Degrees of Iconicity: A Sonic Puzzle That Sticks With You
Guillermo Gregorio’s Degrees of Iconicity isn’t your typical classical-electronic mashup. Released in 2000 under the Swiss label hat[now]ART, this album feels like wandering through a museum where every room has its own vibe but somehow still fits together. It’s contemporary music that doesn’t try too hard to impress—it just exists, confident and weirdly comforting.
Let me start with “Counter-Composition,” the opening track. This one hits you right away, like a cold splash of water on a sleepy morning. The clarinet (played by Gregorio himself) dances around, sharp and angular, while the vibraphone chimes in like someone gently nudging you to pay attention. There’s something about how these sounds clash yet blend—it’s jarring but also oddly satisfying, like biting into a sour candy and realizing it’s exactly what you needed. I remember this track because it refuses to let you zone out. It keeps you guessing, second by second, and leaves you wondering if you’ve accidentally stepped into an avant-garde dream.
Then there’s “First Sketch For ‘Omaggio A Luigi Nono.’” If “Counter-Composition” is the cold splash, this one is more like sitting in a dimly lit café, eavesdropping on a conversation you don’t fully understand but can’t stop listening to. Fred Lonberg-Holm’s cello work here is haunting—slow, deliberate strokes that feel like they’re pulling at some deep, buried emotion. And when the acoustic bass joins in (shoutout to Kent Kessler and Michael Cameron), it’s like the floor drops out from under you. The piece builds tension without ever fully resolving it, leaving you hanging—but in the best way possible. It’s moody, raw, and sticks to your brain like gum on a hot sidewalk.
The whole album is packed with moments like these, thanks to Gregorio’s knack for layering instruments and ideas. You’ve got Carrie Biolo’s marimba adding texture, Art Lange producing everything with care, and Peter Pfister mixing/mastering so cleanly that even the quietest notes feel intentional. Oh, and props to Steve Mezger for engineering this thing—it sounds crisp without losing its human touch.
What makes Degrees of Iconicity stand out isn’t just its technical brilliance; it’s how personal it feels. Gregorio wrote, conducted, played multiple instruments, AND penned the liner notes. Dude clearly poured his soul into this project. But instead of feeling overbearing, it comes across as intimate, like he’s inviting you into his world—one filled with contradictions, questions, and beauty.
If I had to sum it up, I’d say this album is like staring at abstract art. At first glance, it might seem messy or confusing, but the longer you sit with it, the more meaning emerges. Honestly, I didn’t expect to connect with it as much as I did. By the end, I found myself thinking about my own life’s “degrees of iconicity”—those little moments that shape who we are, whether we notice them or not.
So yeah, give this album a spin if you’re tired of predictable playlists. Just don’t blame me if it messes with your head in the best way possible.
