Scuba - Triangulation

Behind Scuba and Hot Flush Recordings is a man on a mission: Paul Rose. By chumming up with Mount Kimbie, Distance, Vex’d and other immanent electronic artists, his label is beginning to represent an off shoot of Dub Step, growing that little bit closer to the sun on every new release.

Drawing from his bedrock Dub Step origins, Rose unites warbling synths with a lush atmosphere as dense and as thick as acres of untouched rainforest. Triangulation is an extension of LTJ Bukem’s slowed down drum n’ bass spiked with the gut wrenching weirdness of iTAL tEK or Modeselektor; a kind of produced lounge Dub Step comparable to certain artists signed to Planet Mu and Ninja Tune.

With an impeccable sense of space and immersive calm, it retains the mix structure of Rose’s radio appearances: a slow, blended transition from one landscape to another simulating the out of body feeling of being in an isolation tank. The control is expertly handled, the use of sampled vocals simple but unusual. Thrown about by dub echo, they ricochet off tall buildings, past vast highways and dimly lit rain soaked streets. Eventually, once these images work into the background, the 90’s house influence I was so dubious about finding comes to light.

‘Before’ puts the fore mentioned vocal sampling to stunning effect and is easily the most memorable track on the record. Additionally, it’s worth checking out ‘Three Sided Shape’ and ‘So You Think You’re Special’, though I think you’ll want to listen and drop out to Triangulation in its entirety.

It all ends on ‘Lights Out’, an exhaled release of beautiful spirited vocals floating among the clouds would grace any early morning bong session. Scuba’s style might seem familiar to fans of IDM and modern techno but Triangulation’s tuneful facets advance his career and set him aside from the rest. The only criticism I can muster is about the creepy copyright tactics: a demonic overdubbed voice (probably Rose himself) reminds you on each track that this particular copy is a ‘promo copy’, and don’t you forget it. It’s a little unnecessary if not insulting. I mean, what else are we going to spend our dole on?

(© Copyright 2010 Brendan Morgan)

The Thing - Bag It!

For about a decade, Norway has been producing some seriously innovative instrumental Jazz and if this is news to you, then sweet Jesus where have you been? A Cave?

A few bands, like Jagga Jazzist, have relied on the wizards at Ninja Tune to assist them in their Scandinavian blend of Jazz electronics. The label has also culled The Cinematic Orchestra and Bonobo from Britain. All joyfully kick sand at the rules of traditional Jazz, throwing everything and anything into the mix.

I expected The Thing to follow suit seeing as they're from Norway. I was wrong. Approaching downright preposterous, they are on a different drug altogether and live up to what their name suggests - an indescribable creature if there ever was one.

Signed to Crazy Wisdom and produced by Steve Albini, their album, Bag It!, is an assertive fusion of Jazzpunk. It combines a hardcore, alternative ethic (the blurry photos on the sleeve recall the iconic grunge shots of Mudhoney) with a rhythmless, harmonic freedom. While covering other artists - Duke Ellington and 54 Nude Honeys for example - they also drop in two tracks of their own.

All of the searing instrumental work is attributed to the band themselves. Albini's industrial/distortion expertise gives a boost where it's needed but mainly serves as a frame for their art. The drummer, Paal Nilssen-Love, breaches the abstract with psychotic vigour. Mats Gustafsson, the saxophonist, imitates a punk singer by expelling a range of flesh ripping tones, expressions, whines and squeals.

The Thing are true free Jazz, so free that they've ran from structure and order, into the jungle and gone guerrilla. For some, they will be alienating and unbearable; for others, nihilistic improvisation at its most playful. Bag It! will divide opinion and no amount of blabber from the press will describe them accurately to you. Ingenious or daft, The Thing demand your own reaction.

(© Copyright 2009 Brendan Morgan)

Yppah - "They Know What Ghost Know"

Successfully separating himself from other Ninja Tune artists (Amon Tobin, Bonobo, Mr Scruff), Joe Corrales (aka Yppah) grinds his own blend of folktronica from an eclectic mix of influences. From light-headed hip-hop and 60's psychedelia, to ear ringing shoegaze; the result is a seasonal release just short of perfection. The tracks are a little thrown together but the warm and hazy tone ultimately melts it into unity. Alien birds call to each other in the distance. Scratchy, insect-like distortion buzzes triumphantly. Echoing guitar melodies stroll through long grass. All of which would spin out of control if not for some precision broken beats to keep it in earth's orbit.

There are some beautiful moments. Halfway through the title track, someone opens a window to let in a refreshing breeze of rock organ, reminiscent of The Doors or The Misunderstood. It even goes a bit Aphex Twin in the middle of The Tingling. Besides variation, this feeling of reflection and deja vu is Corrales initial attraction. He pits a harmonic balance between what we know and recognise, against an education of compelling sonic oddity. The promotional review calls it "music which is epic and intimate all at once". I call it stealth experimentation with enough variation to occupy the shortest of attention spans. They Know What Ghost Know is an organic album that grows with each listen and is an essential for the summer.

(© Copyright 2009 Brendan Morgan)

Electronica and the Destruction of Image

The sound of the future has been with us for longer than you might realise. Since the experimentalism of German Engineers, such as Stockhausen of the 1950's, and the French composers around the same era recording surrounding everyday sounds, electronic artists have been posing new frontiers and seemingly endless possibilities for us. Earlier still, at the end of the 19th century, Eric Satie wrote a series of background pieces called furniture music designed to let the listener fall into mood and sink into the subconscious. Although Satie never got to use the incoming advancements of music technology, it changed the way music would be used and considered over the next century. Our relationship with the computer has grown since then. It's a frightening prospect for many people. Some listeners find it tough to enjoy. The harsh and manufactured sounds can leave them feeling cold and empty, as though no human empathy exists at all in the music. Another conflict for them is absence of the human voice. It might appear to them, particularly from such alien sounds as Autechre or the hypnotic ambiance of Brian Eno, that technology dominates. I often imagine a distant future where machines, so intelligent in design and thought, compose their own unique music in their logical and inhuman view of the world. In fact, it's quite possible the computer is the instrument of our age. Where once the guitar provided an individual, everyman approach, the computer currently supplies an upgraded version of exactly this. Inspired by the mathematical cut n' paste style electronics pose, some go so far as to turn it on its head, to use the guitar as you would a generated synth. Math Rock is a direct descendant of this and the eltro/rock group Battles employ the technique brilliantly. The classic riff that was so key to traditional Rock is broken down and particalised. They sound, at least to my ears, like the army marches of a billion extra-terrestrials. The computer gives artists of broad calibers a lot of freedom. Its variety and customisation pinpoint a voice for many artists who yearn to express the so-far-unexpressed and, like the guitar, it is also universally easy to pick up and make your own.

But what I really want to look at is the way that electronic music throws out image as part of its whole presentation. Modern Indie, as one example, relies heavily on it's visual appeal: The Band Picture, The Supporting Fashion Scene and NME coverage, The Guitar Solo. Indie's not the worst offender in this department. A lot of Hip Hop would be pretty bland without it's larger-than-life look. Electronic music, on the other hand, is faceless. Any sympathy or preconceived opinion is gathered through the music, and the music alone. It must be the only genre that lets the music speak for itself in uncorrupted tone. The genre has a dedicated following but this lack of visual reference is a tricky element for the average listener to comprehend. Perhaps it's a subconscious human need to see what you hear, to be able to make eye contact or to be able to try and understand the personality behind the communication. The power of impression, of suggestion and of social politics is difficult to break away from.

Aphex Twin, originating from Cornwall, is an acid crazed sonic genius (if I can call Richard E. James that) and one of the titans of the Warp Records Label based in London. He has been responsible for creating some of the most twisted and unnerving electronic music of the last decade or so. Stacks of artists spanning many different genres of music cite him as an influence. His music is almost indescribable and is offset by strange videos and dark sights. The recognisable Aphex Twin symbol that accompanies his releases (see above picture) is a singular but ambiguous metaphor. His insane, demented smile that reoccurs over and over, on his album covers and music videos throws off the audience and mocks and destroys any accessible visual attachment or understanding. We can know nothing about him from these images. It serves only to displace himself from his music and subvert our love of images, the resulting obsession of MTV culture.

Many other Electronic artists also hide behind their work, either by choice or because they are by nature reclusive people. This separation of image from sound and severing of visual restriction forces us to focus in on their music, perhaps the only thing that matters. We are entreated to give up caring about the source and the intentions of the creator. This is their gift to us. We, the audience, are free to explore our own psyche, attach our own memories, to let flow the beautiful landscapes of our mind while listening to their music as a soundtrack. The images are of our own conjuring. It lays out a blank canvas inviting us to think for ourselves, to make the music our own.