BY Nilan PereraPublished Dec 14, 2009

No drummer, no trumpet, but four Hammond organs and the accompanying Supersilent. With this CD, this band have finally reached the point where the instruments have achieved parity with the graphics, in their tendency to make the musicians anonymous. But in the stripping away of those layers, the group have improvised a CD of music with no less artfulness or intent. The instruments engage in the rather odd conjoining of contexts, from the ambient pointillism in "9.3," with its introspective swing, from monster movie chords to drone pulses, to the cheerful, if dark, playfulness of "9.2," which manages to sound like an improvisation based on the sounds of the alien ship trying to communicate from Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Above all, there is the admirable tendency of the band not to rush things, and to stay with an idea until it works itself through. This seems to be something Supersilent are very good at, and is in part responsible for their ability to sustain a solid body of work. 9 is no exception.
(Rune Grammofon)

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