This 3th volume continue to show all the aspects of electronic music from the early beginning until now - including 2 pieces of historical concrete music (of the 70's), several piece of American tape music (Columbia University) with a special focus on all the electronic music from Germany - WDR early works - krautrock - electronic from 90's... Also featuring some recent work of the greatest noise artists + several unsung electronic pioneers ...

The third volume of seven published from 2001 to 2011, curated, noted and edited by Guy Marc Hinant.

If these shadows remain unchanged, putting a creative spin on your unsolicited auditory environment will prove more and more essential, as survival mechanisms go.
Sub Rosa's anthologies of electronic dissonance and unanchored clatter don't pretend to serve as comprehensive overviews. They host a good few of the composers who, from the mid-1900s on, have divorced "music" from traditional notions of rhythm and melody, thus coaxing it closer to the random bangs, cries and chimes of the great outdoors, but, of course, a lot gets left out. They're best digested as tutorials on how to divine compelling art from seemingly random patterns of sonic cues. Make these tracks welcome in your own head - make your own sense of them - and you may prepare yourself to boogie to the no-cover "noise" show that awaits at every downtown crosswalk.
Disc 1 plays with the sort of blips, stings and whirrs that grace corporate bullpens after hours, when most everyone's gone but screensavers still bounce around unseen. It's the backdrop that keeps clicking and fluttering during the day, partially drowned out by human input but still audible if the people drive you so nuts you'd rather listen to the machines. It's what we now talk about when we talk about roomtone.
Ilhan Mimaroglu's "The Last Largo" is one of the disc's most minimal and most musical selections - it bottles the loneliness a sound effect might feel when realizing it's not part of a bigger composition. Hundreds of little clicks and beeps take turns begging for attention, and seem to ache like gnats trapped in light fixtures. Justin Bennet's "Ovipool" approaches and skirts overload inside three-and-a-half minutes. Hang on, hold your breath and figure out how to be thrilled, and noise can't hurt you anymore. So crank that shit.
The downtown concerto has had to adapt, with greater and greater tenacity, to beaten station wagons idling outside currency exchanges, blaring repetitive beats and hooks. Pop music has crashed environmental noise's party, and environmental noise has wrapped around it like kudzu. Disc 2 takes that shift into account, with selections from Michael Rother, Faust, To Rococo Rot and other new electronic pioneers who neither deny or deconstruct digital beat science. They give it its place in the background, and improvise over it, without letting it dominate their work.
>By Emerson Dameron