Dear Reader,
This is “You Wouldn’t Know” because, you wouldn’t. That’s okay. It’s all okay. Don’t worry. The internet is full of things that we all wouldn’t know, and I’m simply here to help you know. It’s not to know what’s in the know, because this certainly isn’t in the know. This isn’t some column dedicated to the things we think are fringe, but really aren’t- Soundcloud fame is still fame. This is a column called “You Wouldn’t Know” because I can almost promise, that you wouldn’t. How do I know: because I didn’t. Still, I’m sure there’s someone out there who would tell me I’m late to the game. That’s the internet for you.
Now: $3:33
Originally broken on Portals, what has been talked about is that Celiarae Hollander released Draft, this year. What’s only been mentioned (I assume because it’s no longer hype worthy) is last years $ . .
$3.33 crosses the textural lines that separate electronica and ambient. Throughout $ ., there’s an unwavering feeling that at any moment Hollander might break out into dance, however, the patient restraint that preserves the music draws the question: is this “music” or is this “audio art”.
Yes, that’s an obnoxious question. Yes, I’m not sure that I understand the difference myself as my own definitions of the two are in constant evolution, often intersecting, and often paralleling each other. But none the less, this is the question that comes to mind.
Now: Perhaps I can refuse to analyze a piece of music that seems beyond my own scope of critique; or perhaps I cannot.
For the avid fan of something more challenging, the album can remain a casual listen. For the typical listener, though, $ . is nothing short of exercise. Without anything to back it up that could be considered “driving” in a traditional sense, Hollander’s work sits as a piece that molds itself with the ebb and flow of the moment, following the moment, following the moment. Out of context, not much makes sense. Though throughout the provide framework, everything sits exactly in place. And, in an audio landscape where full album are rarely digested as intended, $3.33 will, I’m sure, go under-appreciated.
It’s the ubiquity that reaches beyond the conventional motif of a “hook”. Without anything in particular for the ears to latch onto, there rarely is a moment that demands repetition. Even within it’s electronica side, the album strays far from it’s influences and remains minimal an unhindered. Through the fortitude of it’s ambient side, $ . matches each track to the albums own timeline and creates something that expands beyond the individual tracks which might be considered singles.
For a moment, we might be able to call “AS” or “HE” or “JA” songs. This is where the question of audio art vs. music comes to the front. If you thought I had a definitive answer, I’m sorry to tell you that I don’t. In all, Hollander’s work is an experience that can be taken largely out of context, or enjoyed in full. The thing to know is that to “enjoy this in full”, there is a certain amount of dedication and trust that is required. A listeners trust largely comes from a catalog of success, which at the time of $ ., $3.33 didn’t have. To call it’s release a personal gut check is to hit things softly.
Now: I am questioning nearly every original thought that I had about $3.33.
It’s release, I would assume, was a personal measure, released for the pure sake of demonstration. While this hardly remains an album that will ever be bumped in a convertible, $ . is a piece worthy of a digital museum.
I know that I may have missed the point of qualifying $3.33 as anything in particular. I may not have been able to label it anything tangible that would give a listener an idea of what to fully expect. Though this seems to be the point that the music (or perhaps audio art) is making, even to myself, as I listen to if for the fifth time: not everything needs defining, not everything needs a “write up”, not everything it meant to be capsulized by internet culture for suggested consumption. With that, I recommend nothing to you. Listen if you think you can.