It’s been over three years since A Winged Victory for the Sullen’s most recent release, 2021’s Invisible Cities. What’ve AWVFTS’s Adam Wiltzie and Dustin O’Halloran been doing since then?
Droning?
Orchestrating?
Bumming around their adopted home bases of Belgium and Iceland?
Working on solo albums?
Well, yeah, that. The Sullen duo released their first extracurricular affairs in years in late March, 2024.
Words and Photos by Paul Ashby
Non-rock strokers of beards may be musing ah, perhaps now we’ll know what A Winged Victory for the Sullen is made of! Wiltzie does the volume-pedal guitar and samples and drones, n’ stuff, and O’Halloran delivers all the orchestral piano-tickling romanticism! 
Not so fast, non-rockers. Were it that simple.
Adam Wiltzie Eleven Fugues For Sodium Pentothal (Kranky, US)
This is the first real full-length solo outing from Adam Wiltzie since 2016’s Salero, a remarkable film about lithium mining in Bolivia that I encourage everyone to see.
Regarding Eleven Fugues lead-off track, “Buried At Westwood Memorial Park, In An Unmarked Grave, To The Left Of Walter Matthau”:
Reluctant, as I am, to speak for the irrepressible Mr. Wiltzie, I find it necessary to go on record not recommending using the title of this song as a reference to some sort of scavenger hunt. Poetic license, that sort of thing.
There are some echoing thuds, and wavering, dissonant strings atop a bed of shifting drones. The track is approximately as unsettling as the title might lead you to suspect.
Next, “Tissue of Lies” is almost pretty, with its arpeggiated guitar and drifting atmospheres. But it ends after a mere three minutes, just as I’m desiring more.
Most of A Winged Victory for the Sullen’s complex infinite-reverbs-upon-reverbs algorithms are likely creditable to this Wiltzie guy. And “Pelagic Swell” and “(Don’t Go Back to) Boogerville” have some fiddle-sawing that resembles that of “Adios, Florida” from 2019’s remarkable The Undivided Five. There’s orchestration, here.
Most of the selections are more “active” than most of Stars of the Lid‘s output… which is tantamount to saying Eleven Fugues is, say, perkier than your average extended dirge. “We Were Vaporized” might the exception; it’s an appropriately ghostly excursion that’s more, uh, stasis-based than any other track.
“As Above Perhaps So Below” and “Mexican Helium” are the ringers, here. For the most part, these are SONGS. Sure, there’s no recognizable rhythms, so you might have trouble divining a beat to tap your feet to. Me? I find it perfect driving music, if I’m driving through the high desert at twilight (which is my wont). Your mileage might vary. This sort of stuff usually works best in a very dark room with no distractions, so operating heavy machinery on Sodium Pentothal isn’t the sort of thing I’d recommend.
Once off the road, I’d love to have some of what Adam Wiltzie’s inhaling. An album full of wordless Wiltzie drones speaks volumes. Give Eleven Fugues For Sodium Pentothal a deep listen or three, at varying amplitudes. I recommend loudest, although dozing off to it at quiet levels might lead to a few interesting dreams.
Dustin O’Halloran 1 0 0 1 (Deutsche Grammaphon, Germany)
O’Halloran’s 1 0 0 1 starts with an eminently agreeable n’ sedate piano / strings / chorale 5-part suite titled “Spiritus Naturae Aeternus” (“Eternal Spirit of Nature,” for those of us who’ve been outta school for awhile). The piece is co-composed by Brian Senti, and the piano is unmistakably O’Halloranesque; contemplative, deliberate, with more than a dash of drama.
“Cymatic Love Spiral” parts 1 and 2 follow; Senti, again, is credited for co-composition. Drama, again, is imbued via the minimal arrangement for piano and the lush strings of the Budapest Art Orchestra. 210 seconds isn’t enough, and I’d like to petition O’Halloran and company for an album or two’s worth of this variety of classical (neo-classical? post-classical?) nirvana.
“Harmonic Dream Sequence” comprises the next four tracks. Absent is O’Halloran’s piano; instead, Dustin displays keen wielding of analog synthesis. There are glimpses resembling some of the more depth-charged portions of A Winged Victory for the Sullen’s The Undivided Five and Invisible Cities. (Pt. 4) even concludes the suite with a jarring rhythmic breakdown of the dubstep ilk.
“Transfigural Syntax Eclipse” is a five-part suite that concludes the album. Once more, O’Halloran is stacking synthesizers, resulting in sounds that’re sometimes ethereal, sometimes eerie, sometimes ominous. And hey, (Pt.3) contains floorboard-rattling sub-bass that works on several levels, especially if you have a multi-story abode. Doesn’t sound too classical, eh, genre-sticklers?
1 0 0 1 is a very welcome assemblage of the many compositional and instrumental skills of Dustin O’Halloran.
And appreciation to the Deutsche Grammophon and Kranky labels for continuing to support and release work from artists like A Winged Victory for the Sullen who breach the confines of classical music.
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