Llum Moll is a multilayered composition made with a
manipulated AM radio receiver subjected to interference
by LED lamps. The combination of the lamps in tandem
with the radio tuned to certain frequencies creates a
‘phantom organ’ sound, turning the receiver into an
instrument with a peculiar timbre and pitch.
The composition was made in two parts. The first
was to record and then select fragments with different
lengths, pitches and textures. The second was to re-
adjust the pitch of the chosen fragments and then
create a multilayered composition with a maximum
of eight simultanious tracks.
Llum Moll’s inherent electrostatic pollution and radio
static parasites give it its melancholy narrative: the
radio sings and howls but never speaks.
Composed, recorded and mixed in September 2010
Edition of 200 copies
Photo by Lali Barrière
Ferran Fages is a restless performer, who rarely does
the same thing twice. You approach any new record
with excitement and trepidation. Llum Moll contains
one single track, apparently recorded with a modified
AM radio receiver, although the music itself is rather
unlike what one would expect from such instrument-
ation. The CD is largely made up of the thinnest, most
shrill needle tones, layered in the most uncomfortably
close harmonic intervals. Think Sachiko M at her
most piercing, or the microphone feedback portions of
Prurient’s Black Vase. It’s an uncompromising listen.
About 30 minutes into the piece, the volume drops to
near silent sub-bass rumbles — quite a relief after what
preceded it. Listeners will be hard-pressed to find any-
thing so vacant, yet so challenging — like a dental
appointment, it should be endured, only not very often.
William Hutson in The Wire
On the way to work in the car this morning I listened
through to Ferran Fages’ new release Llum Moll on the
Entr’acte label. About ten hours later, I went back to
my car to drive back home. I got in, turned the key,
had a quick drink of water before settling down for the
hour long drive, and then sprayed the windscreen with
most of it when the CD suddenly kicked in and frightened
the life out of me. One of my work colleagues, leaving
around the same time, came over because he thought
my car’s alarm had gone off. Llum Moll is, then, some-
thing of an acquired listen.
Richard Pinnell at The Watchful Ear