On Schizophrenia as Architecture, Max Eilbacher moves around almost incomprehensibly, meticulously spreading out sounds and adjusting temperaments. Max, a member of Baltimore’s beloved Horse Lords, draws on his previous solo work and his time with Needle Gun on Schizophrenia as Architecture. You might be able to draw a comparison to the synth interludes on Hidden Cities or Interventions. It doesn’t pull you in by undeniable grooves like a Horse Lords album might, but by the associations and images you can draw by hearing its noisy, metallic, and sometimes malleable, tones and rhythms sitting next to each other. This album is not about immersion. It’s anti-scape.
Over four tracks, that honestly could have been divided into any number, Max relentlessly subjects you to his indulged musings. One part in “Instance Room / HPMTC+Rhythms,” the opening track, sounds like someone fishing through a utensil drawer, who’s then suddenly attacked by a hose. “Afrid hamami” sounds like a pinball machine rigged with guillotines or an orchestra of power washers and pin drops. Parts of “You Have to Pay for the Public Life” sound like curling with microwaves, but others sound like bird calls filtered through tin cans or the inner thoughts of an upset tea kettle. Regardless, Schizophrenia as Architecture at any point in its duration could undoubtedly be paired with a Jan Svankmajer animation.
Schizophrenia as Architecture might best be thought of as a set of View-Master slides. Parts appear and drift off; they sound like sketches at different levels of completion. And it also functions like a View-Master. Its aphasic-like stutter, in its motions from one image to the next, has the same sort of drag and broad narration that the View-Master’s little lever offers.