MAS MACHINA IS A MUSICIAN (DAN FIETSAM) AND A BAND. At least in terms of composing and recording. At least for the time being.

THE LATEST NEWS is that we are now streaming on SPOTIFY and APPLE MUSIC.

THE SOUND IS centered/rooted in what perhaps is unofficially described by certain people as instrumental/shoegaze indie/guitar/ post-rock, inspired by the guitar sounds of the collective output of, but not limited to, such bands as (none of which would be classified as above) Pixies, Built to Spill, Bob Mould, Feelies, Meat Puppets, Yo La Tengo, Galaxie 500, Red Red Meat, Luna, specifically/roughly from the years 1989-91. Also haunting this recording are the ghosts of the vinyl where I learned to play guitar by dropping the needle compulsively/repeatedly on Thin Lizzy Live & Dangerous, Aerosmith Rocks, Black Sabbath Paranoid, Rush Hemispheres, Blue Oyster Cult Some Enchanted Evening and Devo Are We Not Men?, as I am still very much possessed by these very specific guitar sounds. You may/probably will hear other sounds. But this is what I hear.

ALSO, as an aside, fyi/btw, I completely subscribe to Martin Mull’s observation that “writing about music is like dancing about architecture”. Anyhoo.

“13” IS THE FIRST RELEASE in/of what plans to be a semi-regular sharing schedule. All the songs are guitar-based pieces building on repetitive riffs, feedback and harmonic fuzz which were then composed with the necessary arrangement and dynamic shifts to keep the attention of the discerning, contemporary attention-challenged listener. Unlike the influences listed above, at least for now, there are no vocals, reasoning to follow. Additionally, although I very much like and respect instrumental rock from artists such as Explosions in the Sky, Pelican, Sigur Ros, et al, I have not necessarily been inspired by these bands and/or genre to create instrumental music. The evolution/transformation of riffing and feedback into digestible instrumental music happened by way of a process that has unfolded organically more than/versus a deliberate intention, as creating moody guitar rock with no lyrics or vocals is not exactly a world domination strategy. Striking the right chord, quite literally, was and is the only intention here.

THE SONGS ON “13” WERE COMPOSED AND RECORDED (these two actions mostly happening simultaneously) in the window of January 2018 until April 2019 during an incredibly painful, extremely difficult and yet hopefully redemptive period of time in my life for a multiple of reasons I won’t go into here. While it has been a personally challenging chapter, the Muse woke me back up to the transformational power of writing music and for that, and a number of other things not directly connected to music, I am on my knees humbled and grateful. Subsequently, there yet remains a voluminous stockpile of additional raw-ish material heaped in a corner of my studio, with that studio being basically a laptop, a Focusrite and some headphones. And guitars, of course. And yes, I am always happy to dive deeply into a guitar wonkery rabbit-hole of conversation with anyone who cares to, but not here. If you follow us on Instagram, you can indulge the guitar and gear fixation with us there.

THE JOURNEY OF THIS PARTICULAR musical eruption/expression started with messy, way too loud guitar jams, with jams being more aptly described as an improvised yard sale of inchoate riff shrapnel, at my friend John Swamy’s sound studio in bucolic Baraboo, Wisconsin, in his old space. John is a wonderful friend, host, and musical genius, which I express admiringly with no hyperbole and without hesitation. He was most patient, zen-like one might say, and kind enough to not only house me, but set up his studio and provided the right vibe so I just let the gold top rip and wail through a cranked Marshall stack while he played drums and captured the “waterfall” of riffs and fuzz on tape (or more accurately, 1s and 0s). When we first started sifting through all the noise, I thought the output would eventually end up as the foundation for songs in the traditional format of lyrics/verse/chorus/bridge, etc and to be released with my other musical project called 65. But as all creative projects are wont, the direction changed.

HERE’S HOW.

While subsequently composing complementary parts, molding various chunks of riff into structural coherence and working the raw guitar goo into a seminal shape, I would (or at least attempt to) leave room for vocals, approaching the music as a lyric-based “song”, vocals TBD, coming last in the phase. But as I continued to compose/workshop/develop, I ended up compulsively layering more and more guitar along with the occasional super simple, distorted keyboard part, plus building additional B, C and D sections of the arrangement, ergo not leaving much, if not any, space for a voice. Or as John eloquently stated, “There’s no room for a (vocal) melody, man”.

Additionally, and not that this matters in the decision to forgo vocals, all the compositions here are in some form of idiosyncratic, bastardized alternate tuning, borrowing from Keith Richards to Sonic Youth, Nick Drake, et all, and their myriad of tuning variations. Furthermore, I would also tweak a string here or there within the specific alt tuning as well.

So, instead of swimming against the natural current of the musical river and/or (metaphor switch!) trying to twist a 2x4 of sound into something it wasn’t wanting to be, I fully embraced the decision to sculpt the material into instrumentals. I understand that this decision perhaps does not sound as profound to you as it did to me at the time I was realizing it. But it was/is. For me, at least.

I just tell you this as part of the story.

AND NOW, WELL HERE WE ARE.

Echoing back to album liner notes from Aerosmith’s Live Bootleg record, “Just a couple smashed guitars screaming in pain. There’s nothing like a tortured strat”. While I may not play a strat per se, and am not smashing any guitars, I am certainly torturing them, completely transfixed and fixated on the accidental, serendipitous harmonic feedback fuzz that results from standing way too close to an over-cranked, overheated tube amp.

If this appeals to you as well, you may enjoy MAS MACHINA.