Italy):

Three long recordings, as in the 'Iris' debut album, bless again the elegant fruitfulness of Rosy Parlane. And again her sounds are presented with the refined Jon Wozencroft artwork: the charm of the images seem to suddenly suggest a more organic inspiration, with an iterated structure. The forms are lively with a metallic substratum, that relates everything to a hefty nature, where earth is a primeval and pulsating core. An amalgam of sounds that flows, with drones, subdued frequencies, micro emergencies made out of amplified rustlings, that slowly come into life. There are hints of mystical ritual music, almost spontaneous fruits of energy that springs and then drains away. In the third suite there's a choral and harmonious intro that holds the stage, almost classical but suddenly besieged by effects, cracks ad resonances. It's a suspended tale, that lies over a sort of dragonfly movements (to the latter some natural / synthetic processing seem to hint at), while all around the complexity of everything unfolds in epic tones, with its charming strength. [Aurelio Cianciotta]

Aufabwegen (Germany):

EtherREAL Disques (France):

Rosy Parlane est néo-zélandais, et Jessamine sorti en décembre 2006 était son deuxičme album chez Touch chez qui il trouve assez logiquement sa place avec une musique ambient ŕ la fois hypnotique et expérimentale, plus complexe qu’il n’y paraît. Ce nouvel album connaît la męme structure que son prédécesseur (Iris paru en 2004) avec 3 longues pičces d’une durée comprise en 13 et 19 minutes.

Ce qui surprend d’abord, ce sont les premičres minutes de l’album alors qu’on lit les notes de pochette. L’instrumentation est on ne peut plus éclectique, mais surtout surprenante au regard de la musique produite : guitares, piano, mélodica, accordéon, violon, trombone, autant d’instruments qui ne serviront que de source sonore, au męme titre qu’une scie et autres objets qui lui tombent sous la main, des micro-contacts, une radio, un ordinateur bien sűr, et des field recordings assez logiquement. Difficile de retrouver l’origine des sources sonores ŕ l’écoute de ces nappes et textures enchevętrées, męme si le son clair et métallisé du titre d’ouverture, quasi orchestral, laisse apparaître de nombreuses percussions, genre timbales ou bols tibétains, grincements métalliques, larsens.
Au second plan, on trouve toujours un drone qui sévit, mais il sera plus présent encore sur Part Two, parsemé de grésillements, puis de nappes tendues, et frétillements métalliques pour un rendu quasi aquatique. Aprčs une minute d’agression stridente, retour au calme, eau dormante et vagues de pluie.
Le dernier titre laisse apparaître des nappes cristallines, des sifflements tombés du ciel, féériques, quelques crépitement, jusqu’ŕ ce qu’ŕ mi-parcours, l’ensemble se voit envahi d’une texture grésillante. On approche alors du son de guitares saturées qui a fait le succčs de Fennesz, dans un style d’abord hypnotique, déviant petit ŕ petit vers un univers plus dérangé, plus destructuré, et finalement trčs rock.

Si l’on pourrait ranger Rosy Parlane un peu aisément dans une veine ambient-drone, la richesse de ses compositions, ses élans imprévisibles, son instrumentation orchestrale sont autant d’éléments qui lui confčre un univers plus personnel, difficilement classable et donc indispensable. [Fabrice Allard]

ideabiografica (Italy):

Decisamente č – ormai - da qualche anno che ascolto musica e scrivo di essa, ma – fino ad ora - non mi era mai capitato di “sentire” ciň che ora vi descriverň. Ghiaccio, diamante freddo allo stato puro… La label imputata alla pubblicazione di questi cd “bianchi” si chiama Touch e ha sede in quel di Londra. Ma con la pop music, la dance ed il rock non c'entra proprio nulla. La Touch impone una sua personale interpretazione (e naturale visione) dell’arte. Questa “personalissima” (e cruda) “interpretazione” si sviluppa in lavori veramente stranianti. Ad esempio Chris Watson (britannico di Sheffield, e nessuna parentela con la scena elettronica dei Cabaret Voltaire ect.) e Bj Nilsen (svedese) hanno letteralmente creato dal nulla “Storm”. “Tempesta” nella traduzione in italiano, cioč hanno registrato gli sconvolgimenti della natura nel mare del Nord. Tutto in stereofonia, cosě si potranno ascoltare il debordare delle acque e le “grida” degli uccelli. Opera totalmente avulsa da qualsiasi concetto commerciale. Come “Jessamine” a firma della neo zelandese Rosy Parlane, in cui rumori o “drones” urticanti scavano nel profondo della mente. Melodia ovviamente zero, tabula rasa desertificata. Rosy spezzetta vorticosamente tutto quello che si potrebbe definire suono, e castra ogni possibilitŕ dell’arrivo di semplici note. Sarŕ che sto vertiginosamente invecchiando, perň questi lapilli di “cultura” mi hanno catturato il cervello. Tutto molto bello come il capodanno dell’anno 2007, solitario, in preda alle onde marine e a scricchiolii circospetti… [Claudio Baroni]


John Frusciante says: says:

"The notes are the least important part of music. There’s a lot of great music that doesn’t even have notes, but the people that make it are people of great personal power and personal conviction and people who life means something to. Someone like this guy, Rosy Parlane, who just put out a great record, it’s called “Iris,” I think. It’s on Touch. There are very little notes on that album. It’s not about notes, it’s mostly sounds. But it’s such an incredible, beautiful energy inside of it that to me, it sounds like listening to a great pop record or a great rock record or a great classical record or whatever. The notes don’t matter at all. Aside from notes, you have to remember that it’s a combination of rhythm, notes and texture. Music is not just notes. Rhythm, notes and texture. The notes have a correlation to the way that life goes up and down and the notes go up and down. Inwardly we go up and down, and notes go up and down. That’s what they mean to us. When you put chords behind it, it starts to work into appealing to your subconscious in a way that expresses things that we can’t intellectually express."

Neumu (USA):

Iris exposed Parlane as a focal artist in modern music. Adorned with Jon Wozencraft's superlative photographs of abandoned, snow-encrusted pastoral landscapes seen through a blue filter, this work acutely articulates the malaise and mystery spurred by a season of blustery blizzards and frozen icicles drooping off of rooftops. Parlane paints on a canvas of arching drones with hailstorms of glitch electronica, an occasional sibilance of hazy white noise and sharp shafts of digital sound equivalent to squalls of wind snapping at a metal awning. Given that where I am presently it is -37 degrees outside, one might imagine that I would be playing Endless Summer ad nauseam, yet Iris accommodates itself so well with the winter season. With the inclusion of subtle field recordings and organic instruments such as a celestial church organ, these compositions stand out from their peers on account of the human quality with which each is imbued.

The Wire (UK):

Jon Wozencroft's impeccable photography and design packages Rosy Parlane's Iris inside a predominantly blue package, inextricably linking the music to the emotional resonance of the colour. If this has more to do with the power of suggestion of the Touch branding campaign, Parlane's audio impression is certainly nothing to scoff at. He flushes his soundfields with cascades of digital fragments which he separates into two distinct compositional categories. On the one hand, Parlane stretches sounds from guitar, piano and organ into unrecognisable drones that swell into dense layerings, every once in a while coalescing into fluttering half-melodies. On the other, he emphasises the textural qualities of those digital fragments, simulating the natural acoustics of ice crackling from trees in winter or the gentle patter of rain on a windowsill. When fusing these together by placing the textures against the backdrop of the drone, Parlane effectively builds pointillist sound environments with a profoundly human melancholia. [Jim Haynes]

Stylus (USA):

The photos adorning this piece depict snow-encrusted pastoral landscapes, ominous but icily beautiful, with not a person to be seen. And, like them, Iris unfurls tepid yet chilled, organic yet metallic, like a felt covered gong being struck softly in winter, the snow it harboured fluttering away, leaving its exposed skin to shake amid cold air.

Split into three lengthy parts, Rosy Parlane, is essentially writing aural short stories. Initially, Parlane, plants a seed, the setting, allowing enough time for the listener to gain familiarity with the whistling tones, undulating waves of ambience, and occasional glitch hailstorms. A few steps into 'Part One', and a wavering drone takes on characteristics of a faraway, unseen yet massive, generator. Parlane is quick to apply a variety of evolving textures against his drones. These frenzied rattles that dart through sheets of wind and ambience, create a sense of space and draw the listener in further. Hitherto the alien horizons take on a human feel. A croaking of crickets, a light stammer of footsteps wading through snow, the bristling of tree branches and extended pulses which blow like the wind, craft an impression wherein you're standing by a poorly ventilated wooden window, ice seeping in, as you stare out onto abandoned, snow covered hills. Rich harmonics, shift, commingle, and eventually evolve into arching drones, constantly in flux overhead. With the atmosphere becoming denser, crackling campfire electronics spark from a dying fire left behind.

Parlane has learnt how to pace himself. Iris invites you to leave a polluted macroscopic world to, instead, wander through a coherent opus of microscopic excursions. Even with an array of textures being used the work never feels as though a burlap sack of digital trickery is simply being emptied. Unlike so many, there is a patience to Parlane's work a honed ability to see ideas through to the end and to exhaust their potential. As such, when a harsh hailstorm of glitch electronics pours down at the climax point of 'Part One', it feels like an actual storm has arrived, since the steps taken prior to its onset leads so naturally to this outburst.

'Part Two', though more languid in pace, at first reminds of Philip Jeck's 'Wholesome'. That is, until an occasional sibilance of hazy white noise and clattering of plates pock marks the almost celestial church organ that began the piece. At just over eighteen minutes, the resonant hums that segue into a crest of reverberating, noticeably metallic, bell-like tones could have been condensed significantly without harmfully circumcising the intended effect.

The album's most mournful piece is its closer. It begins with a quasi melodic church organ which is soon splattered with glitch interference and sharp shafts of digital noise akin to the clammer of someone sorting through a file cabinet. These sounds are woven together expertly to paint a rather haunting impression, eventually coalescing the seismic sizzles into a high-energy drone, filling the aural space like a horde of echoing voices.

Iris mirrors the frosty, desolate landscapes decorating its linear notes. The music, which stems from largely artificial sound sources, nevertheless beams with a human feel unbeknownst to its peers. A homage to winter nights, Iris is an environment onto itself. [Max Schaefer]

Dusted (USA):

My impressions of this album have been indelibly shaped by the cover photo of a blue-filtered, scrupulously symmetrical winter. Parlane's layers of long, wavering tones and hissing static are, like the image, crisp, bright, and detailed; it's hard to believe that this music was recorded in the breezy and not-too-icy environs of Auckland, New Zealand.

But geographical origin isn't so important to this music; while Parlane's musical roots are in New Zealand, where he first recorded (with the trio Thela) and established his most enduring musical relationship (with Dion Workman, of Thela and Parmentier), he's spent the better part of a decade living the "have laptop, will travel" life, basing himself in the UK and Australia and performing with such diverse musicians as Eddie Prevost, Mattin, and Fennesz. Likewise, Parlane’s tools (reportedly piano, guitar, sampler, digital sound processing) don’t mean too much; this isn't instrumental music, but deftly deployed sound. Sound so powerful that it’s rather hard to write about — every time I put the record on and sit down at the keyboard to write, I end up just listening.

Perhaps not coincidentally, Iris's three tracks are numbered, not named, a none-too-subtle redirection away from language and toward so the record's considerable sensual presence. But words are what we use at Dusted, so let’s get to work. "Part 1" emerges reluctantly from silence; high, flickering tones accrue around a swelling, organ-like figure like filings upon a magnet. The central figure hints at but don’t quite resolve into a churchy melody; a distant jet-like whoosh thickens the sound, then a blizzard of bright hiss brings static (or is it running water?) to the foreground. Static, but not stasis, because even when you can’t spot any moving parts, Parlane’s music feels like it’s going somewhere. On "Track 2" he patiently refines and reduces the sound to a single long-held flutter, savors its hypnotic essence a while, then lets it go. Liberated, it flits into an aggregate of subtly rhythmic elements, to jubilant effect. "Part 3" is darker and heavier, like storm clouds lit with lightning. But there's no thunder; the dark grind just gets louder, as though you’re flying towards the cloud. Then you're through it, bursting into a flicker that's at once naturalistic and mechanical. Is it water on rocks? A film projector? Wind rustling ice crystals from the tree branches on the cover? Before you can say, it’s gone — until you turn the CD on again. [Bill Meyer] (web):

Iris is an enigma from its first inhalation. Broken into three lengthy sections, Auckland-based Rosy Parlane plays guitar, piano and other digital entities to craft something from another cosmos. The dreamy electronic drone has the chill of a church organ with variable weights and scales. Shadowy layers wander through a torrent of tiny electronic branches chafing the peripheral tunnel of sound. Cool tones emerge, crispy, like ice melting away to leave a vague hiss and diminishing, translucent debris. Part two opens like a cautious winter day, the title Iris seemingly informing the choreography of its snaking tonalities. Its use of field recordings throughout is like some type of reference (memory) chip reading information faster than Evelyn Wood. It's a sheer rapturous ambient coast, with distant squirming as if characters were repeatedly dropping silverware and ceramic saucers on marble-topped tables in a high-ceilinged café, heightening the sur-reality of memory, over and over again. The atmospheric light produced becomes open, free, and lush. In the last segment of the trilogy, dusk falls and the room darkens, bringing a peculiar sense of dread / repose / change. Maybe a reflection of the short life cycle of the luminous blue flower (or deep visionary inner eye) of the album title. Depending on the space you play this in it could have a hushed, background quality (your own lil' secret) or become an all-encompassing surround-sound drone mutating all other ambient noise. The nearer we come to the conclusion, the more ominous things become, until the final few minutes when the 0s and 1s seem to be edited into something akin to a waterfall breaking up into smaller bodies of water, broadening, spread with sparseness. Iris polarizes its sound the way acupuncture can completely reallocate the axis of your reflexes. [Tim Norris]

Brainwashed (USA):

Ineffable and at the limits of experience, the sounds inside this gorgeous little package break experiential limits. Though the imagery in the booklet suggests a cold and drifting place, I imagine the music to be more akin to viewing the sun from only a few thousand miles away. Rosy Parlane's rich and vibrant pulses eminate and exude away from a center boiling over with the unspeakable. Divided into three pieces, Iris sounds like the universal Om hissing in through subjective ears, playing with the phenomenology of experience, and coming to rest in the form of a vision: perhaps a certain place or a certain time will flash back from memory one listen and, on another, my mind will simply blank and release itself from troubles and worries. The bulk of the music isn't all zen-like meditations on existence, though. "Part 2" hums and modulates away over the organic sounds of glass, chains, and textured friction washing by in an organized concerto for metal surfaces and brooms. "Part 1" rolls along slowly, almost like a lullaby, until the processed sound of white noise begins raining down over the calm. Raining is a completely apt description; Parlane manages to create a digital rainfall out of bits of white noise that, while going to sleep, had me wanting to get up and check if clouds were rolling in. Iris naturally moves into the melodic at times; layers upon layers of sound will suddenly match up in perfect sequence to create moments of strange beauty. The layers drift by eachother eventually and return to the unknown, but these brief forays into familiar territory are welcome when they happen and never break the trance of the drones create. "Part 3" is perhaps the most stunning of the three pieces and the most carefully constructured. The rhythmic popping and snapping mix perfectly with the organ flows passing above and beneath them. Strangely enough, this last track was an exotic and ominous soundstrack to a drive into the city - the music can be heard a thousand different ways and different people I've played this for have described entirely different visuals. The end of the record runs away like the sound of a projector at the end of the film roll - it's a movie where everyone sees something different and where the images stay unbroken in the mind for days to come. [Lucas Schleicher]

Aquarius (USA):

While perhaps not as prolific as his former partner Dean Roberts (they played together in the Sonic Youth inspired avant-rock trio Thela), Rosy Parlane has quietly constructed a quite impressive career himself. Iris is Parlane's third solo album, after a couple of releases on his own Sigma Editions imprint and a collaboration with Christian Fennesz. In many ways, Iris echoes the recent Fennesz masterpiece Venice, as DSP filters perpetually spiral samples into immersive drone constructions. Parlane's Iris is less focused on the suggestions of melody and more concerned with textural abstractions which softly shower upon the composition's minimal foundation. Spread across three extended pieces, Iris is a bleary low key album, supposedly crafted from organ, piano, and guitar, but you might not necessarily guess so. Parlane's digital treatment of those source materials renders almost all of the references to the original instruments unrecognizable: a series of monochromatic blurs of ambient sound quietly activated by distant mechanical whirrings and icy fragments that are just as fragile as they are cold. Certainly on par with the laptop intellect of Stephan Mathieu and Akira Rabelais.

All Music Guide (USA):

This is Rosy Parlane's first "major" release after a handful of albums on tiny labels (including his own Sigma imprint), and his strongest achievement to date. The music has now lost any trace of harshness (which was still present in 2001's Getxo) to adopt a soft, shimmering quality. Jon Wozencroft's predominantly blue photographs adorning the booklet aptly reflect the character of the music: calm, snugly warm, slightly sad or pensive. Once again Fennesz comes to mind, but a Fennesz stripped from his reassuring melodies and occasional harsh outbursts, leaving only the rich textures of filtered sounds. Iris is comprised of three pieces titled "Part One," "Part Two," and "Part Three," and they truly give the impression of a single work in three movements. Each piece establishes its mood immediately, then takes its time to evolve, giving the listener time to accept its inherent logic ? or to be oblivious to the stretched-out fade-ins and slow turns. "Part Two" is a delicate, ever-shifting cloud: you can decide to lay down on it and be carried or gaze into it to watch the fog currents interact, your eyes unable to reach the other side of the cloud, except in the very last few seconds, when the whole thing swiftly dematerializes. The human factor is very strong throughout the album; Parlane has planted in his music a sense of kindness that is too rare in this kind of music. Listeners who come to experimental electronica by way of Fennesz should seriously consider choosing Iris as their next step. [François Couture]

Urban Magazine (Belgium):

De Nieuw-Zeelander Rosy Parlane is hier te lande het best bekend door zijn releases op het Nieuw-Zeelandse avantgarde rocklabel Ecstatic Peace! onder het pseudoniem Thela en door zijn éénmalige live-collaboratie met Christian Fennesz op het Australische Synaesthesia. Het in een zeer verzorgde verpakking gehulde 'Iris' is zijn allereerste cd voor Touch en bevat drie ultraminimale composities van een onrustwekkende schoonheid, waarin vooral onderhuids nogal wat gebeurt. Langgerekte drones worden gecombineerd met allerlei ondefinieerbare, gevonden geluiden. Niet onaardig, aardig in zijn genre, maar bijlange niet wereldschokkend. [Peter Wullen]

Flux (UK):

Three Long tracks of immersive ambience from a New Zealand soundscaper form a lazy heat haze drift, a quiet end to a noisy day. It's made from guitar and piano loops, but it opens up floating worlds so digitally processed as to be unrecognisable from moon-based telescopes. This is just beautiful. [Graeme Rowland]

Grooves (USA):

A former member of Thela alongside Dean Roberts, Rosy has never quite achieved the same degree of recognition with his work on various obscure antipodean labels, but Iris ought to put a stop to that. These three lengthy tracks have something of the signature Touch sound - slowly enveloping environments of sound - but Parlane has really perfected it while sounding very distinctive. The album is characterized most of all by retsraint, building a critical mass often through implication and subtlety rather than any particular increase in volume. Iris is arranged into three parts. The first builds static into a slow-motion drone motif in a manner that sounds like it should become a constant build-up in intensity; surprisingly, it merely mutates in form rather than mass and slowly refines itself into a thin wisp of noise. The second part is the most gently ecstatic, a soft organ note accompanied by some glassy effects that fall away altogether by the midpoint for several minutes, until some similarly concentrated guitar feedback forms an interaction with the drone. Part three is the most pensive track, swelling like a flood tide before cutting to what could well be the run-out of a cinema reel. Such unpredictable organic fluid is endemic to Iris, making repeated listens highly rewarding. It's hard not to listen to this music in the context of the cover art (wintry images from northern Europe), as it has some of the gravity one associates with snow and ice clinging to window frames. But maybe that just reflects a desire for this sound to have some sort of meaning. As it is, Iris is a classic, a brilliant example of how more abstract sound fields can produce some truly heart-stopping, intensely deep music. [John Gibson]

tinymixtapes (USA):

Music -- and most often its abstract extensions -- seems to be intrinsically linked to its visual cover art as the image leads your ears down the music's path. At least that is true for Iris, the debut full-length from Rosy Parlane, that is accompanied with a gaze from a behind a windowsill over a wintry, whitewashed landscape.

Parlane, in Iris's three immersive, sprawling, and spacious tracks, blends the looped, stretched, and expanded sounds of a guitar, organ, and piano into drones of warmth and fluidity. Meticulously and effectively crafting his soundscapes with the deepest human sentiments, Parlane uses the emotions of melancholia and nostalgia as instruments that evoke sweetness and affection. With this tender touch of humanity, Iris is an experience unto itself as it creates aural environments to explore and waves of sound to get lost in for hours on end.

Sonically, Iris approaches the work of Venice, the recent masterpiece by Fennesz, as well as Keith Fullerton Whitman's ambient Playthroughs, with each of Iris' three sections featuring textured soundscapes and digital fragments that are as intricate and beautiful as each falling snowflake adorning the album's cover. But through the gossamer drones and shimmering layers of multihued sound, fractured melodies surface through the lush, endless loops that rewards repeated listens and long exposures. And, if you listen close enough, you can almost feel the frost melting off the window and Europe's vast winter expanse warming as Rosy Parlane's gentle, droning waves drip out of your speakers. [rynptts]


Sometime Christian Fennesz collaborator Rosy Parlane apparently constructs hos recordings from sample loops, pianos, guitars and field recordings manipulated by digital means, but these named sound sources are barely discernible in his expansive drone pieces. Unlike fellow Touch artist Chris Watson, Parlane offers no clues or signposts as to the origin of his found sounds, and tracks are simply labelled "Part 1", "Part 2" and "Part 3". Like much drone music, Iris frequently hints at eschatalogical concerns, but Parlane chips at his tracks' backbones with fidgety, skittering noise. The unidentified skree in "Part 1" is evocative of sounds as disparate as running water, close-contact recordings of ants devouring rotten fruit or static emanating from the sun. [David Hemingway]

His Voice (Czechia):

Monopolní tv?rce Touch obal? Jon Wozencroft v p?ípad? novinky novozélandského um?lce jménem Rosy Parlane vsadil na do modra lad?né a sn?hem prostoupené motivy (v bookletu se objevuje i zimní Kampa), obsah vylisovaných dat však asociaci vlezlého chladu nevyvolává. Tedy zpo?átku vlastn? ano. První z celkem t?í na albu p?ítomných kompozic Part 1 jakoby za?ínala táhlým rozmrazováním na ?as odstaveného homunkula, v n?mž se v ur?itý moment (v sedmé minut?) náhle znovu rozproudí datový tok, jenž postupn? stále více sílí a navzdory chaotickému uspo?ádání (hyperrychlé virové hemžení) se transformuje v podivuhodný rádoby déš? (ne sn?žení) digitálních kapi?ek, po jehož utichnutí a zklidn?ní na míst? z?stává op?tovn? funk?ní bytost schopná emocí – zpo?átku v pozadí utopené náznaky klávesových melodií pomalu vystupují na povrch až osi?í a devatenáctiminutová skladba skon?í. Part 2 uvádí libá, le? podivná smy?ka, jež za pomoci masy digismetí nejprve pomalu houstne, le? po chvíli se omezí jen na pr?b?žn? dále modulovanou a zeštíhlovanou základní kostru. Již prakticky konstantní zvuk se pak ovšem znovu probudí a nabalováním dosp?je až k vyvrcholení vyst?ídaném fází zklidn?ní. Nejnaléhav?jší a nejkratší (12 minut) Part 3 stojí na prohlubování jediného jímavého motivu, který se nakonec rozplyne v chr?ení technologické vody.
Rosy Parlane je laptopový hrá?, který odmítá propad do vod agresivního noise i hrátky s jednotlivými tóny. Rosy Parlane staví, pokládá vrstvy a mísí s cílem dosáhnout neopakovatelného souzvuku z?ásti nahodilých složek. Z digitáln? mnohdy k nepoznání p?etvo?ených klavírních, klávesových a kytarových zvuk? buduje dlouhé, poklidn? vyvíjející se p?íb?hy, jež ovšem vznikají až v poslucha?ov? mysli. Neusp?chaná evoluce skladeb jde ruku v ruce s gradací, která jim dodává hypnotický meditativní charakter a která je p?i dostate?né mí?e vynakládaného soust?ed?ní zárukou vtažení naslouchajícího do d?je. Dá se ?íci, že jediným možným zp?sobem poslechu Rosyho tvorby je absolutní odevzdání se tón?m, ponor do hudebního proudu. Zajímavé ovšem je, že po tomto kompletním odevzdání se v mysli paradoxn? následuje svoboda, pon?vadž hudba se poté stává jen jakýmsi vodítkem, jehož sm??ování ur?uje v nemalé mí?e sám poslucha?. Iris lze proto z tohoto pohledu chápat jako soundtrack k hlubinnému rozboru… vlastn? ?ehokoli, t?ebas sebe sama. Vid?t/slyšet tu tedy v podstat? m?žeme jak onen zmi?ovaný a vsugerovávaný chlad, tak i okamžiky h?ejivé spokojenosti. Hudba vylisovaná na disk z?stává beze zm?ny, avšak p?i reprodukci se stává pružným polotovarem schopným p?ijímat r?zné tvá?e. Tento pokus o vystižení povahy díla se však nevztahuje jen na tuto desku, ale obecn? na celý žánr, jehož je výte?nou ukázkou – abstraktního glitch ambientu. Rosy Parlane totiž spadá do specifické vlny digitálních tv?rc?, která – z?ejm? – respektuje ur?itá nepsaná pravidla: usilovné brán?ní se konkrétním reprodukovatelným melodiím a snadno identifikovatelným zvuk?m, nejednozna?nost ‚citového zabarvení‘, nepr?hlednost, užívání technologií k vymazání p?íliš ‚lidských‘ stereotyp?, ur?itý podíl náhody, d?raz na celkové vyzn?ní skladby p?ed soust?ed?ním se na jednotlivé sou?ástky a samoz?ejm? též úsilí o znemožn?ní hladké analýzy (díky n?muž z?stává tento pokus i p?es snahu recenzenta vícemén? neúsp?šným). Mnohozna?nost je p?edpokladem pro m?nivý subjektivní výklad, což lze u hudby tohoto ražení chápat jako obrovský klad. Parlanovi na záda dýchá Tim Hecker, Pimmon anebo Christian Fennesz – koneckonc? nato?ili spolu dv? skladby, jež se objevily na chutném ep Live vydaném u australského labelu Synaesthesia – nicmén? Rosy z?stává tak?íkajíc ‚o abstrakci dál‘. [Hynek Dedecius]

Touching Extremes (Italy):

Evoking past imageries while remaining confidently firm in its tracks, Rosy Parlane's music certainly has all the necessary tools to become an indispensable reference for everyone putting its money on the table looking for lasting emotions. Parlane builds muffled majesties at accessible level, so that one is not taken with force in order to understand; on the other hand, the slowly turning contrasts between stalling suggestions and concrete sources, often elaborated by a computer, generate a sense of safety that's never jeopardized, leaving all channels open until you reach a sort of submissive condition. The absolute best is the second movement, where music flows like small puddles covering a subtle stratum of sand; it's an island of meditative calm amidst mysterious intersections of currents, with extraordinary muted mirages coming out of colliding bodies. Ear pleasure is granted in every moment of the record, though. [Massimo Ricci]

Signal to Noise (USA):

Seemingly every critic commenting on Rosy Parlane?s latest disc of ambient electronica draws reference to Jon Wozencroft?s accompanying artwork. The cover photograph, a view of a snow-dusted garden bathed in the most mystical blue, is not only a fine piece of art, it provides perfect visual accompaniment to the sounds heard within. Iris is an exercise in slow motion, three 50 minute tracks that evolve lethargically, forcing the listener to settle in for the epic journey. And much like the wintry wonderland of the cover, the record has a chilly mysterious atmosphere. Parlane holds control over the record?s enveloping drones and pops like a master puppeteer, tugging a particular sound to prominence while sliding another softly from the stage. Even with the artist?s exactitude, the muted rings and chirps create a blurry beauty for the listener. The real treat (and one of the most draw-dropping moments in recent electronica) comes six minutes into ?part 1?, when the nocturnal hum is overcome by what sounds like a hail of digital diamonds, an ice storm of crystalline crackles and soft bursts of static. [Ethan Covey]

domino forum (Slovakia):

Novozélan_an Rosy Parlane za_ínal v avantgardnej rockovej kapele Thela, no od jeho aktuálnej tvorby ni_ rockové ne_akajte. Od ohlu_ujúcich bicích sa presunul k elektronickej hudbe a na svojom albume Iris podáva tri in_trumentálne kompozície nazvané jednoducho – Part 1, Part 2 a Part 3. Neprieh_adnú hmlu vrství slu_kami zvukov, ktoré sú bu_ „odchytené“ z prírodného sveta, alebo vytvorené v po_íta_i. Sám hrá na klavíri, organe _i gitare, no tieto tradi_né nástroje stavia na jednu rove_ s netradi_n_mi – so zvukmi da__ov_ch kvapiek alebo _umením lesa. Vzniká t_m imaginárna prechádzka zasne_en_mi kopcami a Parlane sa zara_uje k umelcom zastavujúcim _as. Náro_nému, no sú_asne ve_mi peknému a upokojujúcemu po_úvaniu dodáva punc umeleckého diela aj krásna fotografická sú_as_ bookletu od Jona Wozencrofta. Soundtrack k prvému tohtoro_nému sne_eniu je teda u_ na svete, sta_í len zapoji_ predstavivos_ a relaxova_. [Matej Lauko]

Dusted (USA 2004 review):

Like listening to a Nor’easter. On headphones. From inside a snowflake.

New Zealand Herald (NZ):

Watching an experimental musician such as Rosy Parlane perform can leave you wondering whether it is self-indulgence or absolute brilliance. There isn't much happening, but there's the most pristine noise - be it absolute calm or plain piercing. The tracks take an age to happen and most of the time little does happen. Or is it just because this type of music is so close to dance music that we automatically expect the beats to kick in and something to happen? Parlane is a teacher in the beautiful art of patience and Iris is an extraordinary listen. The shards of sound that pelt down on you are sharp enough to pierce your skin. At times it sounds like an iced-over windscreen that's cracking and melting on time delay. He makes it easy to imagine it unfolding in front of you. [Scott Kara]