An Extremely Slow Motion Explosion by Yttriphie (Review)

I’ve written quite a bit about my love for Soulwhirlingsomewhere’s evocative ambience, and in particular, 1993’s Eating the Sea, one of my favorite albums of all time. The brainchild of Michael Plaster, Soulwhirlingsomewhere only released a handful of albums, the last one being 2001’s Please Sennd Help. (2004’s The Great Barrier was a retrospective compilation.)

Plaster would occasionally hint at a fifth album titled Almost, but fans’ hopes for new music were essentially dashed in 2017 when he announced that he was shutting down Soulwhirlingsomewhere and “[closing] that chapter of my life.” Instead, he got involved in other projects, including The Mineral Tap, an acoustic-oriented duo with drummer Jason Farrell that performed Mark Eitzel-esque ballads as well as guest vocalist for Black Tape For a Blue Girl and Exit.

Yttriphie, however, is Soulwhirlingsomewhere’s true successor. Pronounced like “atrophy” but starting with “ih,” Yttriphie finds Plaster delving into the same lush soundscapes — which should come as no surprise. The slowly unfurling “Siderius,” for instance, evokes latter-day Soulwhirlingsomewhere (e.g., “The Wedding” and “Nani” from Please Sennd Help) as well as VidnaObmana’s contemplative stillness.

One major difference becomes immediately apparent, though: the absence of Plaster’s yearning vocals and confessional lyrics. Yttriphie’s debut An Extremely Slow Motion Explosion is an entirely instrumental affair, and though I do miss hearing Plaster’s voice, he fills the extra space with an occasional downtempo beat or texture.

“Absrpt/Nline” travels along a twilit periphery, its meandering ambience tinged with an eeriness that’s not all that dissimilar from Marconi Union’s subdued-yet-haunting electronica; the same beguiling eeriness resurfaces on album closer “Pare.” Highlight “Myrskiiyinen” weaves in sparse piano notes, an echo of shuffling beats, and the sounds of rain, becoming the album’s emotional core as it slowly unfolds over eight minutes. Later, “Unsettled Apsis” envisions Steve Roach’s landmark Structures from Silence run through Boards of Canada’s Gaussian-blurred hauntology — and yes, the results are as otherworldly as you’d expect.

I have distinct memories circa 1995 of sitting alone in my apartment late at night, the lights off and Eating the Sea on repeat, the album’s melancholy washing over me for hours on end. As melodramatic as that sounds, it proved to be a source of comfort during a particularly difficult time in my life. Though I’m no longer in such a place — thank God — An Extremely Slow Motion Explosion takes me back there, and I can certainly imagine many people, former Soulwhirlingsomewhere fans and new listeners alike, finding a similar sense of comfort in Yttriphie’s own melancholy, should they need it.