Reviews:

(Startling Moniker) Limited-edition improv from Midwestern odd-instrument builders Jay Kreimer (The Mighty Vitamins) and Bryan Day (Eloine, Shelf Life) on the Featherspines label. This one reminds me a lot of the Day/Polipnick project "Nagaoag;" with its free-time meandering, random vocal outbursts, and unknown instrumentation. Of course, that's a big part of the enjoyment here. What could be making the mechanical lion growling? Why does everything sound like it was recorded underground in a colony of 50-foot ants? What mad carpenter fashioned the instrument that sounds like lightbulbs being shattered while sliding down a de-tuned guitar? "Land Tracts" is quite bewildering, but at turns- and mostly due to Kreimer and Day's unerring sense of aural nuance- it possesses a true organic beauty that simply does not exist on so many improvisational recordings. I'm sure I'll never find it again (natural beauty is always elusive and wild) but one of my favorite moments so far was hearing an unexpected transition to a more quiet atmosphere. In just a few seconds, every sound nestled amongst the others, like a heavy blanket settling gradually upon a bed. With only 60 copies printed, my advice is to grab this one quickly if it sounds interesting to you. If you miss it, go back and pick up "Ductworks" from Day's "Shelf Life" project. - DaveX

(Indieville) This collaboration between Jay Kreimer and experimental scene veteran Bryan Day (of Public Eyesore fame) is a mesmerizing audio canvas of sonic detritus. On a bed of brooding darkness, Kreimer and Day emit creaks, groans, and other ephemera to create a brilliantly haunting work of improvised experimental music. The record sounds like the score to a terrifying horror film, almost incidental in its abstractness yet still carefully orchestrated. I'm not sure if this was recorded in an empty, haunted mansion but the reverberation of each clatter and clang makes it sound that way. With only sixty copies kicking around, Land Tracts might not be around for long. This, of course, is a shame, because Kreimer and Day have recorded a fine example of free improv done just right. - Matt Shimmer

(Foxy Digitalis) Improvisational heavyweight Bryan Day and cohort Jay Kreimer create one hell of a racket on “Land Tracts,” an ultra-limited CD-R on Albuquerque's Featherspines imprint. Day is a rather prolific improviser, who also records as Shelf Life and Eloi, and his collaborations with other likeminded souls are great in number. “Land Tracts” finds Day and Kreimer using and abusing a variety of homemade percussion instruments and electronic gadgets in an attempt to provide a soundtrack for the apocalypse. Terrifying, wordless vocals punctuate the music, amplifying the weirdness factor. “Land Tracts” is the sound of a thousand metallic beasts roaring, howling and shreiking as they tear apart this fragile world. These two improvisers seem to revel in the creation of such fright-inspiring sounds. Their laughter can even be heard during the second half of the program, illuminating the mirth with which they unleash destruction. I guess the old saying “if you can't beat them, join them” applies here: laugh along with Seeded Plain... ...laugh all the way to your own bitter end. 8/10 - Bryon Hayes

(Kathodik) Seeded Plain è una delle creature di Bryan Day (qui accompagnato da Jay Kreimer), figura abbastanza sui generis nel panorama della musica avanguardistica americana. Da ormai dodici anni il nostro costruisce strumenti musicali di vario genere partendo da hardware di computer, sintetizzatori, chitarre rotte e attrezzi simili per creare strumenti del tutto nuovi, votati a una musica che chiamare tale è già uno sforzo notevole. Pur diviso in sei tracce, questa ora abbondante di suoni è un continuum di sferragliamenti ciclici, droni taglienti, echi mortiferi all’insegna della destrutturazione più totale del concetto comune di musica. E’ rumorismo puro, il trionfo della meccanica sulla melodia, dell’improvvisazione pura sul meditabondo mondo della perfezione sonora: la sensazione che si avverte è quella di una catastrofe che ha travolto tutto, lasciando brandelli di muro qua e là dai quali spuntano ora un’antenna spezzata, ora una televisione sfrigolante, ora il rantolo di qualche essere vivente. Tutto è caos, brodo primordiale inestricabile, insondabile, stridente. Come giudicare un lavoro del genere? Questo è il suono della morte, dell’aldilà, della fine dell’universo; ma cosa ne sappiamo noi di tutto ciò? Troppo estremo per essere vero. - Marco Pagliariccio

(Vital Weekly) Eh? labelboss Brian Day is responsible for the other two releases, on different labels. Seeded Plain is his duo with Jay Kreimer, and both get credit for 'objects, time', whatever 'time' might be here. Locked in a room with their 'objects' of an undefined nature and a microphone or two, they rummage about. Six pieces which span almost seventy minutes, which I deem to be a bit long for what is on offer. The rubbing of objects against eachother, on the floor, cords between them (I guess) is all nice, but after three pieces I pretty well knew what game is played. What they do, they do with great care though. Full on with concentration. Fluxus like music, but without the scandalous undercurrent or the willful concepts. When listened in smaller parts a fine release. - Frans De Waard