First impressions � are they usually correct? They can be deceiving, they can be right on the money; an exact science it is not, certainly. Remember that maxim after inserting and hitting play on Vanishing Point, the newest disc by sound abstractionist and improviser Kahn. On first impression, this amounts to forty-plus minutes of hiss; you know, the sonic ephemera, the shadow, the leftover, if you will, that resides on the event horizons of magnetic tape, the kind of sonic "detritus" that engineers usually endeavor to remove, not emphasize. But, this being Jason Kahn, nothing is ever quite like it seems; he's too adept a composer, even when such composition is done on the fly, to waste his waking hours on empty posturing.

Created in the tragic wake of his daughter's death in 2007, Vanishing Point is both the noisiest and most confrontational of Kahn's numerous recordings. Not that this is noise of the Merzbow variety, but the music's emotionally charged surface reveals the artist nevertheless baring elements of his wracked soul. As the sole lengthy work unfolds it's evident Kahn's interested in aerobicizing his intellectual muscles through deep harmonic exercises in timbre, tone, and texture. Careful listening to the burgeoning mountains of hiss exposes layers of thick, Niblockian tones that jostle for position amongst the moist cacophony. Ideologically, one is likely to draw parallels between the "deep listening" concepts of Pauline Oliveros and her ilk rather than any of the hirsute denizens of the contemporary noise scenes. Additionally, though Kahn manipulates his sources to produce varying eddies of brusque soundwaves, this work tends to sidle up more to the kling-klang of today's drone meisters than anything out of the onkyo school. Kahn's embracing of "minimalism" in this regard closely resembles Greg Davis' recent Mutually Arising more so than the gruel of, say, Zbigniew Karkowski, whose engulfing sonic blasts preach volume instead of vivacity.

All theorizing to the contrary, Vanishing Point feels more cathartic than engaging. Kahn's conflicting turmoil achieves something of a boiling point throughout the piece's entirety, never quite achieving crescendo or ultimate release. It is, in an ironic contradiction, his most abrasive piece of work thus far, one so overtly personal that even stripped of context, makes for a particularly enervating listen.