Minimalist in composition, with atypical arrangements and use of instrumentation, River Water is a kinetic and eclectic layering of sounds, a post-ambient production-based collage of loops, noises, and semi-improvised cello playing.  Even the packaging distinguishes this release as different, the CD being tucked into a large folded poster.  Aaron Martin is a distinctive artist, playing all the instruments and handling all production duties in his Topeka, Kansas apartment, above a retirement facility for Vietnam vets.  The solid production is key to this style of collage-music, for without it this would only rarely transcend being noise; River Water succeeds because of Martin’s careful production and attention to detail.  Certain elements of his design and composition style are clearly indebted to Minimalism, though his style remains his own.  This shouldn’t as a surprise when one individual plays all the 30 or so instruments, or more accurately, “materials” listed as sources on this album.  Martin’s sound sources can be broken down into three main groups: actual musical instruments, primarily cello, harmonica, ukulele, mandolin, banjo, guitar, and so on; more exotic or atypical instruments, such as the erhu, singing bowls, ocarinas, toys, and various bells; and finally mundane non-musical objects, such as a CD envelope, a knife, a fork, and a tooth brush. 

It seems evident that this was not a record that was crafted in order to be peacefully enjoyed, but rather a work that is meant to be admired, contemplated, and to make you feel many different things.  The sounds at times evoke feelings of nostalgia, and though the performances can be less than precise, the emotional weight is upheld.  When playing recorders or horns, for instance, its function is to recall childhood, not the concert hall. 

There is something about Cello Recycling/Cello Drowning, Martin’s collaboration with Machinefabriek, that feels harmonious in a way that River Water does not.  Perhaps it is simply the collaborative nature of the release, or the overarching theme (one of reinterpretation, and responding to re-contextualize) but River Water lacks that cohesiveness and telos.  This is not necessarily a bad thing, but is perhaps a matter of taste. It is up to the individual listener of course to decide how much stock one puts in an album’s cohesiveness. Martin is also experimenting as a writer/producer/arranger, and therefore one cannot rightly expect uniformity.  The fact that one artist working completely alone can create such varying music is in fact a great testament to Martin as an artist. The cello certainly remains the centerpiece around which this table is set, however, which allows the overall feel of the record fluctuates dramatically.

Though it can be very abrasive at times, River Water is constantly moving and is an intriguing affair. Little present here can be thought of as what could be called traditionally “beautiful.”  For instance, the transition between the soft cello chords of “Cord Blood” to the abrasive horn blowing intro of “Moon Jellies” is particularly jarring.  More sound design and experimentation than ‘music’, this raises many questions about the boundaries of music all together.  My reactions to the songs have changed dramatically at different listens, and it is really the kind of record that one will put on perhaps only when in a certain mindset.  Martin at his best breaks new ground, without alienating the listener with abrasive tones.  The closer “Trees and Smoke” achieves emotional resonance and aural splendor while still retaining Martin’s distinct and unconventional style. I for one hope to see his next release realize this sort of balance and cohesion throughout the entire record.

-Joseph Sannicandro