John Hudak  Don't Worry About Anything; I'll Talk To You Tomorrow CD ALL001

Completed in 1998, this is only the third full length composition from NY composer John Hudak to appear on CD. He is mostly known for his cassette work in the mid-eighties. His work is primarily built on repetition and alteration, usually from single sound sources. With this composition, he has manipulated an answering machine recording of his mother's voice. The piece is shifting and complex. It is smooth and relaxed with the contradiction of extremely high, piercing frequencies. It is undoubtedly one of his most complex works to date. In an edition of 1,000.

$8p.p in North America, elsewhere see the Alluvial Shop for additional postage rates.

REVIEWS

Vital Weekly 155, Netherlands, Frans de Waard
Soon Hudak will be a new household name for you, this being his third CD in a short period. Here the minimalist offers one track, the soundsource of which has been taken from his answermachine: his mother. She died last year, and in the light of the title, this is a sincere hommage to her. The 55 minutes are filled with tones that work in layers, repeating clusters of some low resolution sound, but which embodies a whole universe and never bores. I've listened to this on headphones, and I was fascinated by the richness of the work, the moving character, the simplicity of the complex
work. Just minimalism beauty.

Vince Harrigan (Manifold Records, USA)

The story goes that after his mother passed away, John Hudak found a tape from an answering machine that still had a message from her. In homage he created this entire disc from that recording. What results is a sentimental, obscured, soundscapish and yet gently-noised set of aural situations. Mechanical, gritty textures flow into sweeter, more melancholy triptychs of tone. No tracks are listed, but several meek scenes come into view and fall away again. There is very little of what could be recognized as a mothers voice here, except perhaps in the nostalgic impressions left behind for Hudak…or the conscious listener. Deep, thoughtful listens seem to evoke the feeling of looking through someones scrapbook…or is it the knowledge of what this work is inspired by that makes us think that?