Floors And Frames: A Wild Ride Through Abstract Soundscapes
Alright, so let’s talk about Floors And Frames, this super niche but kinda mind-blowing album by Tim Olive, Jon Vaughn, and Carrie Gates. Released back in 2004 under the BricoLodge label (shoutout to Canada for birthing this gem), it’s one of those records that doesn’t just sit in the background—it grabs you by the ears and demands attention. The genre? Electronic. But not your typical bleeps-and-bloops kind. This is abstract, experimental stuff, the sort of music that makes you go “huh?” on the first listen but then keeps creeping back into your brain.
Let’s break it down a bit. The album has three tracks: “Floors,” “Frames,” and “Footnote.” I’ll admit, when I first hit play, I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into. It’s not exactly something you’d blast at a party unless your friends are really into avant-garde weirdness. But after a few spins, two tracks stuck out to me in particular—“Floors” and “Frames.”
“Floors” is where Carrie Gates’ turntable wizardry really shines. There’s this gritty, almost industrial vibe going on, like someone took the sound of a construction site and turned it into art. It’s chaotic but somehow still feels intentional, y’know? Like, you can tell there’s a method to the madness. And then there’s Tim Olive’s electric guitar sneaking in with these sharp, jagged edges that feel like they’re cutting through the noise. It’s not pretty or polished, but that’s what makes it memorable. You don’t forget something that sounds like it could’ve been recorded in an abandoned warehouse late at night.
Then there’s “Frames,” which feels like the calmer sibling of “Floors.” This one leans more into Jon Vaughn’s instrumental contributions, with layers of strange textures and tones that build up slowly. It’s hypnotic in this weird way—you start zoning out, and suddenly you realize you’ve been staring at the wall for ten minutes. Carrie Gates is back at it too, messing around with contact microphones and keyboards, adding these subtle little details that you might miss if you’re not paying attention. It’s the kind of track that rewards repeat listens because every time you hear something new.
Oh, and props to Tamara Bond for the cover design—it’s simple but fits the whole vibe perfectly. And Carrie Gates deserves extra credit for wearing so many hats here (literally): turntables, instruments, design, even running Blank Records. That’s dedication right there.
So yeah, Floors And Frames isn’t for everyone. If you’re looking for catchy hooks or sing-along lyrics, you’re gonna be disappointed. But if you dig music that challenges you, that makes you think, “What the heck am I even listening to?”—then this is worth checking out. Honestly, it’s the kind of album that reminds you how limitless music can be. Like, who else would think to combine contact mics, guitars, and turntables in such a bizarre yet cohesive way?
And here’s the random thought to leave you with: Listening to this album feels like walking into a room where everything’s slightly off-kilter—the furniture’s tilted, the lights flicker, and there’s this faint hum you can’t quite place. Weirdly unsettling, but also kinda beautiful.