If my long-forgotten French is any use, the title translates roughly as ‘6 studies in white noise degradation’; and I’m taking that as a accurate description of what is going on here. I can’t confirm or prove any kind of process throughout the six discs, but I think that’s what’s happening. The first four discs are all really quite similar (at this point I’m very aware of the normal, ridiculous criticism, that hnw ‘all sounds the same’…); I don’t mean that in a lazy dismissive way at all: given that the process is a gradual one, this is to be expected. So, the first four discs all offer the slightest variations on the following textures: fast, galloping bass rumbles, very thin, gossamer-like treble fizz/crackle, and nice, high-mid crackles that becomes more prominent as the discs progress. The only ‘event’, so to speak, is the very beginning of the third disc; which starts with about twelve seconds of very nice, hollow rattling. It’s with the penultimate disc, that the mysterious process really begins to take effect. Here, the speeding, juddering bass gives a sense of providing all of the movement and energy; whilst the fizzy treble and gritty mid-highs almost present a calm stasis. Seconds before the twenty-six minute mark, the wall cuts to an eerie, hesitant hiss, a dirty wash with a distant bass churn; after about a minute, the wall cuts back in again. This is repeated near the thirty-nine minute mark, with the wall cutting to a really very beautiful passage, with nicely strained bass textures. After about four minutes, the bass juggernaut re-emerges, and steamrollers through to the end of the disc. This is all just a prelude to the final, sixth disc, though.

The last disc is where the process really takes hold: its also one of the best things I’ve heard in a long time. It begins with staggeringly beautiful, grainy textures; sounding very organic and truly hewn out. This is superseded by a slow bass churn, accompanied by lurching crackle and delicate fizz. This treble fizz grows to dominate the track, in many respects. Around the nine minute mark, there is another ‘cut’ - to a similar ‘wash’, but noticeably more watery in sound; this lasts for around four minutes, before the bass and fizz slam back in. In order not to ruin the rest of the track, I’ll simply say that this wall/cut/wall pattern repeats itself throughout. In total, there are four sections of restrained, washed out walls, cut into the main wall; these range from very watery textures, to almost flanging sounds, to tones emulating a rough, complaining engine. The third ‘cut’ section, which begins just before thirty-four minutes, even pares back further after a while; retreating to a bare dirty wash. Around these sections, the main wall powers on, the bass underpinning the strangely dominating treble fizz. Some of the mid-frequency crackle and flecks are quite special: very delicate and almost having a melodic quality to them. At the very end of the piece, the process reaches a conclusion (though I still have no idea what the process precisely is): beautiful ‘dirt’ textures appear, faltering and staggering; confirming, for my ears, the very presence of the process. From hereon, windy, blustering sounds develop; indicative of a device struggling and dying. This might hold the key to what ‘6 Etudes Pour Bruit Blanc Degrade’ actually presents…

So, this set is a bit of a mystery for me. In abstract terms, I think the six discs chart the effects of some process - which I can’t define - on a wall; gradually reducing it to dirty, failing noise. In practical terms, this results in four discs with very similar textures and tones (though there is a sense of things becoming more choppy and disturbed as the discs progress) and two discs where the process becomes noticeable and then overwhelming. The last disc, where the wall is indeed finally overwhelmed, is really very good indeed; as I said above, its one of the best wall tracks I’ve heard in a while - its worth getting the entire set for, alone.