One of the reasons why I liked 1-3, albeit weird, is that all of the albums all fulfill their numeric palindromes (ie* 0:11=1, 0:22=2, 0:33=3. The same holds true for 4.

The Music itself is very toned down & very focused. The Standout track for me even though it is relatively short is 4.7 (2:06). I am amazed that this music is improvised, because there is a lucid & structured quality.

I just hope that they come to the chicagoland area so I can see them in their natural element.

I hope to visit Norway someday, along with the other artic european countries someday. I believe they draw their music from their surroundings, in this it's Norway.

I assume that my review will be out of place because it seems like the only people that are interested in this music are the ones predisposed to finding it amazing. I, on the other hand, found it to be a joke. It was just a bunch of noise for an hour. I will obviously be bombarded with phrases like "you just don't understand this music," and that's fine because I don't understand it at all. But I extend a warning to all those who read a good review and decided to try it out (like I did). Only those passionately into bizarre avant-garde self important static will find this album worthwhile, for the rest of us law-abiding citizens this is a clear miss.

Group improvisation is a modern concept. The mechanics of improvising -- playing what's not on the page -- have been around since the beginning of time, hardwired into our brains and muscles. But musical improvisation has traditionally been narrowed down with strict sets of rules that define basic group roles, which notes to play and avoid (scales), and how long it all should last.

As avant-garde and early electronic music began to solidify in the mid 20th century, many of the conventions governing improvisation were brought under academic, even spiritual scrutiny. Born from these heady days were the quickly diverging threads of "free" jazz and experimental avant-classical modes of improvisation, which eschewed traditional temporal and harmonic limits while placing the burden of art on the moment of execution rather than the pre-prepared score.

Supersilent, a quartet of Norwegian improvisers, ties these loose threads of jazz and "academic" improvisation back together. The group's music is a profoundly unique blend of electronic and acoustic elements, and it's rigorously improvisational. In fact, the mysterious group refuses to rehearse or even discuss their music amongst themselves.

As the title suggests, this is their sixth CD of material, following the three-CD 1-3, 4, and 5, all released on Norway's fine Rune Grammofon label. As their name might imply, Supersilent do their best to dissolve completely from the process and presentation of their music: track titles are numbered (6.1, 6.2, etc.), the groupmembers' names are not listed anywhere, and their album art has consisted of a series of monochromatic templates.

The group's music follows suit, attempting to draw full attention to the collective output and none to the individual musician's contributions. Historically a "lead" instrument, Arve Henriksen's trumpet is usually so heavily processed (in real time; Supersilent also disdain most aspects of postproduction) that it blends in seamlessly with Helge Sten (often referred to as Deathprod) and Stale Storlokken's synthesizer manipulations. Similarly, Jarle Vespestad's percussion is comprised more of pure sounds and textures than rhythms, often employing both extremes of volume to further distort and disorient the drummer's place in the ensemble.

The lack of obvious genre conventions within Supersilent's sprawling, electro-acoustic model makes their coherent, suite-like mentality all the more impressive. The group take on '70s Miles, Varese-worthy experimentalism, and proto-ambient texture with equal verve, but the reflective tone on 6 occasionally threatens a quasi-New Age sensibility that softens the group's wonderful edges.

Such an open-ended music, where each track's constituent elements and feel are entirely unique, should betray the tendencies and personalities of the individuals involved. Amazingly, these kinds of ego-illuminating maneuvers are entirely absent. Although the music is improvised and entirely unplanned, Supersilent move as a singular entity, with the predetermined clarity and elegant cadence of formulated composition. The group's unedited process revels in the startling, "perfect imperfections" of selfless group improvisation.

Ben Sterling...