Music

'Section Two'

'Section Four'

Magazine Articles

Of Mary's Blood

Transgression

Eternal Ghosts

Pilgrim

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A baffling and awe-inspiring three-quarters of an hour long trip into Bowers’ head.

Can music really spark something new inside the listener? It is an interesting and somehow disappointing fact that the apostles of innovation have always concentrated on the outward view and on connotational factors – while music doesn’t, in fact, exist, anywhere but in the ear of the beholder. The question should be awarded renewed interest as Graham Bowers has returned to the scene after a lengthy, health-related, absence and his back catalogue is available once again. While on the surface of things, there is nothing previously unheard on the triptych of “Mary’s Blood”, “Transgression” and “Eternal Ghosts”, it is its profound effect on the psyche that makes it truly unique.

As a matter of fact, when this album came out almost exactly ten years ago, it looked like experimental music had a new figurehead. There was not one mag in the scene that could afford itself the luxury of not featuring it and all that did were hard pressed to put their feelings into words. Which is easy to understand. Still today, “Of Mary’s Blood”, a three-quarters of an hour long trip into Bower’s head, leaves one baffled and awestruck. Divided into three segments, “Always was”, “Always is” and “Always shall be”, this composition sails away on a wing and a whisper into an unsettling “terra incognita”: A grayish drone, like the wind intermittently touching a cymbal, greets the listener, as do the sounds of cars speeding by and of a railway crossing in the glaring heat. Thick machine sounds build up, a street scene on a blue-skied afternoon, frenzied voices and wailing noises dissolve into almost jungle-like atmospheres and suddenly, after almost ten minutes, there is this melody full of sorrow and despair that braces itself like a cloud of dust over the smoldering embers of a pitch-black apocalyptic scrap yard. There is an open middle part, which leaves the mind to wander, until a finale with clustered chords by an untuned piano and bizarre orchestral samples take control again. Even the extracts on Bower’s homepage can only hint at what to expect here, which may well be a reason why, even despite the raving reviews, this was not exactly an instant smash-hit. But the difference between the often random and somehow caricaturesque offerings by some post-industrial sound artists and this flowing, seamless composition without an ounce of slack and a gripping compulsion could not be more apparent.

Of course it’s Dark Ambient, Drones, the Avant-garde, Free Jazz, Industrial, Cut-Up and Electronica all blended into one, all-encompassing cross-over spectacular. But then again, it’s none of these as well. A decidedly different and superior machine has emerged from the red-hot smelter, testing and twitching its half-human, half-machinoid muscles in avid anticipation. The mind can only take you to so many places and it is music like “Of Mary’s Blood” that extend the limits of your creativity to unknown heights.
By Tobias Fischer

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Ligeti would have been proud.

It is hard to imagine what Graham Bowers’ music would sound like if he had received a classical musical education. Maybe he wouldn’t even have considered moving into composition at all and remained a painter, sculptor and experimental movie creator – all of which disciplines in which he has displayed a considerable talent as well as an immediately recognisable handwriting. For it is not the typical abstractions of some of his colleagues he is after but the direct linking of sound to real life events. On “Transgression” he has taken that idea even further than on its predecessor “Of Mary’s Blood”.

Which goes slightly against the usual logic of trilogies, in which the second part is usually the one in which the plot settles down after the slow unfolding of the opening and before the tedious unravelling of the various story lines toward the end – measured in terms of how most people rate music, this album is even more “out there” and “difficult” than his earlier work, which is saying quite a bit. But then again, an objective “snapshot” of where humanity stands today combined with a highly personal account of his raising in a Christian society and all of the accompanying oddities was never going to be a radio hit. As Bowers puts it “I am an atheist, but the product of Christianity, so for me a good starting point was the fertilisation of Mary, with the introduction of 23 chromosomes from God almighty to join the 23 chromosomes waiting in the egg within her earthly body.” Of course, that will not be where you start as a listener, nor do you even have to regard this as an intellectual exercise or – heaven forbid – programme music. Rather, “Transgression” is about change and how it is brought about and if you just hold tight to your seat, you will be able to witness this very mutation as you simply follow this almost fifty minute long continuous track as it gushes like an out-of-control rollercoaster log on a wild water canyon through the outskirts of the composer’s mind. Musically, Graham uses both electronic and acoustic means, gluing them together in sometimes surreal and crass scenes. The opening section consists of a string crescendo, as if from an orchestra tuning up, with dissonant flutes obnoxiously whistling and trumpeting from the sides. As the harmonies and a rolling timpani prepare for an apocalyptic climax, a berserk electric guitar out of nowhere abruptly shreds all texture to pieces. The largest part of the middle then focuses on vocals. As incomparable as most of it may appear, Ligeti would have been proud and unable to withdraw his attention from this associative moaning, wailing, whining, pleading, baiting, humming and even singing or dissolving into deep, aspirated breaths, combined with the drunken babblings of a piano. As the music approaches the end, it turns more collage-like and layers various sounds in an oneiric musique concrete tightrope act. Throughout, Bowers proves to be a master of transitions, ripping listeners from one mood and placing them in the next with striking ease. Most of all however, he presents himself like a highly artistic master of ceremonies, who consciously uses the contrasts between the ecstatic and frenzied moments and the fragile interludes to create powerful effects.

There is a burlesque element in all of this, which coincides with his notion of an “Audio Theatre”. Naturally, Bowers will be aware of the fact that the pictures stimulated in the listener’s brain will not be hardcopies of his own, so the aim is rather to make the underlying development the key to understanding “Transgression” and of guarding the album’s three central terms by enigmatic but universal clauses: Choice, necessity and coercion. All of this sounds as though the record presents a challenge and to be honest: It does. But with his musical language approaching total idiosyncrasy, it is also a most rewarding and unforgettable one. Thank god for that lack of education.
By Tobias Fischer

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A brutal exorcism: Clustered choirs, textured cymbal pads and weird biomechanical structures.

The train speeds away into the heart of the night, with my gaze transfixed to the tracks. Darkness has swallowed the last glow of the day and all I can see is a small picture framed by the outer limits of the window, scantly lit by the lanterns outside. At first, each single track is clearly sperated from its neighbour and I am still able to distinguish even the most delicate splinters in the wood and each tiny stone in the bed between the deals. Then the machinery picks up speed, the surroundings fly by in a frenzied rush and everything blurrs into a grayish black picture of surreal intensity and nihilistic voidness. Ever faster we go, as I clasp my hands round my CD player, loosing myself in the sounds of “Eternal Ghosts”.

All good things must come to an end, but so must all things bad and frightening. If Graham Bowers really envisioned his first trilogy of works as a take on his real life, then he must have been both sad and relieved when it was over. Built like an epic saga, things kept growing darker and more claustrophobic with each volume, the arc of tension refusing to bend down again until the very last second. If “Of Mary’s Blood” was an astute and uniquely personal collage-world of harmony and naked sound and “Transgression” its bizarre and freaked-out mirror image, then “Eternal Ghosts” is a brutal exorcism. Metal hits metal in the first few seconds, intensifying and gaining volume until your ears hurt, but just before you turn the dial down, the whip stops for a second, dropping the listener into a stream of unwanted memories and mournful longings. The album is more coherent than its predecessors, yet simultaneously more heavy-hearted and unreal. Gray drones whisper and murmur in the back for almost the entire record’s duration, interspersed by clustered choirs, textured cymbal pads and weird bio mechanical structures, which may come as an aural equivalent to Bower’s background as an industrial designer. The elements flow in and out of each other seemingly by a will of their own, but of course carefully placed by their creator, whose mind, plagued by visions beyond his grasp, exerts a powerful tractor beam. Towards the end, timpani's rumble and almost inaudible flutes blow out of tune towards a grand finale, which refuses to materialise. Bowers has entered the realms of the untouchable with this album and dedicated it to “flesh and blood, body and spirit” as well as “worlds without end”. Contrary to Christian doctrine, the saints are not out to save, but to get him, but they are just as real. The fact that all source material stems from “organic” instruments seems to imply that this is by no means just a bad dream or a daydreamed fantasy – but that it could happen to you, too.

In a reply to our review of “Transgression”, Bowers remarked that he actually sometimes rued his lack of classical education, that he missed its magic and thought he had come closest to it with the last segment of “Eternal Ghosts”, when Peter Gallagher’s translucent and heavenly grand piano suddenly comes shining through a sun flood cloud and closes the chapter in an unexpectedly hopeful mood. It is the sole concrete moment of a journey full of metaphors but by no means the only magical one. Things haven’t always been easy for Bowers since then, but it was clear that the tracks were now leading into the light, his train leaving the tunnel of his fearful visions.
By Tobias Fischer

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No, this has NOT been done before: You will ‘Hear’ sculptures.

When I popped this CD into my brand new CD drive, I saw my tunes player coming up with the music and the Genre classification: Jazz. After listening, I can only say: No! Although there are, once in a while, jazz elements, there is no way at all to put Graham’s music into any specific category. And so I will not waste any time trying to do so.
“Pilgrim” is just a remarkable piece of music. Powerful and brutal at times, slow and sensitive at others, there is no way of putting it into a safe haven of any category, where everybody could relax and say: Yeah, I know, it is jazz, experimental music, electronics, drones or anything else the advantaged world has to offer. It’s really not that simple. Here, a much greater experiment is taking place. This amazing music is published by Red Wharf under the brand of ‘Music – Painting– Sculpture’. And indeed, this music is crossing borders in a way I can not recall having encountered before. Looking at the booklet inside the CD you’ll see sculptures. Listening to the CD, you will ‘Hear’ sculptures.

Graham Bowers already is known for musical and artistic productions which go beyond the so called ‘That has been done before’. No, this has NOT been done before. Although the percussion part seemingly is pretty much what we have once heard, the whole structure is almost orchestral. No, do not think of classical examples. There is a big difference, brought up by the seemingly unstructured environment where all of this ‘pilgrimage’, or better the prelude to the ‘pilgrimage’, takes place. Once in a while, one might get distracted. But then again, a central theme can be detected.

You see, I contradict myself many a times in trying to get to the bottom of this work. I have to admit, it is very hard to describe it in any way, shape or form. What is going on with this piece of music? I will give it another try to make you understand, and this time I will try to use the literary way: Imagine, you’d walk into a large hall. It measures 300 feet in width, length and height. Everything is empty and dark. There is, however, one tiny spot of light, very far in the back from where you are standing. Then, in the background, you hear the steady beat of percussions, interrupted by some strange sounds. Very low sounds, swelling up once in a while, then again fading away. And while the music picks up, in the middle of the open air, a glistening light appears, just up there, 30 feet from where you are, somehow interwoven with a sudden fog, that fills the hall. And there, you recognize a sculpture. Two human bodies, it seems, constructed out of smoke, intertwined, you are not sure how, you keep guessing, and that strange music is coming in again, faint, loud, slow, powerful, very structured, and when the smoke sculptures dissolve in plain view, so does the music. Only to pick it up again, a few seconds of your and my life later, and again accompanied by another smoke sculpture in the air, where I stand in awe and just watch and listen….

This is the theme of ‘Pilgrims… A Prelude of a Pilgrim in Progress’. At least, this is it for me. I could say a lot about the masterful play of instruments and so on and on… I would probably be right in praising its virtues. But for me, even if I’d be alone with my opinion about this music, all alone on the face of the earth, I’d still have to say that it is very humane, very much about human life and life in general. This music is life, the life of a believer, and the life and hopes of many believers. Believe in what? I don’t know, and I leave that question open for each of you for your own sake. With this composition and release, Graham Bowers has created an extraordinary piece of art, that should be called an artistic revolution. At least, that’s what I am calling it.
By Fred M. Wheeler
Created by Tobias Fischer

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Music Press Reviews

Of Mary's Blood
Transgression
Eternal Ghosts
Pilgrim

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Of Mary’s Blood

Eskhatos.   (USA).
Bowers manages to create a profound achievement with  “Of Mary’s Blood” which heralds, not only times to come, but all of the sensations and violent chaos of the way time “quickens” as we rush madly toward the inevitable. “Of Mary’s Blood” is the first in a musical trilogy revolving around man’s life in the latter part of the 20th century. The title of the album refers to the Virgin Mother of the Christ and in so doing, implies birth through blood, salvation through suffering, and life through loathsome and blackened death. Bold, monumental and genuinely fraught with dark inertia and terrifyingly abstract and merciless creativity, Bowers controls and contorts his medium while using the listener’s own insecurities as instruments in this epic oeuvre. There are staggering moments of silence on this one vast and monstrous Boschian track which is punctuated by darling echoes of piano playing in some lost hallway and uneasy voices shuffling in the foyer. The music suggests, as does the inside cover, an unrelenting and catastrophic descent of what was, what is, and what will always be. Part two, “Transgression”, and the final part “Eternal Ghosts” will be eagerly awaited. Blessed are they who inherit the earth.
Ares Solis

e/i   (USA)
All spiritualized essence and pagan ritual aside, this long, single track disc is a well-crafted work of electronically-realized, Wagnerian intensity. Dark and brooding, sounds resembling processed acoustic string ensembles and other antipodean hallmarks of classical symphonia seethe beneath foreboding synthetic waves and the clamor of agonized beings rummaging about. Evoking Dali-esque figures and situations, Bowers and his associates realize that experimentalism needn’t be compromised solely of disenfranchised noise, unlike their thematic cousins, Nurse with Wound, whose music this work not only mirrors but often eclipses.
Darren Bergstein

Audio Drudge.   (USA)
This work has garnered a fair amount of positive press and rightly so. Bowers ventures forth with a dazzling palette of sounds that combust and converge like broad brush strokes from a thousand blended colours. Forever in motion, it dances and sways like an endless stream of surreal consciousness, tones suspended in mid-air hanging precariously over an abyss of clangs, bows, and scrapes. Found sounds and other indistinguishable noises exude a dreamlike, bordering on nightmarish, quality, while unique atmospheres provide brisk dynamics and tickle the nerve endings. The cohesiveness and skillfully constructed strength of the sounds obscures what is generally a random and abstract creation. Sounds align themselves in strange, geometrical quagmires and configurations then come together as a solid writhing mass, only to break apart and dissipate into an infinite void. Ground breaking work that’ll have your auditory system demanding an explanation.
Jason Mantis

Tans der Rosen   (Belgium)
There has been a lot of praising reviews of Bowers’ debut and ours can do nothing but confirm and emphasize the great intrinsic value and extraordinary beauty of this composition. Bowers breaks with all that is academic and conventional, in a composition that planes over a wide variety of sculptured musical landscapes in a far archaic past. The music is very emotional and very tense, sometimes with a diabolical edge, and slowly pushes the listener towards the yawning chasm of unwanted memories. It is an intense and unworldly creation dominated by dark rumbling sounds, abstract noises, scratching violins, disturbing piano playing and distant voices. Intriguing and disturbing at the same time; you cannot make up your mind whether you would like to lean back and try to relax, or sit up straight and scrutinize every slightest detail. A great soundtrack to man’s alienated life on earth.
Qa’Taari. 

EB   (Germany)
A piece like a radical work of modern literature, Bowers is connecting avant-garde, new music, ambient, synthesizers and conventional instruments to an impressive montage of acoustic snapshots. “What ever is born or created at this moment in time has the qualities of this moment in time” says Jung who is quoted by Bowers. However Bowers views past, present and future as elements of one “direction”, directly connected and acting upon each other in a sort of continuum, being accompanied by further elements of physical, spiritual and psychological “quantities” as components which are constantly exchanging.  In this work, this philosophical background finds its expression on a mere musical level.  The elements, which in the beginning are apparently in a random order, grow stronger in the course of the composition, while drawing wider circles at the same time.  Disturbing, everyday noises like sirens, the hammering of machines, ticking clocks, trains and lorries, weird sounds from the filed of repressed memories more and more are being transformed into a fascinatingly structured global harmony which builds an inner balance between dark noise worlds and ‘ambient’ floating sounds without becoming smoother or more one dimensional but as a consequence of a cleverly arranged change of the habits of listening. 
Yvonne Brogi.

Stride.   (UK)
Bowers allows his music space to breathe in this 46 minute composition (ostensibly divided into three sections, but with invisible joins). Inspired and accompanied by a triptych of Bowers’ own paintings - sinister, insect headed humanoids gesturing against a matte-black background - it attempts to provide “a musical and pictorial expression of the physical forms of spiritual fragilities and strengths”. It does so in a musical language that is familiar from the work of AMM and Nurse With Wound, along with classical precursors like Xenakis, but  Bowers and his collaborators have come up with something fresh and listenable. The complexity of this composition defeats a verbal paraphrase, although there is a general movement from high density to low; from the scraping of chthonian stringed instruments to a delicate, percussive piano; and from a mood of tragedy to one of comedy (witnessed by the final bars, which sound like something out of a musical hall). The diversity and energy of current musical output is indicated by this CD, surfacing unexpectedly out of the peace and quiet of rural Anglesey.
Norman Jope.

Audion.   (UK)
Extraordinary, powerful and strange music this, by an artist and sculptor from Anglesey, North Wales. Really, it would be unfair to pigeonhole Graham’s music as Nurse With Wound - like, though there are comparisons, notably the Homotopy to Marie era, and even more so the spooky abstractions of  Sema, but more than that, this is an unfocused and compelling soundscape work that seems to use all the gadgetry and techniques possible, from musique-concret techniques through to highly advanced digital processing. Vivid, but as dark and strange as the images that adorn the cover.
Alan Freeman. 

Direction Music.   (UK)
This magnum opus composed by Bowers and performed by him, Peter B. Gallagher and Mark J.Porter encompasses a massive and inspired sonic canvas using electronically treated / processed / enhanced and modulated instrumentation comprising autoharp, hammer dulcimer, piano, violin, saxophones, recorders, electric guitar, bass and percussion in the main. This is highly charged and emotive avant-garde electronic / electroacoustic music of the highest calibre, dark, brooding and disturbing at times, uplifting and lyrical at others. It is a potent and expressive work always demanding of the listener’s attention as it conjures up a vast array of powerful (sometimes menacing, sometimes bizarre, sometimes sublime, and sometimes surreal) imagery. Xenakis/Varese meet Nurse With Wound/Lustmord ? - maybe - but really this innovative music shouldn’t (can’t) be so flippantly categorised. An extraordinary, fascinating and intriguing experimental composition (perfectly complemented by Graham’s paintings reproduced in the booklet) that is a prime and excellent example of contemporary/avant garde music at its very best. A classic and monumental album!
Peter Harrison. 

Deep Listenings.   (Italy)
For many years Graham Bowers has been committed to a varied range of artistic projects (music, painting, sculpture, choreography, mime and dance). “Of Mary’s Blood” marks his debut on record; it is a sound canvas which makes use of various stringed, wind, percussive and electronic instruments, all of which are used with great depth and skill. Dark and complex electro-acoustic structures alternate with moments that are more accessible; this is a powerful work which demands attentive listening and which engages the listener through sections that are strange, sublime and surreal. This innovative music cannot be compartmentalised, a fascinating experimental composition; in fact a classic.
Gianluigi Gasparetti

These Records.   (UK)Abstract, dark and nightmarish music with a soundtrack-like quality. Various treatments of instrumentation and indiscernible noises. Studio composition that cuts across genres. Compelling.
Howard  Jacques

Yahoo.   (USA)
“Of Mary’s Blood” was Bowers’ first release, and for me was a milestone in terms of a listening experience. From the very first note played and continuing throughout the work the instrumentation spoke in a different language to the norm, each instrument played in an unorthodox fashion, and in such a way so as to produce a definitive sound that signified and oozed personality and character. The dense layering of these ‘sounds’ creating an unworldly ambience, where everything is both remarkably confused and yet indefinably clear at the same time! The work, although a continuous track, is divided into three sections; ‘Always is, Always was, Always shall be’, reflecting and succinctly describing this phenomenon. It is an impossibility to predict what is coming next in the musical progression, and even after several listens I am still taken by surprise, there is a continuing restless, relentless intensity driving the work, transforming the listening experience into a spell-binding journey which is bizarrely both static and progressive. Bowers seems to effortlessly achieve and portray through his music, a form of ’balancing act’, shifting and compensating mood swings, drawing in, holding and repulsing the listener with a skill and awareness to human sensitivities not normally found in the realms of modern avant garde contemporary music.

“A musical and pictorial expression of the physical forms of spiritual fragilities and strengths” so says the sleeve note; a very apt description for the musical journey and the highly individual semi-abstract figurative images that are laid out in a linear fashion of the folding booklet. The fascinating artwork, like the music leaves one uncomfortably aware that (see the immortal Bob Dylan line from ‘Ballad of a Thin Man’) “…something is happening here, but we don’t know what it is; do we Mr Jones”
Arthur Hughes    

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Transgression

The Wire
I have to confess my lamentable ignorance of Bowers' previous work (1995 Of Mary's Blood), something that I will be shortly remedying after exposure to this enchanting release. Bowers' music oscillates between delirious abstraction and frenetically disorientating noise.

Points of comparison are elusive, but the works of David Jackson or Morphogenesis are conceivably valid parallels.  There seems to be something of the contemporary hermetic thinker in Bowers' vision. His music seems to have sprung fully formed from the deepest levels of the psyche. It conjures visions of atavistic resurgence or what Arthur Machin referred to as protoplasmic reversion. Truly Bowers seems to have evolved his own personal arcane and translated it into a music of terrifying beauty and potency.

Transgression seems to point towards music's pre-secular origins.  Bowers' compositions possess the lyrical beauty and the inscrutable mystery evident in the work of 20th century British composers Peter Warlock and John Ireland.  Numerous reviewers have emphasised the supposed 'dark' nature of Bowers' work; but that wouldn't be my interpretation. If we do enter the realm of the Qlipoth it is because such elements need to be integrated within one’s consciousness.  We are certainly not talking Dark Ambient here. 

In constructing his spellbinding music, Bowers utilises conventional instrumentation in a wonderfully unconventional way. Add to this musique concrete techniques and deft use of sound processing and what emerges is something very special and undeniably magical in nature. 

I eagerly await the next release in the series.
John Everall  

Audion
Transgression forms the second installment (or act) of a trilogy which began with Graham's debut album release Of Mary's Blood. Act 2 of a theatrical piece of sound; to quote the composer. Once more we are treated to inspired and potent imagery as Graham paints another powerful and vast surrealistic sound canvas from his dazzling palette of dark and light, sublime and bizarre, electronic and acoustic sounds, effects and textures. Of Mary's Blood implied birth and the dawning of consciousness and physicality. Transgression takes us further along life's path and expresses the worldliness (and frailties) of Man, in particular his ability to change, err, contravene, violate ....TRANSGRESS! .... "Through choice, necessity or coercion". We all transgress many times in many ways and the resulting repercussions have to be faced and dealt with as the outcome of each presents itself. It is these aspects of life that Graham has succeeded in portraying in this epic work.

The piece comprises many sections, or movements if you prefer, of varying mood and intensity subtly segued so far as to form an organic whole. The music works on two levels, implying one’s personal transgressions, their significance and consequences on one hand, and the intricacies and idiosyncrasies (absurdities even) of life on the other. One is exposed to a range of images and impressions as the piece progresses, an experience that can be likened to walking through different rooms in some large mansion. Each room has its own identity and ambience, however sensations and perceptions are carried from one to the next as if by filtration through opened doors. There are passages of almost overpowering menace, bizarre mutant vocalising (harking back to the finale of the album’s predecessor), sublime serenity via angelic (Vangelic?) synth chords, ghostly demonic and disembodied voices, darkly brooding meanderings, manic drumming, intense cello playing and climatic guitar/drum outbursts.
Thus, using electro-processing, modulation, vocal manipulation and other effects integrated with acoustic instrumentation (sax, clarinet, cello, piano, etc.) Graham has produced another work which firmly places him at the vanguard of the genre. Through transgression we attain progression!                                                                                                                                             
Peter Harrison (Direction Music)

Avant
This is the central panel of Bowers' multimedia triptych, following last year's Of Mary's Blood and to be completed by Eternal Ghosts. Each musical part is accompanied by a triptych of paintings, and there is also some sculpture involved somewhere, although no information is forthcoming as to what it might look like. If this is conceptual work, as one must assume that it is, it leaves its audience completely in the dark, forced to guess at its intentions, and this is no bad thing in an artworld which wants everything neatly packaged.

The piece begins on the kind of drone beloved of composers like Berio - a constant soundscape in which a lot goes on, and which returns in various forms throughout the work's fifty minutes. Different textures constantly emerge, and the first four minutes or so hold the attention rigorously, despite nothing much appearing to go on. Then, with the appearance of much more up-front percussion and excellent guitar, the piece builds to its first extremely violent crescendo. Bowers' work is all about this kind of psychological flagellation, using harsh timbres for dramatic effect in a kind of mental theatre of cruelty.

Surrealism is indeed, Bowers' modus operandi. The accompanying paintings are lumpy creations in the Dali school, all painted on black as if to signify images rising out of the subconscious.  The music, by association is already dealing with surrealist issues, issues about the subconscious and about memory, before a note hits the score paper.
The voices emerge free from the music almost imperceptibly, strongly reminiscent of Jewish cantillation but with a drifting, groaning quality and surrounded even when fully-formed by a halo of nightmarish effects. In groups, the sound becomes close to that of Ligeti's choral works, something nasty always seeming to emerge from the ensemble murk. Then, at around the halfway mark, the voices disappear again, giving way to instrumental passages which are intense but oddly ambient, like a soundtrack indicating that something bad is going to happen when no clues as to its nature appear on screen - exactly the kinds of connections one suspects, that Bowers wants to be making.

The surrealist project is further undergirded by the use of familiar sounds, whether they be little samples from classical recordings or, near the end, what might be a child's plastic trumpet. Bowers is helped in all this by his long standing connections with music for the theatre, and the approach and many of the techniques transfer easily.  Transgression is a work which repays close listening, and there is precious little music out there which, after it has finished, leaves you a little afraid to go to the bathroom without switching on the light.
Richard Cochrane

Fourth Dimension
Outstanding second album by painter, sculptor and composer, Bowers. Aided by six players, a near 49 minutes weaveworld of swollen, sometimes perfectly displaced sound falls into view behind a mist-shrouded forest of entangled instrumentation. Shimmering one moment and taut the next, the music writhes with an otherworldly purpose purely of its own design. Whilst one can note that the organic flow draws similarities to the work of other recent sonic shapeshifters, Transgression overtly charts a dramatic course more often found in the avant-garde realms of modern classical composition.
Indeed, there's an energy behind Bowers' music that, for once succeeds in sucking the life out of the many genres probably responsible for it. And well, if that's not a recommendation, I don't know what is.                                                                                                                                                                         
Richo          

Quick Edge Music
I was introduced to the music of Graham Bowers last year when I had the pleasure of hearing his debut CD,
‘Of Mary’s Blood’. That work continues the first installment of a trilogy, the second part of which is ‘Transgression’.

What becomes apparent on listening to this new recording is that it isn’t Of Mary’s Blood - Part 2.
Whilst their subject matter may be similar in tone, the two projects have been approached differently, both sonically and musically. ‘Real’ instrumentation has been used unashamedly, and apart from the obvious use of electric guitar, I feel the overall organic feel of the music has not been compromised.

As a practising musician myself, what I find particularly refreshing, somewhat paradoxically, is the inconsistency of the pulse and the apparent lack of cohesion between the different instrumental passages, ‘In the pocket’ is not the key-phrase here! This is a major ingredient of the work, and as such, adds to the tension and feeling of ill ease which challenges the listener throughout. (For a typical example of this, I refer you to the ‘lunatics have taken over the asylum’ segment half way through - very strange!) 

There is so much happening in the mix that, with repeated listenings, the different elements come to the fore with varying degrees of intensity, thereby leading to a multitude of listening experiences. A spontaneous reaction to this CD would, no doubt, include such adjectives as dark, brooding, moody etc..., but that would be a superficial verdict. I have discovered that with time, it is possible to glean much more positive feelings from this work. After all, isn’t that the point of the exercise?  We transgress only to find ourselves compelled to make the best of the consequences. 

I look forward to hearing the closing chapter of this intriguing project.                                                                         
Mark Porter

Yahoo (USA)
“Transgression” is Bowers’ second release, and it was after buying this and reading the press release which accompanied it, that I was informed that there was to be a third release entitled “Eternal Ghosts” and that the three works were to form a ”Trilogy”.  This information was quite useful, as when I first listened, the expectations that I would be hearing a similar format of musical sounds and arrangements to “Of Mary’s Blood” were quite shockingly dashed aside. Although the work is a masterpiece within its’ own right, its’ central position within the other two works adds yet another dimension to it.

The approach to the use of the instruments and their positions within the arrangements is completely different, or is it? it certainly appeared so on the first listening, but less so, now that I am more familiar with the way Bowers works. The intensity of the ambience at any given moment in time is more focused, which in many areas of the work became so potent that a feeling of discomfort is undeniably felt along with a nagging urge to look around to check that one is still alone. The power of the build up and the insatiable climatic resolution of the opening 10 minutes is absolutely unique in my listening experience, leaving me rather nervous as to what might happen next. Quite unexpectedly, it is a long sinuous, twisting, heavily layered vocal chant, at times guttural, at times sweet, but at all times saturated with an overpowering sadness, with the exception of the final phrase that has overtones of optimism.

The following chaotic section has all the hall marks of Commedia del Arte, encompassing all the pathos and patheticness of mankind’s naivety and fragility. It makes reference to the final section of “Of Mary’s Blood”, but pushes this reference nearer and nearer to the ‘edge’ in a cacophony of nonsense, which then, just as dreams shift in their unpredictable way, becomes overlaid with an unusually beautiful melodic motif that wanders off into a multiplicity of layered sounds that hark back to “Of Mary’s Blood”.

The finale of the work is yet another surprise, a fractured, incredibly powerful piece of dis-jointed ‘hard-rock’, where rhythms counter, cross, and unify and musical phrases never quite resolve until one glorious moment, which for me, and maybe others is held for too short a time, but that is what Bowers’ music is about, as the text in the booklet states “Change by the exercise of will through choice, necessity and coercion”

All in all an excellent and classic album that illustrates that Graham Bowers is much more than a ‘one album wonder’
Dave Colyer

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Eternal Ghosts

Audion
This album completes Graham’s vast and inspired trilogy which began with Of Mary’s Blood and continued with Transgression. The first implied birth and the dawning of consciousness/physicality, the second worldliness and frailties. Here his musical depiction of the spiritual and psychological progression of humankind is developed further to portray the attaining of ‘Maturity’.

Past experiences, deeds, choices, paths taken (transgressions!) are reviewed and reflected upon. Their consequences are the EternalGhosts that come to haunt (and taunt!) the soul. The inevitable ‘Reckoning’ is at hand. The bed has been made - it now has to be slept in!

‘Which is, Which was, Which is to come’.......states the insert notes......’Of flesh and blood, Body and spirit, Worlds without end’. In this 50 minute monumental piece of music Bowers displays again his amazing compositional skills and once more uses a refulgent palette of sounds (electronic/ acoustic, sombre, sublime/grotesque) to expound this devastating climax to his tripartite magnum opus.
Passages of ghostly chanting and murmuring weave in and out of thunderous drumming sections. At times a saxophone screams or an electric guitar wails demanding recognition in a darkly brooding, almost claustrophobic soundscape. ? The mood swings from harsh and abrasive to intense and emotive and back again.  Here and there some small relief from the overall nightmarish and demonic montage shines through as (almost) sublime cello and piano chords attempt to manifest themselves, however, before long the omnipresent darkness overshadows them and the nightmare returns.

The actual finale to the piece comes as rather a surprise. Instead of the thunderous climactic ending that one would expect considering what has gone before Graham presents us with a beautifully wistful/bittersweet piano melody that appears to hang shimmering in the air before gently fading to silence. It poses the question, is this an expression of the attainment of Inner Peace or is it a note of resignation to one’s fate

This is an extraordinary and utterly compelling work. Innovative, fascinating and richly rewarding. Bowers and his associates have produced a most satisfactory conclusion to a monumental trilogy that stands as a landmark in recent experimental/avant-garde music.
Peter Harrison  (Direction Music)

Audion - continued

Yes Peter, I really agree with your ‘ extraordinary and utterly compelling work’.  But exactly what is it like? Myself, I can’t relate to the so-called concept behind this. From what I gather, it’s all a bit convoluted and pseudo-religious. The cover art evokes a better image of the music, and visa-versa.
There’s a theme to it all, especially as each disc is a trilogy within a trilogy, with ‘acts’ and ‘flashbacks’ etc. But that’s all normal in a symphonic opus. I prefer to let the music speak for itself, and this speaks volumes.

Okay, this is weird and extreme. But, I imagine Peter’s description of ‘harsh and abrasive’ would scare many off, expecting an intense din along the lines of Merzbow. Challenging it is, but it amounts to rock aesthetics laid against dissonance, resulting in an abstract musical/sonic piece of art. How Eternal Ghosts opens is as if Stephen Stapleton had been given free reign to re-edit Xenakis, with what sounds like a cacophony of Kluster and early Tangerine Dream. Unnerving (but never nasty or unlistenable), an electronic Dumitrescu almost!  There’s an underlying ‘melodic’ edge and carefully thought-out composition to all of Graham’s work, saving it from becoming inconsequential (like much Hafler Trio for instance) as everything falls together, logically (sometimes surprisingly) becoming part of the bigger picture. Hearing this, I can now see the logic to the previous disc Transgression (which sounded imbalanced before), With Of Mary’s Blood being the ‘yin’, this disc Eternal Ghosts the ‘yang’, and Transgression the confused world between. Well, that’s how I see it. It amounts to Eternal Ghosts possibly being the finest of all three, not least for those liking weird rock forms, with some really nice tortured guitar amidst spectacular use of echo effects and studio trickery.  A culmination that links back to the start of the trilogy. The section before the ‘beautifully wistful bittersweet piano melody’ which Peter refers to is virtually a reprise to the opening of the first disc of the trilogy, linking the circle. Very clever, eh?
Alan Freeman

Quick Edge Music
The final installment of Bowers’, as yet untitled triptych, has been eagerly anticipated since hearing Of Mary’s Blood and Transgression (parts one and two, respectively),­­­­­--­­ Eternal G­­­hosts, continues the process of self-examination which began with those intriguing works, but ultimately completes the ‘cycle of life’, forcing us to confront that single inescapable certainty - death itself. This we are challenged to do in the light of our modern materialistically sophisticated, yet spiritually barren existence. Nowhere is this more potently evoked than in the vocal passage a minute or so into the piece, where the despairing quality of the voice gives the impression of a soul in turmoil, frantically searching for answers that will, ultimately, remain undiscovered. Interestingly, this is the antithesis of the ninth to twelfth century plainsong where the quiet tranquility of Gregorian chant was a reflection of a steadfast adherence to spiritual faith. Death was seen merely as a transitionary state, leading to eternal life, and, as such, was nothing to be feared.
Quasi-religious motifs occur at various points throughout the piece, such as bell-like arpeggios, and what sounds like a segment of the Credo from a Catholic mass.  The, by now, familiar Bowers trademarks are all here in abundance including the use of very low synth drones, wildly percussive guitar and some very effective dissonant Cello playing.  However, the overall feel of the piece is conveyed through the use of voices.  
Whether by employing massively contorted, guttural moans, banshee wails or relatively clean Singing. Bowers succeeds again in extending his sonic tendrils into our souls, probing and teasing until the shells that have been so carefully built up around our most primitive fears are stripped away, leaving us naked and vulnerable with nothing but the dreadful truth staring us in the face.
This really is powerful, thought-provoking material which warrants careful study.  Set aside an hour and let Bowers work his magic on you.  With the completion of this trilogy, I wonder which direction his next project will take?
John Rafferty

The Wire
After Of Mary’s Blood and Transgression comes Eternal Ghosts, the culmination of Graham Bowers’ ambitious trilogy. Reviews have compared his work to early Nurse With Wound pieces, but Bowers’s chance meetings involve less blatant collision, as the collage inclines to dreamlike homogeneity. More accurate comparison might be made with Boris Murashkin’s ‘bio-energetic music’ or Herbert Distel’s radiophonic pieces. Distel’s La Stazione (1990) leant itself to an analogy with the unnerving canvases of De Chinco; Bowers supplies his own paintings; Dali like, engaging arcane rituals with spermatozoid forms receding from view.

The cavernous soundscape contained on Eternal Ghosts is heavy with reverberation, most of the sonic events occur in the middle distance, shrouded in indistinctness. Occasionally something happens nearer to home, a voice intones, a clarinet wails, a cello resonates, an electric guitar is beaten or rattled, waves of percussion erupt and subside. Identifiable instrumental soundings emerge from the wash, and then fade back into acoustic anonymity. It is the persistence of this work, its monolithic aspect, that makes it effective. It offers a distinctive, unsettling environment for its 50 minute duration, but it is by no means a space in which to feel at home. As evocations of the uncanny; the trilogy of CD’s have unquestionable power.                                             
Julian Cowley

Yahoo (USA)
“Eternal Ghosts” is the third and final musical release of the “Trilogy”. In my previous reviews of “Of Mary’s Blood” and “Transgression” I mentioned the word ‘surprise’ many times in relation to the listening experience, well surprise, surprise, I mention it again. It is almost impossible to predict what you are going to hear the first time you listen to Graham Bowers’ music, even if you are familiar with his other work, but what I can say is that what you do hear; love it or hate it,  is ‘CLASS’, it has substance, it has integrity, it has quality. There is no padding, every note you hear has a value, whether it be a solitary sound, a composite part of an ambient layer, or a contributing musical voice. When I first played this album, my reaction and response was that this was the best of the three in the “Trilogy”, it is truly a magnificent musical work. All those magical elements of musical expression that were introduced  in “Of Mary’s Blood” are here in abundance, but with a nuance of difference and it is precisely this difference, this ability to model and mold the way that the music is heard and presented that sets him apart.  I am aware that I haven’t mentioned the instrumentation used in any of the reviews I have written, and the reason for that, is it is almost irrelevant, the instruments in Bowers’ music are makers of sound, a parallel to paint and the respective colours in oil painting or watercolour, the sounds are molded and sculpted separately and together to form some form of vehicle or catalyst to promote an emotional response, whether it be a barrage of composite sounds or a delicate motif, or anything in between. I know from corresponding with Graham Bowers that he favours acoustic instruments to obtain his raw material, and there is plenty of evidence of the use of saxophone, clarinet, oboe, hammer dulcimer, cello, violin and percussion, but he makes no secret of his love of the digital tools he makes use of, in shaping and manipulating the recorded sound.

“Of flesh and blood, Body and spirit, Worlds without end” are the sleeve notes that accompany the artwork in a fold-out booklet that follows the same format for all three CDs. There is more than hint of observation, resignation and expectancy in the artwork images, that along with the content of the sleeve note is perfectly reflected into the three musical sections “Which is”  “Which was” “Which is to come”

Graham Bowers has created a real gem with his trilogy in terms of a musical experience, he creates and puts together sound in a highly individual way, and although I have heard and read about comparisons to others, I would argue the point that he is totally on his own in what he creates and produces, and there aren’t to many of them about.
Arthur Hughes

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Pilgrim

Avant
The latest work by Graham Bowers aims to provide a prologue to Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress and, as such, intends to interpret Christian’s struggles to come to terms with the burden that has just been imposed upon him and the painful realisation that he must leave behind all he knows and loves if he is to gain salvation.

From the outset, this is material which is absolutely tailor-made for Bowers, given the prospect of examination of the whole gamut of human emotions and their attendant dilemmas and contradictions.

The first thing that occurred to me on listening to this recording, is its crystal clear sonic quality. Everything occupies its own, clearly defined space in the mix - there isn’t the same level of denseness which is so apparent in Of Mary’s Blood, Transgression and Eternal Ghosts. This could be perceived by some as a dilution of Bowers’ trademark potency, a more clinical approach even, but to these ears it represents a progression in technique and style.

Obviously, the nature of the music makes it impossible to predict how different listeners may approach this work. For example, it may be interpreted literally as a prelude to Bunyan’s allegory, or it may be listened to from a more personal standpoint. Whatever your choice, I can confirm that musically this piece is at least as effective as Bowers’ past works.

For example, a few bars into the piece the plaintive strains of what sounds like  ‘Blue Skies’ can be heard behind twittering, irritating woodwind squeaks. This is a master-stroke. The air of melancholy evokes a feeling of innocence and quiet, if misplaced, confidence that things are going to turn out alright after all - ignorance is bliss. You can imagine ordinary people, scrubbed and dressed in tired Sunday-best, dancing in a dusty village-hall to the shaky, yet cosy ineptness of ‘the trio’.

The broad palette of instrumental colour encompasses insistent, tattoo-like drum patterns, which give way to woodwind textures ranging from strident, guttural screams and grunts to breathy, contemplative passages. The familiar signatures of wild, strange piano and heavily mutated guitar also make occasional appearances.

As hinted above, this music projects from the speakers, filling the room with razor-sharp presence; some might say that warmth has been sacrificed in favour of dynamic ‘punch’. I would concede that Pilgrim may not be as viscerally exciting as previous works, but the sounds have been injected with a vitality that demands attention. This material, and the manner in which it has been executed, is just as likely to intrigue and entertain on several levels. It merely achieves this in a different way.

I am more than happy to report that the sound-scape Bowers has created here is no less provocative or unsettling than anything he has produced before, and would urge anyone to lay their hands on a copy of this CD.

This is an experience not to be missed.                                                                                                                                                                                                                    
John Rafferty

The Wire
The latest otherworldly communiqué from Anglesey is sub-titled ‘A Prelude to Pilgrim’s Progress’. Does this mean that Graham Bowers has begun another large-scale part-work to follow the trilogy comprising Of Mary’s Blood, Transgression, and Eternal Ghosts? I hope so, for each new recording confirms the distinctiveness of Bowers’ musical vision.

Crucially, he uses the studio as a compositional medium, processing instrumental source materials generated by a community of musicians, who are evidently content that their efforts should be transformed beyond recognition. Into that transmogrified sonic environment, Bowers introduces, in unprocessed form, eminently familiar elements. In its context, a snippet of the consoling standard ‘Blue Skies’ sounds inexplicably unsettling. The tinny clangour of an upright piano, or the desiccated rattling of a snare drum, is made strange.

As a painter, Bowers understands well the workings of perspective, and his most successful musical effects follow from skilled manipulation of acoustic zones of recession. His utilisation of the middle distance is especially striking. There, animated activity assumes a blurred form, discernible yet indistinct. Deciphering the event becomes a compulsive challenge, as acoustic phenomena simultaneously proclaim their identity and deny it. Listeners aware of his previous work will anticipate the metaphysical figures adorning the cover. Hovering between abstraction and narrative comprehensibility, they illustrate perfectly the qualities that make the 49 minutes of Pilgrim such a pleasurably uncanny experience.
Julian Cowley

Audion
The Audion Issue No 42 Top 10 New Releases
Number 2 - Graham Bowers - Pilgrim (Red Wharf) CD
Another conceptual opus, though I won’t go into Graham’s enigmatic ideas on this being a prelude to ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’, this is really his free-jazz album.
Free-jazz? - Well, in that the focusing element is a clarinet played in an intuitive jazz manner, acting as a counterpoint to bombastic percussives and electronics. Indeed, such a combination makes this a challenging work, more so than anything before, it gets very Stockhausen too, building to a tremendous climax at the 30 minute mark.A peculiar thing with all this, is the unique use of several effects - all in series, one after the other - which take the final section into a totally weird sound-world where the clarinet is; muted, twisted, fuzzed, auto-filtered, etc.  Weird is too simple a word for it. Couple with that crashing percussives, and you have an enigmatic startling finale, to disturbing and very strange album.
Alan Freeman

Yahoo (USA)
“Pilgrim” is the fourth release by Bowers, the subtitle “A prelude to Pilgrim’s Progress” suggesting that this is the first in another series of works. If so, I for one certainly hope so, as this musical work takes yet another innovative musical direction, and if the ‘array’ of musical expression that was illustrated in his “Trilogy” is anything to go by, then we are in for an interesting ‘musical treat’ on the forthcoming releases.  It would appear that his imagination, which is transferred, illustrated and output through musical and visual artistic expression is exercised by the examination of spiritual and physical psychological concepts.

Interestingly he has, in part, allowed the instruments to speak in a more conventional way, for example, much use has been made of wind instrumentation, and one can quite clearly identify this, but as in all his other work the instruments most definitely take on some form of personality that contribute to the overall sound experience. I have read that he regards his music as a form of ‘sound theatre’, and I can most definitely relate to that. With this in mind, the process whereby he introduces the instruments, the
relationships between them, the on-going interplay, the shifting dominance and deference is fascinating and the manner in which he does this is without doubt highly original. Another aspect of his work that springs to mind, and one I haven’t mentioned before, is the way he skillfully transforms the two dimensional stereophonic space into a three dimensional ‘environment’, and when one relates this to his concept of producing ‘sound theatre’ the listening experience steps up another level.

The arrangements and production take on a lot clearer and more defined approach, and in many ways are much simpler, and although it is very much different than his previous work, there is something, and I can’t put my finger on it, that carries the incomparable signature of Graham Bowers. I find this a fascinating conundrum, and the sign of a real artist.

Briefly, there are delicate thoughtful interplays and relationships, between what sounds like clarinet and saxophone, massive souring crescendos, strange hypnotic duets with thumping piano and the building intensity of an underlying snare drum. Uplifting melodic and syncopated percussion sections, with strident saxophone motifs, and a bizarre final section where all the ‘players’ (in a theatrical sense) assemble, re-state their case and ‘fight it out’ in a metaphorical sense.

Fascinating stuff, yes for me this really could be called ‘Sound Theatre’, call it what you want, whatever it is, it is great listening experience. I look forward to more!
Arthur Hughes