sigma editions
'CC', the 'A' side of Minit's first vinyl release on Sigma Editions, develops through a slow and deliberate build up of subtly differentiated tonal layers. The need to listen with close attention is established in the first seconds through a scarcity of elements: simply a single regulated pulse, clear and insistent, repeated amid a barely perceptible atmospheric hum. The track then unfolds through a sub-division of this originating loop, quietly branching into a harmonic fifth and double time. And in this, different rhythms emerge and submerge, taking predominance in turns, although it is not clear whether this predominance is occurring within the music, or is determined by your own shifting attentions or your position within the stereo field. Eventually comes a twist: out of this fabric of accidental and partial cadences springs a piece of deliberate melody. Its beauty is such that you may begin to look forward to this moment when the notes harness themselves into elegant poignancy, in the same way that you wait for the chorus in a pop single. In contradistinction to how one would listen to stripped-back minimalism, actively; here you wait in passive expectation for particular sensations to be delivered to you. Study any object which has an element of ornament, and the same relation would be revealed: examining the scratches and anomalies on the smooth silver band of a ring, for example, you come to the emerald or the sapphire. Suddenly there is a more familiar beauty laid before you. It is embedded in the whole, but is of a different nature: its nature is to seduce. Minit craft enchanting sonic objects. These objects are not difficult in the traditional 'assault' form. The coherent movement between parts which ask for different kinds of attention from the listener, gently fractures 'listening' and signal what is rich and unusual and experimental, not only about this track, but about Minit's whole musical project.

On the flip side, 'BB' pulls a startling, almost unimaginable sequence of emotional strings. It comes quickly to fullness, and after a minute or so the orchestral density has reached a wondrous shimmering crescendo, from which it descends with immense gravitational force. The plummet is seemingly endless. When you don't suppose it can go down further it does, and all the while transforming. It becomes sparser, but also murkier, fuzzier, less distinct. Slowly, what was previously sustained begins to waver, becoming erratic and feeble. The internal dynamics of the piece are almost more bodily than musical - pulses, flows, quivers, tremors. The world seems to be retreating as it does when consciousness is slipping away. The downward motion is so long and gradual that you become lost in it, less sure of its direction. Has it pulled up? plateaued? At some point it does steady into suspension, and fills out mid-air with a singing high pitch and random percussion. However, the mood is still one of the depths. If one was trying to imagine the unconscious of instruments and sounds they posses innately rather than those they produce when played, 'BB' might help.

- Anna Sanderson, 2000
CAT. #
The always-reliable Sigma Editions label returns with another hypnotic bit of epic minimalism...[The A side]has definite wall-moving potential, as the minimal amount of change produces all sorts of time-lapse, mind-melting tricks. The loops slowly submerge into a deep ocean of bass, and the track ends as the clicks and pops coalesce into and achingly beautiful melody. An exhausting but rewarding journey. The B-side offers a floating organ-like drone flying with the same angel wings Klaus Schulze once used. The darkest Schulze is not a bad reference point, though with the addition of dubbed out far-away detonations. Again, either someone's leaning on the tape reel or time really is collapsing in on itself as I spin this flawless record.
- Carlos Pozo, Angbase, Issue 6, 2002