Tim Hecker – Oval Space, London 14/04/14

My entire day had been blighted by a god awful case of the Mondays. To be perfectly honest, going to see someone whose sound has been described as “melancholic”, “negative” and “decaying” was none too tempting. But curiosity killed the catatonia – it’s not often you can watch a future doctor of noise – and at nearly 10pm, I found myself at the Oval Space.

With a career spanning thirteen years, Tim Hecker released his most recent album in October 2013, finding it the receipt of numerous 8/10 reviews. Running parallel is his research – he’s studying for a PhD in the history of loud sound in the 20th century. He claims there is but a “mild cross-pollination” between his two strands of work, but this is drawn into question as tonight’s venue is engulfed in hardware noises and industrial static.

Hecker’s sound is dense and enveloping, one where intensely hypnotic refrains are looped intelligently but endlessly. Distorted and recurring, he creates an intricate wall of melodic static. The crowd are entranced. Most stand still and silent, listening with intent. All face the stage, where the lighting is so dim that it is difficult to make out any form at all. Every now and then one of the two thin beams on either side is broken by a silhouette, and that is all we see of the enigmatic Hecker.

This is my first time in the Oval Space, and I’m impressed. A canopy filled with fairy lights and rustic wooden panels leads onto a walkway overlooking the steel frames of gas towers. In the main room the sound is crisp and balanced. Tonight it is filled with an assorted crowd, though predominantly male and mostly alone. Everyone seems a serious muso.

As the chords persist teasingly, I crave a beat. It seems at times a little self-indulgent, a solo male twiddling a little knob. I’m left with a sense of anticipation, one which is never absolved. Around me, everyone is absorbed, though there is something solipsistic about their experience. Some stare at the floor, others are sat with legs crossed, but nearly all of them, I realise, have their eyes closed. Is this what you do when you listen to Hecker? I suddenly feel as out of place as if I had turned up to a Slayer gig in a baby pink tee. So I too close my eyes.

Amid the fuzz, the rhythmic undulations take hold and I am soon mesmerised. Buffeted by my emotional vulnerability, the harmonies create a tender euphoria. And here I am, at the end of an uphill Monday, in a warm and darkened room, with my eyes closed, listening to a meditative ambience. It’s absolutely ideal. In fact, I want to do this every Monday from now on.

Hecker is a sound artist. His craft, the meticulous sculpting of a beautiful soundscape from abrasive sounds. And this was the right time and right place for his exhibition.

• Photo by Howard Melnyczuk.