THE WHITE ISLAND

eyes cast down
Kalindi Music KM005
Oct. 1, 2017

Read the story of the album.

1. Mirage One 8.30
2. The Four Directions Seemed Aflame 9.00
3. Mirage Two 11.10
4. The Eons Are Closing 16.20
5. Mirage Three 8.55
6. Submerge 5.11
7. Mystic Memory 14.38

Reviews: Star’s End / Textura

Greg M describes this album’s genesis as an unexpected development: “From trepidation at the idea of improvising at all, these pieces emerged as my attitude toward ‘spontaneous composition’ progressed from stubborn determination to eagerness. The process hit critical mass with three releasable pieces from the summer 2015 performances, and an album of guitar improvisations suddenly became not merely plausible, but a Necessary Project.

Those three Mirage pieces and Submerge cover the meditative and serene space for the album, while the other three pieces venture into much more experimental territory. The Four Directions Seemed Aflame is an intense vehicle for fretless guitar with EBow, building up to four parts. The closer, Mystic Memory, is a 12-string exploration from Greg’s multimedia jam with art painters Royce Deans and Tali Farchi in April 2012.

All pieces are live solo guitar performances, recorded in concert or in The Keep, except The Eons Are Closing, which is assembled from eight improvised clips: two each on 6-string, 12-string, fretless guitar and electric mandolin. The mandolin, severely processed and pitched down two octaves, resembles a crazed bass marimba at times.

Remembering those who have gone before, in the album notes Greg calls out soundscape guitar heroes Jeff Pearce, Dirk Serries, Steve Roach and pioneer Robert Fripp with thanks for their great inspiration.

Review by Chuck van Zyl, Star's End:

Without words we would communicate by trading symbols. Recording as Eyes Cast Down, guitarist Greg Moorcroft produces music under this assumption. His album The White Island (73’44”) communicates to the listener, not just a substantial intellect, but also the many gray shades of mystery the human experience may touch.

The musicianship found on The White Island goes beyond that of the virtuoso, and to a different kind of playing and composing. The addition of several layers of echo, reverb, pitch shifting, long and short delay lines and other forms of digital processing results in a confluence of processes, intuition and innovation. The idea of layering the sounds of a guitar by means of a long delay is about as old as our modern concept of Ambient Music. But Moorcroft aspires to more than he inherited.

The White Island does represent his mastery of the equipment that loops, shifts, delays, flanges, filters and phases his plucked, rubbed and otherwise excited steel strings. However, his involvement with the music goes deeper than just a fascination with technology and technique. Consisting of seven slow-motion cloud rider tracks, this album might help the mind reduce the taxing task of processing nonessential information. The pindrop performances were recorded essentially in real-time, and wander from theme to theme in a free association of half-thoughts, lost memories and forgotten places.

From smooth and swirling, to tempestuous and dark, the achieved atmosphere seems to be that of sustained calm and wonder – harmonic journeys without the usual conclusion. Characterized by the reiteration of extended phrases and weighted by unpredictable shifts in timbre, The White Island eventually settles into its own unique ambient area – where the ethereal and surreal meet as a cerebral force.

Review by Ron Schepper, Textura:

That Greg Moorcroft (aka eyes cast down) cites Jeff Pearce, Dirk Serries, Steve Roach, and Robert Fripp as inspirations on his fifth album’s inner sleeve says much about the kind of material presented on The White Island. Don’t, however, interpret the statement to mean that the material’s blatantly derivative so much as that it exemplifies varying degrees of commonality with those innovators. It goes without saying that the intended listener is one with a jones for guitar-based ambient soundscaping.

All seven pieces on this latest collection by the Evanston, Illinois-based multi-instrumentalist, who’s been working in the ambient field since 2004 and released his debut album, The Separate Ones, in 2013, are live improvs recorded either in the studio or in performance, the most unusual being “The Eons Are Closing,” which Moorcroft assembled from eight improvised clips. Six-string electric guitar is the dominant instrument, though twelve-string and fretless guitars, electric mandolin, E-bow, and slide also surface.

Interspersed amongst four unrelatedly titled settings are three “Mirage” pieces, the first of which spotlights the more serene and meditative side of the eyes cast down project. In this opening piece, long wisps of hushed tones drift placidly for almost nine minutes, the effect of which induces a corresponding state of calm in the listener. The guitar’s chiming textures reverberate throughout the trio, and the sound of Moorcroft’s shimmer proves alluring (how fitting that another track is titled “Submerge”).

While the frenetic pace of the world slows dramatically in accordance with the soothing ambiance of “Mirage One,” the subsequent “The Four Directions Seemed Aflame,” executed by Moorcroft using fretless guitar with E-bow, exposes a rather darker dimension in featuring steelier timbres and, with four loops in play, the material’s also denser and slightly more haunting.

With its eight sixteen-bar improvised sections sourced from four instruments (six-string, twelve-string, fretless with E-bow, and electric mandolin), “The Eons Are Closing” is literally and figuratively the album’s centerpiece. Eerie and episodic, the sixteen-minute setting plays like an exploration into an uncharted zone where thick winds swirl alongside guttural noises suggestive of an alien life-form. As unusual as “The Eons Are Closing” is, it’s matched by “Mystic Memory” for the simple fact that its slide playing, which Moorcroft pairs with twelve-string during the fifteen-minute exercise, suggests nothing less than the mournful wail of an abandoned alley cat. Though the seven pieces on The White Island collectively constitute a unified whole, noticeable degrees of contrast are generated when these two long-form settings present arresting experimental counterparts to the comparatively serene “Mirage” improvs.