On this, Dean Wilson's second outing as Illyah Kuryahkin, the overall tone is considerably lighter. The hand percussion has been replaced by programmed beats and much of the fuzz has been traded in for a smoothed out kind of sweep. It still sounds very organic, but you get the feeling Wilson managed a recording equipment upgrade. His hoarse whispered singing voice is used throughout, whereas he would occasionally drop it a little, or alter its pitch on Count No Count.

Things get off to a slow start with the passable, but more or less unmoving "Blackpower." Thankfully its follow-up number is a melodically rich pop song that, while sickly sweet, is somehow irresistible, particularly when he achingly turns an enigmatic phrase like "When the door swings wide, I hide." While not being the most interesting, it's probably the catchiest tune on here. The most fascinating tune on Thirtycabminute would have to be the intricately textured "Thomverlaine." After a fascinating opening with a surging, yet numbed, dance beat and snatches of piano the song pauses. The insistent beat re-emerges for a moody wave of a song that strings the preceding drifting elements into a driving whole.

Wilson's strength on this and his previous record is one of distillation. He rarely, if ever takes a wrong turn, and refuses to allow the understated quality of his approach to fall into predictability. The instrumental "Vaval" improves upon his previous album's instrumental selection with a stirring fusion of murky atmospherics and a breezy, bluesy saxophone vamp. The result is something out of an imaginary, futuristic, free-form film noir. The buried voice mail poetry (or "hermetic text," according to the liner notes) throughout is little more than additional atmosphere. But it works well, much like the static-flecked talk radio samples from the previous album.

The album is rife with fascinating textural touches, much like Kuryahkin's previous release. The only difference is this record is more subdued. And this, combined with the newly applied vocal stridency, makes for a release that could've used more tracks like the rocked-out "Hey," to break up the stridently mellow air of the proceedings. Wilson's tortured voice is decidedly atonal, as original as it is, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't grow tired of it on occasion.

"Waltz," a track reworked from Count No Count is improved upon, but the up-front placement of his scratchy pipes take away from it. It leads me to think Wilson could use his compositional strengths with a host of different singers for a project that would be infinitely more rewarding. There's no official word as to new material of yet, but there's enough substantial promise on this and his previous LP to suggest there's an iridescent masterwork in store for us.

1. Blackpower
2. Lotuspool
3. Takinatrain
4. Thomverlaine
5. Sixchannels
6. Vaval
7. Everest
8. Howidied
9. Aurora
10. Hey
11. Waltz

Count No Count
Arena Rock, 1996
rating: 4/5
reviewer: willcoma


Why so ignored? I got to know! When pointless shit like Ada or Patrick Wolf are held up by the indie press like the next beacons in innovative, exciting pop music, I don't see what makes Illyah Kuryahkin so unmentionable. I may not go to his music on a day-to-day (or hell, even week-to-week) basis, but as I listen now, I'm no less reeled in than I was the first time I heard the song "Crow" on a CMJ sampler. These comps were a big part of my exposure to different sounds back when there was little else for me but whatever 120 Minutes decided to serve up in terms of interesting music alternatives. "Crow" burned its way into my psyche. I'd never heard anything like it.

And it took me a damn long time to find this album, but it was worth the wait. I can confidently say, some years later, this record is an undiminished treat of understated, poignantly distorted trance. Some of the elements are perhaps familiar; fuxzy guitars, phased, incidental ambience and blues, but they are strung together for a listening experience unlike any other. The percussion is largely up-front recorded hand drums and shakers, while Illyah mastermind Dean Wilson's singing is airy yet muffled. The vocals may be what gives some listeners pause. I'm somewhat taken with them, but their harshly whispered tones might be grating for some ears.

There is no shortage of "acquired taste" acts that've come and gone, but I feel this one has been unfairly ignored. Considering that Six Organs of Admittance are receiving significant attention, I'd like to steer fans of Ben Chasny's rough hewn, eastern-tinged explorations to Count No Count. There is a similar fascination with fret board-scrape/choked string textures on display, particularly on the slow burning "Empire."

While not exactly classic, the music on this CD is certainly singular. And if you're susceptible to contemplative, orange sunset acid-folk, you won't regret picking this up. It's mysterious and melodically rich, though some of the lyrics may leave something to be desired. I don't know what Wilson is doing now, but it's a shame he didn't get the recognition he deserved for making some of the most intriguing sounds of the past decade. Despite a seven-minute truth-in-advertising bit of nothing called "Fuzzball," those listeners with adventurous tastes can do no wrong in picking this dense wonder of an album up.

1. Romeo
2. Marooned
3. What You Did Say
4. Bulletproof
5. Empire
6. Sundial
7. Fool
8. Novocain
9. Fuzzball
10. Ballade
11. Crow
12. Waltz
13. Daddy
14. Marble