Liminal Minimals - September 2012

Liminal Minimals – September 2012

1 Comment 01 October 2012

Our monthly round-up of releases we couldn’t review in full but didn’t want to let slip away unnoticed…

The Gaslamp Killer – Breakthrough (Ninja Tune/Brainfeeder)

I got thousands of records here, but I dunno man, I wanna do something innovative, like instead of sample ‘em, just like, you know, copy them, their, their vibe, man. Like doing covers, but covers of just little bits of ‘em, like loops and shit, but get this, they’re not loops, they’re real. Just the dopest, freakiest, most spaced out bits. I mean I can lay down some seriously kickass drums, but I don’t wanna get deep into none of that creative shit though. Yo, pass that shit. What? Oh shit, yeah he’s my buddy, and him, and Dimlite and Daedelus? Oh man, yeah, like the more dudes we get up in here, the easier it’s gonna be. I just don’t have time, ya know, I gotta bunch of DJ gigs and I need to like, go outside and look up at the stars and shit. What were we saying? Oh yeah…Can you play some of that Turkish psych guitar stuff, that mystical shit man, yeah. Like some next future-past shit. Sick, bro. We’ll build some atmosphere, but we don’t have to, like…Yo, what? (AB)

Robert Hampson – Signaux / Suspended Cadence (Editions Mego)

Not content with having released one of the year’s most challenging and experimental albums in the form of Répercussions, also on Mego, legendary former Loop guitarist Robert Hampson returns with two new complementary albums of electronic sound manipulation. With its French title, Signaux would appear to pursue the acousmatic experimentation of Répercussions, but is actually a much sparser work, dominated by loping glitch spikes, cavernous bass and arch, acidic textures. Though it’s dense and forbidding, what’s most remarkable about Signaux is that, for all its digital-sounding compression, it was recorded entirely without computers. In comparison, while not exactly elaborate, Suspended Cadence is a more “constructed” work revolving around slowly-evolving drones on guitar and analogue electronics that evoke Eliane Radigue and Pauline Oliveros. Both tracks, different variations on the same theme, are improvised and built up at an almost slovenly pace, but the way Hampson maintains his focus over the slow-moving progressions, producing a work that is both exploratory and cohesive, is remarkable. (JB)

Mark Fell – Sentielle Objectif Actualité (Editions Mego)

This album may have come with a ponderously technical blurb waxing lyrical about the length of the loops involved, but don’t let that fool you: Sentielle Objectif Actualité is one of the most exhilarating albums released this year. The first track kicks off with buzzing synths lifted straight from the opening segment of Kraftwerk’s ‘The Robots’, before Fell launches into a rambunctious storm of shuffling dancefloor beats overlaid with washes of glacial synth. The tracks that make up the album seem to deconstruct techno tropes whilst reinforcing the genre’s intrinsic dance appeal. Some feature overcharged beats and gristly synth noise in the vein of the headiest minimal techno, whilst on “SOA-2”, Fell even undercuts his busy polyrhythmic beats with funky piano chords that wouldn’t be out-of-place on a deep house record or -whisper it- an r’n’b track. Across Sentielle Objectif Actualité, Fell juggles abstraction and seduction like a harlequin, imbuing the entire album with a frenetic, sexy groove that never feels cheap or lazy, but rather the height of what can be achieved when you approach techno in a cerebral manner but remember to hold onto your sense of fun. (JB)

Kane Ikin – Sublunar (12K)

Sublunar is the first full-length release by Kane Ikin after a series of collaborations and remixes. These previous works haven’t given any indication as to how strong a work this debut record would be. It’s a dense and greasy affair, full of littered sounds and crackling old 78s (apparently found in Ikin’s fathers shed), that sound, at times, surprisingly light and delicate rather than purely dark and menacing. Layer upon layer of sounds, as disparate as analog synths, tape machines and antique drum machines, are slowly pieced together to form tight yet abstract music. As Ikin was making the record, anything within arm’s reach that could be hit, plucked or bowed was utilised and recorded which gives the record an almost playful nature that’s, more often than not, hidden from the listener, but does show its head in its lighter moments. It’s one of those records that bears repeated listening as the dense sound reveals hidden moments the more you listen. For that reason alone it’s become one of my most played records; it also helps that it’s also one of the most interesting and artistic records I’ve heard so far this year. (RH)

Land Observations – Roman Roads IV-XI (Mute)

I’ve been doing more walking of late. A change in job has meant I’ve had to be bit more mobile, and my morning soundtrack to these strolls has been this debut release by James Brooks under his new moniker Land Observations. My walks have taken me along the modern equivalent of Roman Roads, the guided busway which runs out the front of my house in Cambridge. These extended scars of concrete have left their mark on some of the some beautiful pieces of countryside; but they do act as a conduit for viewing what is left. And it’s this feeling of encouragement that I get from listening to Roman Roads IV-XI: a sense of joy and wonder at exploring and investigating these paths. There’s a motorik rhythm to the pieces, a simple pace that motivates movement. Each of the songs are simply composed, one, two or three layered guitars are brought together, ticking over simple riffs and weaving their gentle music in a way that conjures up images of lost highways and their epic history. Even the names given to the pieces help the mind’s eye imagine these glorious historical places: ‘Appian Way’, ‘From Nero’s Palace’, ‘Aurelian Way’. But it’s not just a historical album – sonically it’s very much of our time and ultimately acts as a celebration of these places that should be enjoyed today. (RH)

Mount Eerie – Ocean Roar (P.W. Elverum & Sun)

Ocean Roar is a more focused and down-to-earth follow-up to the previous, and rather spectral, release Clear Moon. It begins with the raucous 9 minute thud of ‘Pale Lights’. Waves after waves of guitars wash over you in a continuous roar until they fade out, leaving Phil Elverum’s gentle vocals to reminisce. This is the pattern that continues through the album – scuzzy guitars and drones build around gentle beginnings, whether its a simple piano refrain or Phil’s hollow vocals. This seesaw of noise makes the album feel alive and vibrant, never focusing on one thing for very long and continually evolving. The name of the record is apt and even the song titles feel like direct and literal translations of the music within: ‘Waves’ pummels you with cascading drums and guitars, the riffs spewing forth a barrage of noise like flotsam and jetsam. But for all the boom and bombast it’s the tender notes of ‘I Walked Home Beholding’ that stay with you the longest. A song that reflects the wonder of the environment all around you, one that you take for granted, but reveals its majesty when noticed. And, ultimately, this reflects Elverum’s current musical journey as well. (RH)

Sun Araw – The Inner Treaty (Sun Ark Records/Drag City)

It would be unfair to say that Cameron Stallones’s FRKWYS series collaboration with reggae vocal legends The Congos was something of a disappointment; only the most optimistic listener would have expected it to truly add up to the sum of its parts. Still, working with heroes and getting some Jamaican sun seems to have done him some good. Left to stretch out again in more familiar surroundings, he’s returned invigorated and with a sound much brighter than the dense haze of previous album Ancient Romans. The Inner Treaty is still stoned and psychy, but the artful sloppiness is less grungy lo-fi and more wide-eyed/bleached out. This is a kind of doubly removed dub, anaemic and unsteady – “Grips” is as much early Animal Collective as it is Lee Perry – and played on all the wrong instruments, or perhaps the right instruments in the wrong ways. When they’re not popping harmonics, guitars bend and twang almost Hawaiian-like, cheap keyboards lurch while preset drums clatter and basslines wander in and out. The success of the mess is in the way the underlying rhythms are retained though: no matter how fragile things become, everything just about holds together. A wonderfully delicate balancing act that rewards repeated listens. (AB)