"I remember reading somewhere a quote by Jim O'Rourke where he describes Loren Connors as a "painter who uses a guitar" and Werner Herzog as "poet who uses a camera". In my mind I always see Vasco Trilla as a natural born filmmaker that, somehow, ended up playing percussion. Vasco shares with my favorite film directors an absolute trust towards his raw materials and the most delicate sensibility to the subtleties of its own specific characteristics. Like a director immersed in a particular landscape or focusing his whole attention towards the unique bodies and corporal expression of his actors, Vasco shows an absolute surrender to his different sound objects. His "ears gaze" obsessively focused on the details of his tools, the possible combinations, the best scenario for each bell ring, for each subtle bow stroke.

I had the privilege of working with him in a zillion different situations, and his ability to juxtapose and combine the different tone colors never ceases to amaze me. In a completely "Buñuel style", his sounds interact and develop in a totally unexpected (but mesmerizing) inner logic. How do they come up with such magic combinations?

I like to think that the answer to that question is faith.

Total faith and devotion in the possibilities of his sound objects.

Vasco strikes his resonant bells and sharp cymbals with the same blind faith as Buñuel shoots the snails coming up the girl's thighs. With a total confidence that, surrendering to their nature, the magic will just be revealed.

The Bell Slept Long in its Tower is built around 10 scenes, each one focused on delicate percussion combinations. Like in late era Tarr, the record is constructed from long, almost static shots, very sparse in its development and narrative. The small cast of objects wander through the desolate space created by Trilla's resonant drones, making each new apparition a shaking event. The undulating tones of the zither, the almost-electronic flat bell tones, the shrieking overtones of the timpani membrane, the unexpected mechanical noises ... each body shaping a mysterious ritual dance over the solemn landscape.

This is music from an artist in total control of his tools and language, with no need or urge to show or prove anything. I feel that Vasco is purging his style in this record, destroying the spurious mannerisms and cliches from his discourse. Vasco Trilla at his peak."-Notes by Alex Reviriego