Paul Horn

From gothling.com – 7/7/2003
OUSIA ” Face the robot ” ( Mutant Music )

Minneapolis’ Ousia has been described as ambient/noise/drone, experimental , ethereal, and a term of their own choosing, ‘snowbient’. I like ‘snowbient’ as a term; I think it matches Ousia rather well. Based on listening to ‘Face the Robot’ one could also put Ousia in the ‘ethereal’ or ‘dreamy’ box, but I would hesitate to add it to the New Age box (heaven forbid!) – there is nothing insipid about this release. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was definitely not what I got. ‘Face the Robot’ is not an album of songs, it’s a fluid cohesive piece. I liken it more to a symphony of sorts with movements that have names – an ambient space-rock symphony. I’ve suggested that if one likes In the Nursery, one might like this. Now, I know people will argue with me, claiming that they sound nothing alike, and that is certainly true. No, I am reminded of In the Nursery due to being a fan of In the Nursery’s soundtrack work – Ousia could also produce excellent soundtracks. ‘Face the Robot’ feels to me like the soundtrack of being lost in space, before one suffocates. There’s wonder there, and a dreamy sort of desperation, and the whole majesty of creation.

Rather a lot to place on the shoulders of an album, I know, but I think ‘Face the Robot’ can take it. I could get bogged down in describing each ‘song’ in detail, but I don’t think I will at this time. This is an all-or-nothing album, love it or hate it. I love it, personally. It flows, and I am a big fan of albums that have flow. One of the things I like about ‘Face the Robot’ is that unlike a lot of dark ambient/drone bands, Ousia does not get caught up in trying to provide a ‘beat’. Beat that exists, such as in ‘Robot In’, is subtle and understated.

This is a late-nite, large-headphones kind of album. I was thoroughly impressed with the quality of the production and the seamlessness of the blending of sounds. It goes down smoothly, but might be paranoia-inducing if consumed along with a cup of coffee.

Ousia is the cream of the ambient crop.

Stars: 5

Recommended if you Like: The Orb, In the Nursery, Boards of Canada, The Hafler Trio, True Color of Blood

Tracklisting:

1. Robot In
2. Ebow Lullabye
3. Face the Robot
4. In Absence
5. Binary Sort
6. Preconscious Processing
7. Minuet 5
8. Sound Check
9. Counter Rotation
10. Solar Limen
11. Robot Out

–bloodlossgirl

From Dream Magazine #3 – Spring 2003
OUSIA ” Face the robot ” ( Mutant Music )

Eleven fluid seamless active ambient dronescape instrumentals. Trippy and working well at the warm atmospheric end of the synthetic spectrum; it’s not so much about beats, it’s more pulse, tone and spatial delay than dance soundtracks. Consistently evocative sonic wallpaper with great depth of field and invention. Reminds me of some Haroumi Hosono’s more ambient stuff. – George Parsons

By the Vinyl Junkie Sept 2002
Ousia – Face The Robot (Mutant Music)

www.mutantmusic.com

“Robot In” opens this Minneapolis quartet’s (pronounced ooh-SEE-ah) long anticipated follow-up to their award winning debut, 1997s Why Is That a Four with smooth, chill-out electronics. “Ebow Lullabye” combines the ambient atmospherics of Eno with the glacially shifting tones of Stars of The Lid or Azusa Plane. I was also reminded of Aeoliah’s Angel Love, my favorite “chill-out” release of all time, so we’re on strong footing here. Krautrock fans may also hear references to Tangerine Dream and (K)Cluster, which will give you a good idea of where these guys heads are at. Emanating from the frozen tundra of Minnesota, they prefer to think of their ambient/noise/drone compositions as “Snowbient,” and that’s as good a description of their sound as I could ever come up with. Songtitles are insignificant in instrumental music, serving merely as identificational place holders on a CD booklet, and they mean even less on this release, which should be experienced in its entirety as sequenced by the band. Besides, I doubt much grey matter was wasted coming up with titles like “Robot In,” “Robot Out,” “Face The Robot,” “Ebow Lullabye,” “Sound Check”,…you get the idea. This is not the type of album you’re gonna invite your friends over to hear and toss on track 5 and say, “Here…listen to this song.” It is not a collection of songs, rather a series of moods, and the subtle shifting of those moods carries the listener through to its conclusion. You can also add this to your list of albums to fall asleep to.

The rest of the album retains the same high quality/low maintenance electronic hum with subtle use of Paul Horn’s treated guitar and Dave Onnen’s rumbling bass, and with three keyboardists doubling on two guitars and no drummer, Face The Robot is highly recommended to folks who prefer the more comatose side of today’s music, as well as those of you whose idea of a peak listening experience is to stare at the walls and listen to your speakers hum.

From Zoopa Loop – September 2002
OUSIA ” Face the robot ” ( Mutant Music )

Ousia is a four piece band coming from the USA and exploring an ambient space music which has a serious nod to freezing ambient synths’ music . That’s why they surely described their music as Snowbient. I don’t know if they have already recorded some previous albums under the moniker of Ousia but they were originally known as Blue shift. It seems that they just keep on playing ambient droney compositions but under a different name. “Face the robot” consists of 11 tracks covering different shades of cosmic music where a multitude of sounds, drones and noises blend with the instrumental dreamy basis of Ousia’s stuff to give birth to an unique crystal clear atmosphere. Each track sets a mellow ambience built upon some multi layered backgrounds where keyboards and guitars seem to echo back on some invisible walls ( “Ebow lullabye”, “Binary sort”, “In absence” ). These echoing and light melodies are a big part of the swirling spacey sensation that I felt during most of the numbers ( “In absence”, “Solar limen” ). The add of bubbling sounds, liquid waves and others dreamy samples increases the whirling effect as well ( “Preconscious processing”, “Binary sort” ). Sometimes, few electronics rhythmics set the pace and join the ambient segments to create some colder structures during several tracks ( “Binary sort”, “Sound check”,  “Robot in” and “Counter rotation” ). That’s where the band shows clearly its electronic influences which are more important than it seems specially on the repetitive layers and movements on which Ousia based most of its music. It creates a light hypnotic feel which is really welcome ( “Sound check”, Counter Rotation” ).

Ousia is a sonic sometimes abstract adventure through the meanders our subconscious where a myriad of sounds bloom into a freezing atmosphere. “Face the robot” was a pretty cool discovery for me , I hope it will be one of yours this year.

From Aural Innovations #20 (July 2002)

Ousia pronounced ooh-see-ah, is a quartet of musicians who delve into a world drenched in what they term as ambient noise drone compositions or ‘Snowbient’ as it is known to those on the right side of the fence. The band is made up of Paul Horn on guitar, keyboards, 309 and radio, Dave Onnen on bass, Jason S. Shapiro on keyboards and sampler, and Fred Teasley on guitar and keyboards. Together they produce a definite atmospheric style of non-music that is fast becoming more prominent with many bands in the experimental scene. ‘Face The Robot’ is an 11 track album that lasts over 50 minutes. Their sound is as they explain it, very ambient noise droning. The prominence lies in synth orientated stuff, the oscillations of heavy based key sounds encapsulate the whole album. The driving atmospheres take meaning as they mould the listeners’ ears to adjust to their patterns. All tracks are very ethereal. Tracks like “Robot In”, “Ebow Lullabye” and “Sound check” all glide mellow and dreamlike through their course, easily allowing the mind to glimpse a place in time. The Synth Rhythms here are not quite the in-your-face dance beats thankfully, they produce good foundations for the bass to make itself known, very slidey stuff with a lot of delay. “Solar Limen” and “Robot Out” both allow the guitars to take the forefront with mellow picking over the oscillations of heavy synths with good results. There are moments when the pieces drive home almost The Orb or Banco de Gia like stuff; it is an album in the mould of that style.

There are a few bands that I could liken Ousia too… Landing in certain respects although not the same musical direction. They produce long pieces that are bound in creation of noise and atmosphere. The Orb and Banco De Gia, as well as Anubian Lights all could have similar outlooks. Tangerine Dream could be mentioned as the pioneers of this genre, as well as other innovators. All in all if you like to be immersed in simplistic noise expansions geared for the headphone listener rather than the party crowd, if you like the more ambient beats rather than in-your-face, Ousia should be checked out. Very mellow and thought provoking.

Reviewed by Albert Pollard

From babysue May 2002

Ousia – Face the Robot (CD, Mutant Music, Ambient/electronic) Another solid release from electronic experimental artist Ousia. The blurred, abstract cover artwork perfectly compliments the heady music that is featured on this album. Note that this is not dance/trance music. Instead, these compositions are sometimes experimental and accidental…sometimes well-planned…and sometimes simply landscapes of electronic sound. This stuff is for listeners who enjoy being propelled into another dimension through music. The eleven spacey compositions on Face the Robot heighten the senses and give the listener the impression that he/she is either dreaming or evolving into another dimension. Trippy, surreal, and often hypnotic…Ousia tunes are the stuff that dreams are truly made of. Our favorites: “Face the Robot,” “Binary Sort,” “Sound Check,” “Solar Limen.” This is an excellent and absorbing album that is certainly over the heads of most listeners… (Rating: 5+++)

City Pages – May 27, 1998
Yes Future!

by Peter Sholtes | image by Dan Corrigan

Ousia breaks up. Ana Voog leaves her bedroom. The mother ship of knob-twaddling electronic music descends for a local showcase.

Jason Shapiro’s apartment is so free of clutter that the Kiss dolls on the mantle stand out like clowns in a museum. In fact, they’re little monuments to an otherwise undetectable rock ‘n’ roll obsession. “I bought my first Kiss album when I was four,” he says. “Wanting to go see Kiss and knowing I couldn’t was just awful.” Shapiro, 24 years old, finally did see Kiss on their reunion tour, but he’s hardly grown up to be Paul Stanley. Outfitted in what might be called office casual–save for his early-era Depeche Mode coif–Shapiro works as a computer programmer in downtown Minneapolis and usually gets to bed before 11 p.m.: “I’m really lame,” he says sheepishly.

Many a local music fanatic would beg to differ. Shapiro’s electronic music ensemble, Ousia, has gained a strong following for its weird, gorgeously textured space-fuzz music. Live, the band wears matching outfits and gold masks–glam having taught Shapiro the value of putting on a good show. “If four Minnesota guys walked up there in flannels and did what we do, I think we would lose our audience right away.”

Yet Ousia will soon meet this fate nonetheless. The day before I interview Shapiro, he’s encountered some bad news. “It all happened over e-mail,” he says, sounding deflated, but not bitter. Ousia has just broken up. The split was long in coming, with time constraints–not personal or musical differences–precipitating the end. A day later, the group’s members have gotten together to talk and rehearse for the gig that will be their final show. Though they’d recently sworn off wearing the masks, Shapiro says they’ll don them one last time.

This Saturday, Ousia will head up the Future Perfect Sound System, a recurring multimedia, multiartist “be-in” that served as Ousia’s training ground back in 1996. The band’s improvised hums and buzzes will fill the expansive Weisman Art Museum, where the entire shindig will be lit by the Magic Lantern Light Show (famous for their work with the Doors) and broadcast on the Net. Obscure but excellent artists A Most Happy Sound, Uneven, Lost in Translation, and Satoshi Shinozaki will perform alongside respected DJs such as Rob “Tempest” Williams and REV 105 legend Kevin Cole, who will appear from Seattle via the Net to “spin” a yarn by DJing a batch of children’s story records. Guitarist Chuck Zwicky will play along with stories by local folkie Larry Long, and even indie-rocker Dylan Hicks will stop by for a bit of impromptu avant-gardening.

Future Perfect organizer Chris Strouth has specialized in these kinds of multimedia projects since he started dreaming up experimental music blowouts at the Red Eye in the early ’90s. But Future Perfect is a culmination of sorts, an effort to wash away the dividing line between rock show and rave. “What Chris said with Future Perfect was, ‘Look, here’s electronic music, and you don’t have to dance to it,’” Shapiro explains. “You can enjoy it in a different way.” The same could be said of Ousia, who without venues like Future Perfect might never have found an audience.

Last year, the event moved from First Avenue to the Walker Art Center, giving it some high-culture cachet, and a nonrock context where the idea of undanceable dance music somehow seemed less pretentious than in First Ave.’s more traditional bar setting. The continuing emphasis on atmosphere may allow Future Perfect to become a sort of ’90s version of Warhol’s Exploding Plastic Inevitable, a space where unusual music (say, the Velvet Underground humping that mighty E Major into eternity) makes perfect sense.

The import of a scene like this to Ousia cannot be overstated: As Shapiro readily admits, it’s doubtful that three years ago an ambient electro band without any lyrics or block-rockin’ beats could have drawn the crowds Ousia draws, spit out a wonderful CD (1997′s Why Is That a Four?), and received the plaudits of an ecstatic local press and the Minnesota Music Academy.

Shapiro’s earliest music experiences had more in common with the guitar braying of Minneapolis’s last musical renaissance. Yet after spending his formative years playing drums in punk-rock bands, Shapiro became enamored with classical avant-garde music, and sold his drum set before graduating high school. When asked if a lot of nonelectronic bands go through an early, unrecorded avant-garde “phase” (like the Clash with their mid-’70s sheet-metal drumming), he nods. “It usually gets discouraged right away,” he says, adding that people who want to “make it” often leave rec-room dissonance behind. “Developing a vocabulary of noise and implementing it in a way that’s interesting and original is very difficult.”

But during Ousia’s two-year existence, a new milieu has emerged to nourish oddballs communicating through a new language composed of ham-radio feedback, Casio jazz, and de-funked rare grooves. Cabarets such as the New Atlantis at Jitters (which Shapiro co-founded) and the Polar Bear Club complement Future Perfect’s goal of tweaking the music-consuming experience. They also tap into a new pool of artists: “I think that there’s a lot more people doing this kind of music than we know,” Shapiro says. “It’s just happening in their bedrooms and in their basements. I don’t think electronic music has grown, actually. I just think it’s moved further out in the open.”

Call it the musical equivalent of Xerox art, or just rock ‘n’ roll in the age of the screen saver. But the aural content-providers moving in and out of the Future Perfect scene may be the next wave in local music. “I’ve played in all sorts of scenes,” says Shapiro. “Punk, alternative rock, free jazz, classical, you name it. And electronic music is the most supportive and noncompetitive scene. People are as excited to hear you as they are to play for you.”

In this environment, Ousia’s members will continue their various side projects, and Shapiro plans to make a go of it full time, something Chris Strouth says most cybercomposers never do. “You can make infinitely more as a computer programmer than as a techno guy,” Strouth says. “It’s different than the average rock band in that these guys are smart and have options. They’re not gonna throw that away.”

Strouth emphasizes other obstacles: Where nearly every guitar noodler can land on a stage, venues for electro nerds remain harder to find. Strouth has experienced resistance from club bookers firsthand. “Clubs absolutely hate having electronic music,” he says. “The sound guys are always really bad, and inevitably blast Skynyrd after the show’s over just to piss you off.”

Granted, not everything the Star Wars generation is composing in its bedroom studios will be the next Let It Be (or even the next Let It Bleep). But Strouth’s event and others like it do encourage people who normally wouldn’t perform to give it a go. “The way I kind of approach Future Perfect is as a sound system,” he says. “It gets people together and drags them out.”

In this spirit, Strouth introduced Shapiro to Ana Voog, perhaps the Cities’ most distinct bedroom artist, who last year turned her everyday routine into a work of Net performance art. Voog (a.k.a. Rachael Olson) was perhaps best known as singer/guitarist for the Blue Up?, until she placed digital cameras around her apartment and began uploading images every two minutes on her Web site, www.anacam.com. When the Anacam caught her in “the act” with an old flame last November, she became the stuff of Web legend–an odd circumstance for a self-described introvert who professes to hate parties.

The site itself has the tone of a personal fanzine, but without the typical six-month delay time. Check out this passage from her May 12 ANAlog: “On a sad note, my boyfriend Siam’s incredible ambient band broke up today. They were called Ousia and they were my fave local band… Siam is being interviewed tomorrow by the local paper called City Pages. They are interviewing him about the future of electronic music.”

Shapiro, or “Siam” (his old Web handle), first spoke to Voog in her online chat room before meeting her in person after last November’s Future Perfect show. Their kindred spirits soon clicked: “We both have an obsession with the early-’80s New Romantic era,” Shapiro says. Shapiro and Ousia’s Dave Onnen agreed to back up Voog live, in support of her crisp new electro-pop album (handily titled anavoog.com and produced by Bobby Z, ex of Prince and the Revolution).

True to reclusive Voog form, her late-April debut gig was, well, nationally televised: In what must be local music’s TV Moment of the Year, the rhinestone-decorated diva rendered her new-wavey tune “Please God” with the assurance of a vet on Vibe. Somehow, she slipped an unbleeped “fuck me” past the censors, and host Sinbad, for his part, repeatedly brought up the notorious Anacam tryst. Thus Voog’s private world found its widest audience ever.

“My heart was beating like a crazy rabbit during the song,” she tells me weeks later. “After it was done, I was just happy I hadn’t thrown up or hit the microphone.” Still, Voog found her May 7 homecoming gig at Ground Zero just as daunting. “I was more scared for that show than Vibe. I didn’t really want to play in this town yet ’cause I was too shy.” Fresh from a headlining concert in Las Vegas last week, Voog and Shapiro will take a break to perform ambient music at Future Perfect under the name Purrotika.

Though Voog would seem a perfect heroine for the rec-room wave of electro, November’s Future Perfect was her first exposure to the scene. But that and the New Atlantis cabarets have made her a convert. “All these people who usually just kind of sit around and twiddle around with ham radios, all of a sudden they came out of their houses,” she says. “They were the same as me because I never leave my house either. I said, ‘I’ve been looking for all you guys forever.’ I was just so happy to find this strange little community of musicians.” CP

Future Perfect Sound System starts at 8 p.m. Saturday at the Weisman Art Museum; call 625-9495.

RE: YES FUTURE!
By Jason S. Shapiro

I’d like to express my gratitude toward Peter Scholtes for the positive
article on myself, and the non-dance-oriented-electronic music scene in
Minnneapolis.  One point that I would like to emphasize is that Ousia was
a collaboration in every sense of the word.  Paul Horn, Dave Onnen, and
Fred Teasley contributed no more and no less to the sound of Ousia than I
did.  Besides the element of putting on a “show”, we utilized the masks to
provide an anonymity so as that no particular individual was focused upon
in the group.  Although Scholtes didn’t say anything that contradicts this
point, I just wanted to emphasize the importance of each musician in
Ousia, including Mike Croswell who helped out on the title track of our
cd, and performed with us many times in a live setting.  On a similiar
note, Rod Smith and Dave Lofquist deserve recognition for setting up the
New Atlantis with me.  In fact, as my schedule has become increasingly
busy, they really have done an amazing job taking up the slack that I have
left during my recent absence (with the out of state Ana Voog live dates).

It’s been my sincere pleasure to work with these musicians, and I hope to
continue to do so in various forms.

Jason S. Shapiro
Minneapolis, MN

Taken From CityPages – May 13, 1998
BEST LOCAL NOISE BAND
Ousia

Fifteen years after the Hüskers’ noise grail Metal Circus, most (maybeall) variations on the Whitey Guitar Squall theme seem entirely played out.But ambient-noisists Ousia don’t play guitars; they twaddle with knobs. And their scatterbrained electronic drones weld blankets of barely audible breakbeats to song structures that are as mutable as chance. Their debut, Why Is Thata Four?, may be the quietest, most elusive noise candy of the year, but atthis late date in the history of blurt, quiet, elusive noise might be the bestnoise going. BEST NEW NIGHTCLUB
The Twilight Lounge

The Twin Cities clubscape typically grows when old-guard drinking holes such as Mayslacks or the Terminal Bar either build stages in the corneror elevate the hipness quotient of their band bookings. The new music space with the best environmental control, though, would be the Twilight Lounge, the remodeled back room of the Jitters Cafe in downtown Minneapolis. The aptly named Twilight is like a ballroom crossed with a bedroom, with plush circular booths, glittery decoration, and a floor that serves as the stage.It’s classy and comfortable enough to doze off in while listening to blissfulsets by the DJs and trance/rocktronica bands (Ousia, Skye Klad, and Metaphor) that often perform there on weekends in a low-key showcase called the New Atlantis. Cross over to Jitters’ acoustic stage up front if you need achange of pace. But get it while you can: Rumors continue to surface that the block containing both Jitters and the Times Bar and Cafe could be slated for demolition to make way for the new Target tower.

Taken From Pulse- March 11, 1998

TWIN TOWN TRIP GUIDE
By Mark Wheat

The flyers sent to electronic signposts all over townwere vague: OUSIA, KHONSU, A BEVY OF SPICE DUDES,and THE INEVITABLE MR.SANDMAN. Aaah yes, the prerequisitefor scene-building is mystery. Walking through the comfortably crowdedwine par of Jitters, I briefly stopped to acknowledge the wizenedyet cherubic musings of the Caveman, John Knowles, strumminghis guitar and singing in glorious sonic juxtaposition to what was plannedto occur in the back room. They mystery lingered. But once I stopped inthe anteroom, the vestibule of the Twilight Lounge, a decompressionchamber lined with billowing drapes, to pay the paltry admission fee, I feltas though I had been ushered into another dimension. Just as the members of Ousiatook their places, poised over keyboards and effects pedals, dressed intheir black boiler suits and silver replicant masks, Ana Voog appearedin a seat set right in front of the band, as if beamed down to attend.She had spent the day in front of the mirror and presumably in front ofthe camera, which 24/7 shows the webworld what Ana is doing. Her new starrises, with a major label debut, from the ashes of The Blue Up?She had applied jewels to her face in symmetrical patterns that accentedthe pointed blonde spikes teased into her hair. The skin-tight dress wasa weird marine color and the fur coat was white – very, very white. Thesonic structures built by the band defied song form, cresting in wave afterwave of improvised beauty. The extraordinarily controlled ambience neverdistorted in the face of the enclosed confines, yet appeared to be ableto envelop a stadium with its power.

It smells like a stereotypical scene thing, like a castingagent did a very good job and I enjoy it because and despite of this. Catchit before it’s gone…oopps…maybe it’s too late already. If a hack likeme was there it must be passe. Sorry.

Taken From Transmission- February 9, 1998

OUSIA: Why Is That A Four
By Andy Larson

To put it simply, Ousia (pronounced ooh-see-ahh) make mind-blowing music. The songs drone through their existence, seemingly floating in thin air. Ousia represents some kind of vague outer sphere many drone/ambient bands fumble around trying to find.

Ousia wall of sound bridges the gap between electronica and drone. Guitars hold equal power with analogue synths. Once everything falls into place in their songs their self described sound of “snowbient” makes quite a bit of sense. One could picture listening to this while driving through a Minnesota snowstorm and having it work as a perfect soundtrack. The word symphonic comes to mind more than once while listening to this record. The synths weave together with a droning distorted guitar part in the foreground. On other songs like “Frog Pond” (which captures a Minnesota summer evening quite well) the instruments replicate sounds you’ve heard before, but you never thought you’d hear on record. I feel like I can hear the seasons these songs were written in, winter dominates this record though, the intense Minnesota winters have warped these men of Ousia. That is one thing I can thank winter for.

Taken From MAGNET- January/February 1998

OUSIA – Why Is That A Four? / MEISHA- Meisha
By Fred Mills

While these two dimension-folding releases have, on thesurface, little in common stylistically – Meisha being minimalist and guitar-based,Ousia of a more expansive, electronica-informed bent – the pair does seemto hail from a similar head space. These days, genres are being twistedand transmorgrified at such a rapid pace that you practically need a scorecardto tally up the positions of the veterans, rookies and cheerleaders; neitherMeisha nor Ousia seems unduly concerned with the industry balance sheet,both being far more intrigued by the emotional and spirtual sides to musicmaking… {Meisha Review Omitted} Ousia, formerly known as BlueShift, is, as one suspects, more extroverted by virtue of the quintet’salien-costumed stage attire. Astro-man chic notwithstanding, the musicis otherworldly in the most benign and compelling sense. At times it seemsas if the waves of synth melodies and treated-to-the-point-of-unrecognizabilityguitar tones come bubbling up from some subconscious point, like a hazymemory; other times, massive dynamic contrasts and jagged textures suggestthe onset of a nightmare. Rich, ambient droney tunes contrast with edgier,experimental tracks (the title cut even features a didgeridoo being batteredinto pieces by the snarling ghost of Tangerine Dream) – but all the materialhere has the power to transport the open-minded listener to those placeswhere the imagination runs free.

Taken from BabySue, November, 1997
OUSIA – Why Is That A Four?(CD, UltraModern/TRG, Electyronic)

Really COOL electronic soundscape CD. Ousia isfive people who manage to come up with a real winner (for folks into abstractelectronic CDs). These are not songs in the typical sense of the word.Instead, this band takes sounds and layers them together intelligently.The overall effect is like dreaming or zoning out on a hot summer afternoon.The song titles are as abstract as the music: “Vessel Mylar,” “Innate Principles,”"Future Perfect,” “Position Ellipse,” “Angular Pillow Gate”… This bandobviously doesn’t give a goddamn shit about radio airplay or making money.They might name their next release Why Was That A Five?…becausethat’s what we’re giving this fabulously weird disc. Daddy LIKES this onea LOT… (Rating: 5)

From the CityPages – October 29. 1997
Ousia:Why Is That a Four?

by Jon Dolan

Ousia  Why Is That a Four?  UltraModern

“VASSEL MYLER” AND “Architects of Fear,” from Ousia’s near-impenetrable debut, take wicked drum’n'bass rhythms and bury them deep in walls of distortionand oceans of ambient opacity. Electronic music’s funk energy is subjugatedby mounds of sounds to the point that you’re almost made to feel that themusic’s black roots are being forcefully denied. Which isn’t quite thecase. Like the new Spring Heel Jack and the much-vilified collage-hop workof DJ Spooky, this is funk-derived music that seeks out roots in Europeanmodern classical and the lotion-like experimentalism of Brian Eno or MortonSubotnick. But unlike Eno’s Music for Films, or Mort’s SilverApples of the Moon, Ousia has bite. And it also has a beautiful edgethat keeps the tracks from becoming a mere stoner symphony, or, as theclichéd dis goes, “aural wallpaper.” The funk is in the house, butit’s chained up in the basement. On Why Is That a Four?, the age-old maxim “it’s got a great beatand I can dance to it” is recast as “it may or may not have a beat at all,but I can read to it.” Even if the disjointed groove on “Why Is That aFour?” or the 12-minute head-rub “Angular Pillow Gate” do suggest groovemusic, the main idea here is distance. You’re not so much drawn into theslow pull of “Future Perfect” and the trance-like “Outer Perimeter” asyou’re asked to confront them. Once that’s accomplished, then youcan let yourself get drawn in (though you’ll never come close to grooving).And while overcoming that confrontation stage (i.e., understanding theseincredibly cerebral songs) may require an adroit application of the HeisenbergUncertainty Principle, the reward is worth the math.

Taken From the StarTribune – October 10, 1997

Variety Section

In the world of spacier sounds, there are two cool CD’sto focus your telescope on… {excerpt about Big Sky’s CD removed} Meanwhile, the street buzz for the new CD by Ousia (OOH-see-uh) is building loud and fast.  “Why Is That A Four?” is an ambient record that somehow rocks.  8 p.m. today, Twilight Lounge behind Jitters, 1026 Nicollet Mall, Minneapolis.  333-8511.  (Jim Meyer)

Taken from The Minnesota Daily – A&E – October 1, 1997

Ousia isn’t the easiest band to grasp, but that’s just fine with them. It’s when people start noticing their work– and loving it — that makes them wonder.

“I’ve been so used to listening to music that makes everyone say, ‘Whatthe hell is this?’ that I got used to people not liking what I play,” says Jason Shapiro, Ousia’s keyboardist. “So the fact that people are likingour work is really weird, actually.” Why Is That a Four? (Prospective Records), the local group’s debut album — a hypnotic morass of ambient, trance and avant-garde guitarnoise — wheels and soars above the most minimal of melodic frameworks.Perfect for inducing visions and scaring the cat, but it’s unapproachablefrom the dancefloor’s standpoint (you can’t shake much of anything to it)and they’ve got no snappy lyrics to sing. Instead of a single frontman,they cultivate a unified anonymity, performing in masks and costumes. And,after ditching the Blueshift moniker, they’ve got that darn unpronounceable name (it means, in Aristotelian metaphysics, “being” or “substance”).

But then again, maybe it’s not such a surprise that Ousia’s fanbase is growing. Their music, if you’re in the mood, is viscous, complex and downright spooky: Why Is That a Four? works best in a darkened room during an October thunderstorm, and who doesn’t love a good scare now and then?

And if the electronica trend has done anything, it’s reawakened public awareness to the experimental electronic music of the ’70s and early ’80s, a legacy to which Ousia’s soundscapes lay direct ancestral claim. Shapiro cites Kraftwerk, Tangerine Dream, early Can, and Syd Barret-era Pink Floyd (“up to Ummagumma”) as influences — the latter of which inexorably gives Ousia its eerily psychedelic edge.

“Ideally,” Shapiro says, “our music induces active listening …zoningin, zoning out, letting the music alter your mood… Whenever we play as how, we get a pretty strong reaction either way. There’ll be the people that leave after a minute, and there’ll be those that sit there and get into it.”

Strange, using the expression “sit there” along with “getting into it,”but that’s hitting Ousia’s nail on the head. Sixty minutes worth of WhyIs That a Four? doesn’t generate loads of physical motion, but themind — if that’s not spinning crazily, something’s definitely wrong.

As with most ambient, experimental groups, Ousia’s more concerned with describing textures than matching beats, and appreciating their music demands a greater role of the intellect than the booty. Not that Ousia’s a bunch of pompous, ivory-tower snobs — Shapiro was watching The Incredible Hulk during our interview — they’re just more concerned with metaphysics than, say, Korn.

Which explains both the album’s title and Ousia’s musical philosophies.”We were looking at how Braille comes up with numbers,” Shapiro explains,”wondering why the Braille sign for ‘four’ means ‘four’.” Just as a word corresponds to the concept only in your mind, so Ousia’s music questionsthe relationship of listener to listened. Why Is It a Four? definitely communicates something, but to say it’s a universal communiqu‚ would be way over-the-top. Ousia’s droning sweeps are scary, but how scary — andwhy — depends upon who’s listening.

From CityPages – A List – July 30, 1997 Friday 1 Music

OUSIA – The band was formerly knownas Blue Shift, and the latest effort from ex-Shapeshifter guitarist Paul Horn makes slowly climaxing, electronic mood music (they’re regulars atthe electro-friendly Future Perfect nights), yet it’s guitar-based and pointedly theatrical. This is the prerelease party for the band’sAug. 12 release, Why Is That A Four?, and if nothing else go for the cozy environs of the Twilight Lounge, the semi-new music room in the back of Jitters that’s an ideal setting for this sort of extended wig-out. $3. 8 p.m. Twilight Lounge, 1026 Nicollet Mall, Mpls.;333-8511. (Groebner)

Taken from TheMinnesota Daily – A&E – March 13, 1997
NOTE – Ousia were formerly called”Blue Shift” until late March, 1997

music

Laibach and Blue Shift. First Avenue. 6 p.m. $8; $6 in advance. ID show.338-8388. Slovenian band Laibach have been creating their unique brand of industrial music for more than 15 years. Laibach’s aesthetic has alwayshad them working in opposition to Western cultural imperialism, and their recent projects have focused on reinventing Western pop music in an attemptto turn Western culture upside down. Their latest album, Jesus Christ Superstar,includes a cover of the title track as well as a cover of Prince’s “TheCross.” Laibach last came to town in order to support their album Let It Be, on which they recreated the entire Beatles’ album. Past shows haveproven to be very theatrical, making them appear to be as much about performance art as music. Local band Blue Shift open the show. They have been creatingelectronic waves recently, including a performance on Radio K’s Off the Record and headlining the Best New Bands of ’97 in the 7th Street Entry.Blue Shift’s free-flowing electronic music varies from techno to experimental avant garde and is complemented by the best stage costumes seen in Minneapolissince Supernova last came through. — Will Bourne