"That's so boring, it's like watching paint dry!"
How many times have you heard that one? What was it in reference to? A sport? Say… bowling? Golf? Curling? Maybe it one of those annoying 'foreign' films where they talk a lot and nothing blows up. It doesn't really matter as the concept is still the same.
This idea applies to music as well. For every listener, there's a genre that undoubtedly puts them to sleep. But I'm not talking about mainstream music here. No, Tetsuya Hori is dealing in the realm of ambient electronics. It's the kind of thing that might not evoke the 'boring' label so much as dismissal or anger — that it's not music at all.
But let's get back to watching paint dry for a minute. Have you ever done it? Is it really boring? There's nothing to be gained from the experience? Hori's thoughts on his music apply:
My pieces do not have a concept.
That is the concept.
I compose not only for instruments, but for things.
Each piece is different. Every time.
I want to show the listener nonsense.
So yes, paint dries and there are a host of things to witness. There's a range of textures and levels of reflectiveness. The hue deepens and might even be changed by the colors found in the room. The point is that these things do have intrinsic qualities, but the observer brings something to the experience as well.
All of which explains (sort of) the attraction of compositions like "For Beer Bottle And Laptop." With elongated electronic timbres colliding with airy bottle tones in a cloud of reverb, an almost industrial aural landscape forms. To my ear parts, the act of listening to the surprising overtones form is endlessly fascinating.
Like watching paint dry.
(The music of Tetsuya Hori is available directly from his record label Naivsuper.)