The discography of Ernesto Diaz-Infante runs from professional, elegant solo improv records to more informal collaborative sessions and bottom-end, lo-fi experiments. In that regard, a comparison with Eugene Chadbourne is in order. This eponymous 60-minute cassette released by the D.I.Y. label Seagull is a lot more perplexing than good. Judging from their titles, the tracks were recorded on October 31 and November 1, 2001. It is impossible to tell if they were performed in one take or if overdubbing has been used. Side one presents a collection of found sounds, conversation, and mundane noises (especially computer-related: keyboard typing, mouse clicking, Windows booting, etc.) buried under an annoyingly minimalist drone. The tone, which sounds as if it is coming out of one of those cheap mid-'80s Casio synths, insists on drilling a hole in your head for half an hour, preventing any chance to listen up close to what goes on in its shadow. Side two at least offers more to grasp. Instruments and manipulated sound files populate a layer of background noise. More eventful, it has its moments (especially a highly deranged violin-and-grunts section). Both tracks cut abruptly when the tape runs out. To anyone who kept track of Diaz-Infante's piano output on Pax Recordings and his guitar duets with Chris Forsyth, this cassette represents one strange journey deep down into the artist's psyche. It is possibly his most radical and alienating recording yet, something that doesn't translate into anything revolutionary or simply artistically convincing.
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AllMusic Review by François Couture