Rarely do you see a single-track release wherein the title of the release is different from the title of the song -- yet here we are. Daniel Kwon’s Telepathy Game, a release with one track, titled “An Ideal Transfer (Wonka Vision)”.
The piece opens with what could be a harmonium (but maybe not) -- a slow beginning, softly emerging like a Celer album. A C chord passively comes up, with a strong 5th closer to the bottom, and a faint 2nd below that. A synthetic, whirring noisemaker occasionally drifts in and out, never overpowering. Voices can be heard around and about, just distant enough to remain unintelligible. No key changes, all drone. A few more notes may come in later, but they are spare.
There are both inside and outside sounds, as if someone with a good audio recorder went out to a field near an abandoned workshop and walked around. If you listen with headphones, it can be hard to pick out what’s on the recording and what is just random, natural ambience around you in real life.
You could imagine something is happening during this recording. You’re in the countryside, at that workshop -- remember? In a way, it feels like a Saturday. Everything seems to take its time. There’s no rush. A shimmering emerges outside in the field.
The album notes read:
thanks to peter fonda.
For Home Delivery, Press 1
Recorded July 31, 2018
Birds can be heard chirping in the background, but not for long. The cat on the cover looks on approvingly for a moment, maybe ready to pounce on the birds. Cicadas and crickets seem to emanate throughout, but are they there in the recording?
Still different, the mechanical sounds of metal doors and objects clinking and clanking against each other suggest an inside environment. Eventually, a car starts, but it doesn’t go anywhere. Maybe just a phantom start-up from some old junker.
Beautiful, glass-like pads emerge in the latter half, like a bright and brief shimmer from an empty place in a field. A 7th beams nearer the end from the glass pads. For a moment, the cicadas and crickets really have a go at it. A comedown eventually brings some relief to the countryside. A dusk-to-dawn journey seemed to have passed in between those 16 minutes. It felt like daylight when it began (maybe it was the birds), and it felt like the time just before morning when it ended.
Eventually, silence comes abruptly. The piece goes out much faster than it came in, like a light extinguished in the end-night.
An Ideal Transfer (Wonka Vision). Things imagined during the passing of music are very personal. The title suggests something completely different than what could be imagined. Maybe something supernatural, albeit quirky. Probably very different, though. At the end of the day, the most true thing is how you feel afterward.