As is made abundantly clear both by its name and the way in which it spills across the cover in an ugly typographical clutter, Shards is an EP/Mini LP of assorted fragments. Shattered pieces rescued from the wealth of unused material from other projects over the last five or so years. Mostly work originally made for film and TV soundtracks, including Infinity Pool, The North Water and others. Before they disappear into the half life of hard drive archive a few strays are gathered together here for some kind of stop gap release on the way to whatever new sonic world Tim Hecker is now working on.
In that sense it feels like a bit of an oddity. Hecker’s releases, even the short form collaborations, have always seemed quite independent of one another, complete and fully formed. Its pick ‘n’ mix nature brings Shards a slightly more rough edged feel, appropriately perhaps shifts of texture and instrumentation land like hard cuts between different scenes. But this is a formal issue to do with the presentation of the music rather than a reflection of its quality. It’s also relative as well, nothing here is particularly jarring or odd but it’s just a little less unified overall than you might have come to expect from him.
Then again it maybe offers a simple adjustment against layered electronic music as some kind of soporific suite or functional background music. Hecker’s last album No Highs found him railing against “the deluge of false positive corporate ambient” and while that might feel like a losing battle I’m sure his thinking around it will lead to yet more remarkable music to come. Unless I’m very much mistaken ‘Monotone 3’ is an outtake from that album, featuring some sax from Colin Stetson. ‘Morning (piano version)’ begins with soft wandering piano notes and eventually finds itself overcome by a rising discordant buzzing tone.
The last couple of tracks are maybe the strongest of the set. ‘Joyride Alternate’ is an Infinity Pool version, a vaguely 80s synth pulse fading slowly beneath more ghostly waves and dark, distant, grind. ‘Sunset Key Melt’ again balances evocative and functional in its title being a piece with a glowing sunset feel and a sense that the keyboard parts are melting. The longest piece here its first half features bright, dancing, daubs of sound suspended in a warm pacific atmosphere but is slowly surrounded and overtaken by the swarming drones of the oncoming night. As always with Hecker it’s emotional but rich and complex, allowing for multiple possibilities. It never feels literal or illustrative so the music easily floats free of the stories and worlds it was made for.
