t o u c h   p a r k i n g Outside of their sporadic collaborations, Rasmus B. Lunding and Philip Samartzis exist in vastly different quarters of the avant-garde, as the Danish Lunding is best known for tinkering with programmable Lego constructions as the basis for composition and installation, where the Australian Samartzis wields his digital operating theatre with the precision of a skilled surgeon. The alliance which forged Touch Parking could be described as the Second Annual Transoceanic Summit for Giddy Robotic Engineers and Texturally Inclined Post-Turntablists. Both artists bring all of their tricks of the trade to the table (e.g. purposefully artificial DSP effects, microsonic explosiveness, theatrical drop outs, variable spatialization, divergent polyphony, etc.), and actually balance out each other's strengths, as Lunding's sense of humour works well with Samartzis' expertise in abstraction. Touch Parking resolves itself as a Mobius strip of surfaces, with the complex collages of electro-acoustic events colliding into each other and emerging in an inscrutable rebus of semiotic dead-ends and idiosyncrasies. Goodiepal's artwork on this picture disc replete with S&M cheesecake illustrations and pinstriped Rune stones further complicates the ecstatic absurdities for the album. Jim Haynes - Aquarius Records order this item
				download .mp3 (3.3mb)
		This duo collaborated once before on the very enjoyable Fluorescent, recorded in 2000 and issued on Dr. Jim’s Records in 2002. Loosely referring to their earlier work in more rock-based music, they created a simmering collage of abstract electronica with oblique references to melodies and rhythms but, more to the point, something of a pop-tinged glaze, a sweet sonic coating for tingly, arcane investigations; there are moments when Fennesz comes to mind. If you missed it first time around, it’s a good one to pick up. Several years later the two reunite for “Touch Parking”, a vinyl release. A word or two is necessary about the record itself as an art object. I haven’t kept up on the recent history of illustration transfer to vinyl so perhaps this sort of thing is more common than I know, but the disc, designed by Kristian Vester (better known as Goodiepal) is striking. The background on each side is a striped sequence of confectionary creaminess, alternating rose-beige, black and hazelnut brown, with thinner white stripes between. Side one as an elaborate, almost baroque and kitschy representation of a couple in vaguely S&M garb (she in leather corset, black stockings and stilettos, he only in leather underpants), back to back, arms intertwined, performing an obscure though apparently pleasurable dance ritual. They’re surrounded by images of gritty sand into which have been embedded various marbles and other spherical objects. A gap in the sand reveals the inscription “Protecting The Hive”. Along the top, encased in purple squares, are four letters: capital “D’s” in the first and fourth positions with two runic characters between (Is the D itself a rune? Dunno.). Side B consists of those four letters repeatedly printed on the black stripe. I find it a more unsettling image than the outrÈ one on Side A. Here, it reads like some impassive intimations of some alien genetic code.