I have followed the work of Matthew Schoen for a few years now. I first saw Vehicles over a year ago, when Schoen was completing his studies at Conservatoire de musique du Québec à Montréal. The layers of humming that drive this piece epitomize, for me, the unexpected, mesmerizing quality of music without tones.
Yet, Vehicles is not absent of tonal harmony. It seems redundant, but I truly think a difference can be observed between harmony out of chaos (poetic or political), and chords. In the case of Vehicles, it is one that hovers just beyond your immediate perception. It reminds me of the experience Richard D. James compares his Selected Ambient Works II album to: that of standing in a power station.
On another tangent, Vehicles also reminds me of the time I walked into a room thinking my coworkers were playing a musique concrète piece. In fact, it was the soda fountain and coffee machine running their cycles. There is music hiding in unexpected places — Schoen's work exemplifies this. The whir, hum, pulse, and rush of mechanisms in Vehicles come together to produce an ultimate, collective sound. It is profound, yet charming — the cadence of an artificial choir ushering you past the screen into an intricate, brighter atmosphere.