US - Experimedia
Europe - Tesco Germany
Also available in Wax n' Facts record store in Atlanta, GA and Decatur CD in Decatur, GA.
Samples of the videos are available here: www.silentmediaprojects.com/made_micromega.html
Vital Weekly - "A true beauty to watch and hear here. A nice piece of spotted vinyl, a gatefold sleeve and a usb flash drive thingy with a thirty-five minute movie to the music. Pierre Jolivet, the man who named himself after a train (and a musical piece by Arthur Honneger), has been active since the early 80s and such I should/could know his work pretty well. I don't, actually. For whatever reasons lost in the mist of time, I have a very blurry idea about his music from those days and then, perhaps due to his moving to Ireland to work on his PhD in 'brainwave and sensorial perception applied to sound art', long periods in which we didn't hear any of his music. So in close to twenty years of Vital Weekly you might find only one review of his work, in Vital Weekly 630, a live recording from his in Russia, which was all about 'advanced feedback technology, based on the manipulation of sounds through motion sensors feeding and controlling a projected visual imagery' and there has been a track on a compilation from the same label who know release his LP/usb. Here he works with 'live de-instrumentation cut-up […] drawing inspiration from the work of Lou Reed, Brian Eno, Alvin Lucier and LaMonte Young'. Based on what I saw, Brian Eno, is the one that comes closest, both in terms of audio and video. The music is made with a 'single electric guitar, processed to fuse resonant cords with loop sequences in a stereophonic dialogue'. That makes already something that is too 'maxima', and not 'minimal' (Young) or 'conceptually minimal' (Lucier). The music has no longer anything to do with even remotely industrial music, but its a nice work of computer processed guitar music which has become some fine ambient music. The video consists of super-imposed loops of close-up imagery of guitars, making all sorts of different patterns and changes of colors, which works in a fine way, maybe even psychedelic; but perhaps the music is part of that psychedelic edge too. It bounces nicely about, as this is not the kind of drone music that would be common place in the world of ambient, but rather sounds like the opening chords of ambient dance record, but then that's looped and minimally changed throughout the entire thirty-some length of the LP and the movie. Minimally, but if you would skip parts and check shorter fragments you will note that the music has changed completely and it's a bit colder than in the opening sequences. But of course one should 'skip' records but play them in their entire form. This record is an excellent one, an overall great package, well executed and consistent in its high quality. It has probably nothing to do with his music from so many years ago, but then, I should probably check that one day, again. This record made me curious about the question: what did I miss back then?" (FdW)
A Closer Listen - "What a long, strange trip it’s been. 2013 marks Pierre Jolivet’s 30th year of making music, which makes him one of the longest-standing artists we’ve featured. In 1984, his brand of industrial power drone made him a hit on the darker Parisian dance floors; since then, he’s relocated to Ireland and shifted his attention to sparse electronic explorations. While some may consider this a mellowing, it’s more likely a maturing. In his middle age, the artist has become less interested in the beats than in what lies behind the beats.
Pacific 231‘s brand of music is a modern rarity. It’s neither the pleasant ambient of the mainstream nor the dark ambient of the supernatural; the timbre implies deep space, where no one can hear you scream. The artist’s cited influences include Eno and Lucier, but hints of The Orb and Future Sound of London are apparent here as well. The rough edges have been shorn, but the scars are still apparent: a coldness, a harshness, a light abrasion shuttled through the grooves. Add percussion to “Koppa”, increase the volume of the loops, and one can still intuit a thin connection between the old music and the new. The artist no longer sounds young and perturbed; he sounds seasoned and wise. He also sounds curious about the nature of space and sound. These two 17-minute tracks are comprised of interacting guitar loops that one suspects might play on their own if left unguarded. They travel with slow, constant speed as if through a debris field, protected by metal and the heft of their own weight.
The physical package is crucial. Ben Link Collins has helped to design an artifact noteworthy for its tactile appeal. The splattered black-and-white vinyl is gorgeous, and the enclosed USB stick is smartly disguised within what seems at first to be a credit card. Encoded within the stick is a 35-minute video that connects the two pieces on the vinyl, allowing viewers to regard them as a single piece. Like the music, it’s a collection of repeating loops: nuts, screws and wires, dancing dots and a color scheme in constant flux. One grows hypnotized while watching, losing all sense of time. The delivery system holds enormous promise. One imagines carrying music in one’s wallet and passing it to friends like business cards. This is yet another way in which the physical format may expand its resurgence. The artist and label are to be congratulated for their forward thinking." Richard Allen