
Justin Bua
2007 spoilt me something rotten, with countless 5* albums from some firm favourites (LCD Soundsystem, Radiohead, Matthew Dear, Super Furry Animals), some late discoveries (Burial, Panda Bear, Of Montreal) and, most pleasingly, full-length upon full-length of amazing electronic music. There was an explosion of techno albums, with almost every big single seemingly followed sharply by a richly conceived long player. How can you argue with: Gabriel Ananda, Ricardo Villalobos, Pantha Du Prince, Michal Ho, Dapayk & Padberg, Cobblestone Jazz, False, Guy Gerber, Gui Boratto, Pole, Samim, Efdemin…as I say, spoilt rotten.
A few further (!) releases that really got me intrigued were three of the less expected offerings. Onur Özer’s Kaşmir was the darkest, creepiest of the bunch. His disregard for minimal’s often strict structuring was matched by his penchant for unusual instrumentation. No silly accordions here, though, rather restless trombones and dulled woodblocks. At its most warped, on the 10 minute “Terpsichorean Echoes”, Özer took me on a trip through the darkest recesses of both my mind and my insides. Frightening, really.
His keenness of ear was matched by Kalabrese, although in a far more jovial setting. Where Özer plunged down rabbit holes, Rumpelzirkus did a funky dance in a chicken hutch. There were horns, but they didn’t sound on the verge of a nervous breakdown. There were creaking chairs, there were congas…Kalabrese made me laugh out loud with his demand to “let the bubbles go into your brain, go crazy!”
Then at the end of 2007 along came Thomas Melchior with the divine No Disco Future, an exercise in mutant minimal pop, sending me whirling into eddies of sound and texture. This one hit a lot harder than the other two - particularly on the pummeling “Her Majesty” - but it also proved to have the lightest of touches in its divine closer, “Water Soul”.
Well, why am I telling you all of this. I’m telling you because 2008 has started with another album to spoil our ears and grey matter in turn: Bruno Pronsato’s Why Can’t We Be Like Us on Hello? Repeat records. The response that this record has garnered is entirely deserved. Back in 2007’s December Wire, Philip Sherburne (unsurprisingly ahead of the curve) called it “the year’s most living, breathing update of the 4/4 pulse.” In a review from one of my favourite writers at the moment, Peter Chambers at RA advised us to “take as much time letting these complicated mechanisms unwind in your earspace.” He compares the album favourably to Özer’s, suggesting that Pronsato’s atmospherics are less a product of doodling. Well, I don’t know. To me they explore different moods - Pronsato’s tones are more reminiscent of a carnival than a catacomb, and maybe they have different intentions for how organic they want to sound. I find this album to be more like Kalabrese’s in its realistic timbre, perhaps due to their shared history as metal drummers, while Pronsato’s exploration of repetition mirrors the cyclical development found in Melchior’s longer tracks. All four of these albums point to a very exciting ‘08.
Regardless of all this rambling, the fact is that Why Can’t We Be Like Us does make me think about the nature of this sort of music that I happen to like. I can get totally lost in the hopping drums of “What They Wish”, which never seem to fall where I expect them, and then after the 7 minute mark these contemplative piano chords reach right inside me and squeeze. I commented on Chambers’ article that I thought it was heartbreaking - I’ll repeat it here. Techno doesn’t normally provoke that sort of emotion from me, so it seems that there are still rich furrows to plough with the right firm pair of hands in control.
After all that, I’m not actually going to post a track from the album. I guess I feel it’d be slighting it slightly. I dunno. Anyway, I’m going to post a track from another album on its way to us from one of my absolute favourites, Kelley Polar. His Love Songs Of The Hanging Gardens has turned into one of those albums that I don’t think I could go too long without. In my books it’s been criminally overlooked so I hope to change this by posting a track from the new one. I Need You To Hold On While The Sky Is Falling is a little more conceptual, I suppose you could say, than the debut. It has some stone-cold classic pop songs (the Blue Monday-aping “Entropy Reins (In The Celestial City)”, for example) and some more intriguing vignettes. In fact, much of the last part of the album seems to form a suite of sorts, plunging down dischordant chromatic scales in various settings, before the closing “In Paradisum” melds all that’s gone before into an extravagant finish. 2008 really has got off to a flying start (and don’t even get me gushing about BSP’s new one).
Polar’s “Chrysanthemum” was released as an EP last year, which is sitting prettily on my shelf over there. It fought LCD’s “Someone Great” for my song of the year, with its sweaty breathing, apocalyptic lyrics, swooning strings and…well. Have a listen, and go and by both albums, old and new (when it goes up for sale), from the Environ webpage - they deserve every penny.
Kelley Polar - “Chrysanthemum” [Environ]
Check out the equally captivating video here. As perfectly formed as the song.