It's intense, sometimes brutal music, but Stallones' fearlessness toward drones and freewheeling jamming puts him among mind-bending pioneers like Terry Riley. The sound has taken him on tour to Europe and Australia, but in ways Stallones — who's worked as a film archivist at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences — already seems much further away internally. His mixing of high art and lowbrow bro-isms (such as, say, his fondness for free jazz and his trucker hat collection) seems to embody the 26-year-old's omnivorous generation, one where music composition is less about making a statement than providing a singular world of escape.
"In the end, I don't see it as being about emotive versus unemotive," Stallones said. "Harsh noise, like free jazz, can be the most emotive show in town."
Infinite Body's bliss-riddled tone poems are simultaneously more traditionally "pretty" of the lot yet maybe the most difficult to parse. The young composer Kyle Parker, who began his career making much more violent music, builds simmering crescendos from snippets of distortion-slammed keyboards and samples vocals from a contact microphone. But he approaches chord changes and melody in ways that Erik Satie would find peer with, and one that leaves his work feeling emotionally ravaged and heartbroken despite being wholly instrumental and nearly impossible to unpack structurally.