Skip to main content

After boiling, blending, and steeping, you have to let it ferment.

This was originally going to be an artist spotlight on one of the two musicians who make up the ensemble Fermented Brain, but their self titled album released through Full Spectrum Records on December 31st of 2020 is so full of amazing music that I am wary of my ability to maintain brevity.

Fermented Brain is a duo composed of William Corrigan and CC Sorenson, the latter of whom is the artist I intended to spotlight. William is based out of Lubbock and CC is based out of San Antonio, both are dear friends of mine and are amazing musicians, composers, and sound artists on their own.

I have had the luck of seeing Fermented Brain perform live as the duo and also as an expanded ensemble. The music is always amazing and deeply meditative; enveloping the listener in masses of sound. However, listening to their self-titled album led me on a deep meditative journey that I, frankly, wasn't prepared for.

Track "I" begins with a meditative timbre drifting though transitions from longing to an almost despair feeling. A sense of stability developing between phrases and reinterpretations. Everything seems held together with an organ while various other timbres and sounds drift in and out; from dissonance to consonance but never really arriving or settling. The atmosphere of the piece is one of large sound-masses and timbre blobs creating a space while timbres with slightly more focused "tone-ness" drift though various inferences of pitch. There is a collapsing of the sounds masses into smaller more focused tones, giving to a feeling of progression without any form of resolution in place of "traditional" tonal harmony.

The use of similar but different timbres (such as a woody/reedy organ sound parried with an unfocused reed almost saxophone-like sound) creates and atmosphere of motion and stasis while at the same time, percussive rattles and other sounds keep the listener grounded. Like tripping in a diner; the world is crazy, but the normal sounds are still there. The music moves to a completely immersive wave of sound, enveloping the listener into a meditative aura which fades into a sense of reminiscence. One feels that they are floating through various dimensions of separate reality, picking up tidbits of conversation, much of which seems to imply a sense of mundane-ness were we to understand, but to our ears it is a breath-taking sense of alien beauty. 

"I" ends abruptly, almost as though the listener was pulled away from a thought or yanked bodily out of a dream. 

"II" begins with intensity. A feeling of a paradox church where the tuning of the organ is not what we would be used to and harmonies are all eschewed, but with that same sense of reverence. There is a feeling of questioning and answering but never really concluding; like a good debate where a final answer is not attainable. Fermented Brain's continued use of instruments with similar timbres really holds the listener by creating an environment of subtle complexities. These subtleties really make the music. One could find glimpses of something different with each listening, like blinks of light in a sky filled with stars. 

I am reminded of Olivier Messiaen through out this album, in particular I think of his synesthesia. I remember a quote where Messiaen speaks of a certain scale or chord structure as portraying in his vision a grand cathedral filled with color while beams of light cross the space. I personally feel that same sense of grandeur and amazement with the world listening to this track, as though I am in an infinitely vast cathedral and the music is invoking the awe and amazement that is the world. 

The movement or progress of "II" feels like a change from closely spaced frequencies, compact harmonies, and a slight distance of sound origin to a widely spaced frequency mass, vastly spaced harmonies, and a sense of envelopment of the sound source, as though the artists are wrapping you within themselves then stepping away to let you view them from afar. The sound mass collapses eventually, something of a "fading" from a wide spread of sound to more singular points. Similar to "I" the second track ends somewhat abruptly, like an interruption in a deep conversation.

The final track of the album, "III" is my personal favorite. As it begins I can't help myself but think of green isles. Cool crispness in the air, dark vertical cliffs, and the expanse of the sea. The terrifying beauty of the world and all that it contains, but also a sense of sadness and loss for all that we have taken from nature. By 3:50 we have drifted inward, enveloped again within the minds of the artists. Contemplative but unfocused the listener ambles through their thoughts, never quite finding what they are trying to understand. Is that a tune I have heard before, maybe the bass line to a song, or just a rumble on the breeze? Pursue it, try to discover it, only to become lost on other paths of thought. Perhaps it is the prominence of low frequencies that leaves me feeling a sense of deeper meaning or deeper messaging, but this track feels like it explores deep into my psyche; clearing the dust from questions that need to be asked, but for which we don't know the answer. 42? Something else? 

But where do we go when our steps lead us away? The question of what is next looms large in the music, almost simultaneously by the artists of themselves, but also of the listener. Where will we be venturing next?

We can become so focused on ourselves and our search for individual truth that we forget the complex web of connectivity we exist within. This final track feels like an attempt to remind the listener of the rest of reality, our interconnection with nature and each other and a push away from that selfish individuality that we fall into so often. Much like "II," "III" fades away both in volume and frequency mass; but unlike the other tracks, there is no hard stop. We are left with our feet back on the ground as the artists' minds leave us to our own world, now changed with what we just experienced. 

______________________________

On a different topic: CC, much like many other musicians, has had a rough time of 2020. They have had difficulty finding reliable work and have been stressed trying to make ends meet. I am linking a few of their other projects here. If you are able, pick up some of their other tracks or albums. I listened to "E Day (all the ice is melting)" while writing this and the sense of nature in that piece is vast and amazing.

CC is on Bandcamp here: https://ccsorensen.bandcamp.com/

CC is also in a group with their brother called Channel Worker: https://channelworker.bandcamp.com/

They also release music on the Shadow Trash Tape Group: http://shadowtrashtapegroup.com/

If you like Fermented Brain's self-titled album, I guaranty you will like more of CC's music.

William has some great solo work out there including a release on the Llano Disks Series from Full Spectrum and his own Bandcamp page: https://williamcorrigan.bandcamp.com/album/whatever-happens-is-fine

Until next time.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Into the "Deviance"

Jason Adams, performing under the name Rumori developed Deviance from live performances and has really made some amazing music in this album. In the description of the album on BandCamp, the composition of the pieces is described where "Each piece of music works to create its own unique environment, minimal melodies laying a foundation for complex textures and exploration." Each movement follows this structure incredibly well, but they all are so much more complex than the description implies. Pieces like "Shrouded" and "Deviance" emphasize this minimal melody creating significantly more complexity through the polyphonic behaviors of the music. The use of effects also expands on the depth of complexity by allowing expansion into sonic realms the cello cannot reach on its own.  Deviance by Rumori "Tarantula" leads the album though deep floating lines with heavy use of delay to allow the cello to build a sense of deep foreboding. The first section ...

One Life: A Memorial for A Lost Pet

     Yesterday, July 11, 2025, my cat, Kačka, died. I woke up to find her body in the kitchen. It still feels surreal to think that she is gone. Twelve years of her goofiness, cuddly-ness, and presence. This is a music blog, so I will include some music: my own. From my album  Untitled No. 2 (West Texas Fantasies)  which was recorded between winter 2020 and summer 2021 and, as it is apt to happen when recording ambient sounds in a house with a cat, has a sample of Kačka in the final track, "Just drips in an empty sink".   Untitled No. 2 (West Texas Fantasy) by Justin Houser      Kačka came into my life with a bit of a scare. In late July 2013, I was working as a TA in the School of Music at Texas Tech getting the computer lab I taught out of ready for classes when I received a text from my mother that just read "We need to talk." Anyone will recognize the concern of "what have I done" or "what horrible thing has happened" that ran throug...

Traversing the 'Mirrorsphere' by Aksatzul

I believe I first happened upon the work of Aksatzul while in a deep dive into YouTube, but I cannot currently find the original. However it happened I was immediately entranced by the dark, ambient, black metal-esque nature of this Finnish musician. It was difficult for me to choose between Mirrorsphere  and their other album Noneverse (linked below) when I was preparing for this blog post. Both albums are spectacular. Noneverse  encompasses more of the ambient-noise-music feel on which I normally focus while Mirrorsphere  drifts closer to the industrial and black-metal genres. Overall, I tend to describe the music of Aksatzul as akin to being back stage at a concert and listening to the glorious haze of music drifting in through the walls.  Mirrorsphere by Aksatzul Mirrorsphere has a sense throughout that the standard timbres of a metal band (guitars, bass, drums and perhaps keyboards) are all present but go through significant levels of distortion, to points ...