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Dryhouse Ruins - 'Dryhouse Ruins' LP
Beauty and decay. Light and darkness. Tranquility and rage. All elements of life. All present in music. All present in this is the self-titled LP by Dryhouse Ruins.
Since their inception in 2014, Dryhouse Ruins has adhered to a straightforward premise: borrowing from the history of improvisation and bands like The Necks, they have become the post-(kraut)rock band they wanted to see in the world. More than a decade later, no live set or rehearsal has been repeated. Their pick-a-key-and-go ethos plays out under the influence of varied musical touchstones — Can, SUNN 0))), Sonny Sharrock — but the band’s execution has emerged as singular.
Even as they continue to seek and plant their flag where those artists meet, Dryhouse Ruins has committed one ephemeral moment to vinyl. The combo enlisted Beau Sorenson to record their debut album in a single day — July 17, 2023 — as a full live unit at The Chair Company in Milwaukee. Beau made minimal edits while mixing the four-sided LP’s four tracks, no overdubs required.
Guitars and bass in the hands of Jeff Mitchell, Damian Strigens, and Jim Warchol begin every track from the same trailhead before splitting up to cover more ground. Drummer Ben Derickson is at once devil and angel on the band’s shoulders, coaxing his mates further out onto diverging paths. Ben revels in the ensuing tension on an overgrown middle path that’s eventually uncovered, bringing the disparate journeys back together.
Improvising with drones and repetition is an art. Dryhouse Ruins crafts theirs with melody, nuance, fury, and elegance. In composing music organically, they set themselves apart in practicing the skill of listening to each other’s cues while playing. Over the years, they’ve developed a sixth sense — no communication necessary for knowing when to hold back and when to let it all go.
As for their debut LP — though it contains four tracks, the band recorded 11 that midsummer day with the studio’s loud air conditioning turned off and 2024’s election looming. The threat of an incoming kleptocracy weighed on the band. They discussed it during breaks and expressed it while creating nonverbal scores. In the end, the self-titled album isn’t prophetic, but rather a political record that reflects our uncertain present. Mastered by Justin Perkins at Mystery Room Mastering, the music searches for hope beyond despair, for light to kindle a conflagration in the darkness.
The tracks:
Glenbeulah
Scuppernong
Lake Eleven
Dunes
Beauty and decay. Light and darkness. Tranquility and rage. All elements of life. All present in music. All present in this is the self-titled LP by Dryhouse Ruins.
Since their inception in 2014, Dryhouse Ruins has adhered to a straightforward premise: borrowing from the history of improvisation and bands like The Necks, they have become the post-(kraut)rock band they wanted to see in the world. More than a decade later, no live set or rehearsal has been repeated. Their pick-a-key-and-go ethos plays out under the influence of varied musical touchstones — Can, SUNN 0))), Sonny Sharrock — but the band’s execution has emerged as singular.
Even as they continue to seek and plant their flag where those artists meet, Dryhouse Ruins has committed one ephemeral moment to vinyl. The combo enlisted Beau Sorenson to record their debut album in a single day — July 17, 2023 — as a full live unit at The Chair Company in Milwaukee. Beau made minimal edits while mixing the four-sided LP’s four tracks, no overdubs required.
Guitars and bass in the hands of Jeff Mitchell, Damian Strigens, and Jim Warchol begin every track from the same trailhead before splitting up to cover more ground. Drummer Ben Derickson is at once devil and angel on the band’s shoulders, coaxing his mates further out onto diverging paths. Ben revels in the ensuing tension on an overgrown middle path that’s eventually uncovered, bringing the disparate journeys back together.
Improvising with drones and repetition is an art. Dryhouse Ruins crafts theirs with melody, nuance, fury, and elegance. In composing music organically, they set themselves apart in practicing the skill of listening to each other’s cues while playing. Over the years, they’ve developed a sixth sense — no communication necessary for knowing when to hold back and when to let it all go.
As for their debut LP — though it contains four tracks, the band recorded 11 that midsummer day with the studio’s loud air conditioning turned off and 2024’s election looming. The threat of an incoming kleptocracy weighed on the band. They discussed it during breaks and expressed it while creating nonverbal scores. In the end, the self-titled album isn’t prophetic, but rather a political record that reflects our uncertain present. Mastered by Justin Perkins at Mystery Room Mastering, the music searches for hope beyond despair, for light to kindle a conflagration in the darkness.
The tracks:
Glenbeulah
Scuppernong
Lake Eleven
Dunes