Cd released by La Olla Expréss in October-2020
Orders to: www.laollaexpréss.com
t’s becoming gradually more and more difficult to find music, like that of Javier Hernando’s, that stubbornly escapes any attempt to be tagged and pigeonholed. In active since the late 70s as a member of Xeerox, a short-lived but subsequently highly recognised no-wave infused band, Javier has explored – under the monikers Melodinamika Sensor and Sinusoidal first, then under his own name – the limitless possibilities of the electronic musical medium merging minimalism, timbrically rich soundscapes, non-obtrusive occasional rhythms, dream-like melodies and gentle noise experimentation in a musical magma that consistently presents itself as an integral, cohesive whole where there’s always space for the unexpected.
Javier, whose tireless dedication to divulge “other music” since the decade of the 80s - whether releasing works by like-minded artists (through Ortega y Cassette, a cassette-only label he run with others), or hosting the radio show Los silencios de la radio – sees today continuation in the form of the illustrative texts he writes for his online blog, Ojos de músico extraviado, presents with Jardín náufrago, his fifth album and the first for La Olla Expréss, a collection of tracks that might as well have been created using the painting technique of the Gestalt brushstroke; every seemingly isolated synth stroke is a consubstantial part of an abstract landscape whose contour and amplitude is better appreciated taking some distance, not so much physical as mental. And from that distance, the listener can also appreciate that not only is Javier Hernando the vanishing point where Terry Riley, Conrad Schnitzler or Oval meet, but also a reference point in his own right, showing with Jardín náufrago the face of a possible future music that would be, at the same time, a stylistic amalgam and an original, highly personal portrait of its author.
Olas de metálicos ríos
con todas las palabras de sortilegio tal
a las puertas del sueño yo te arrojo:
los jardines dorados, sus vegas aromadas, nadando en el crepúsculo con mujeres que ríen la susurrante oscuridad violeta.
Árboles de luz blanca y titilar de estrellas,
el estanque olvidado que susurra,
entre las ramas que la luna cubren
brota un temblor callado.
Hugo Von Hofmannstahl