I told you I was going to go the route of the filthy casual in future Autechre coverage (even though I ended up listening to Confield too); and to be honest, I went on a huge binge after experiencing LP5. This longer-than-some-studio-albums EP is certainly interesting, and it falls straight into a brief period of especially ambient and downtempo work by this band. Given that Garbage is supposedly culled from the detritus of Autechre’s 2nd studio album (1994’s Amber), you can imagine how this content might share some mood and mind with its full length counterpart, but where Amber was occasionally too subdued for its own good, the balance here is better.
Garbage is vintage accessible Autechre at their finest, even managing by virtue of its reduced length to avoid the filler problem that plagues most of the band’s full lengths. Everything here is warm, analog flavored, with plenty of the reverb and delay effects that seem to be emphasized on the band’s early material. Like your average Autechre album (or for that matter, a nice swathe of electronic music), the tracks here rely very heavily on their choice of sounds to distinguish themselves; compare this to musicians who don’t change up their instrumentation on every track. Furthermore, the average track here yet again emphasizes slowly evolving soundscapes over especially rigorous sound structure. In general, you should not expect huge sound/structural differences from Autechre’s trademark sound.
If you ask me, Garbage also features something of an inter-track narrative that isn’t present on most of the band’s material. I don’t know if it was intentional or not, but over time the material on here progresses from being rhythm and progression oriented to complete ambience and repetition by the time the last chords of “Vletr” fade away. I can’t really think of any other albums by the band that have that level of long-term cohesion, although some of the EPs come close (1995’s Anvil Vapre in particular). This makes for a very different experience than the rest of their discography when you listen to it in full. This is, more than anything else from Autechre, something you should sit down and listen to in one go, which at the very least is more convenient than otherwise due its compactness.
To be fair, Garbage‘s strengths do run kind of exactly counter to my expected tastes, but given how often I’ve been praising music for doing things I wouldn’t expect myself to stereotypically like, I might have to say that my interests are broader than they first seem.
Highlights: Everything. Maybe “PIOB” in particular.
No, I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of Mike Oldfield’s discography. I am assured by polite company that it is enormous. Hergest Ridge, while not as commercially successful or as well known as the guy’s debut (Tubular Bells), still tells an interesting commercial story – it reached #1 on the British OCC album charts before being knocked off a mere three weeks later by … you guessed it, Tubular Bells. Progressive rock used to be big money; now, the music industry is shriveled and dying even as the quantity of available music increases at an ever growing rate. But let’s not dwell on such things for the moment.
Hergest Ridge is a compilation of two lengthy instrumental pieces that presumably are inspired by the scenery of the Anglo-Welsh borderlands where it was conceived and recorded. You can imagine how such sparsely settled countryside (… by European standards; compare to the USA if you need a laugh) would make for generally soft and approachable music, although there are a few sections that break this rule, including the famous “thunderstorm” in the second part that was my formal introduction to this album. One of Mike Oldfield’s famous gimmicks is that he imitates some structural aspects of orchestral music by recording lots of instrumental parts and overdubbing them to make dense walls of sound; he also uses a lot of studio wizardry to make instruments sound like other instruments. The sheer amount of effort here means that any attempts to transfer Hergest Ridge to other arrangements would dramatically alter its sound, even if maybe not so much its structure.
Since I haven’t listened to the rest of Oldfield’s discography, I can’t say to what extent the upcoming songwriting tropes hold elsewhere, but one thing I’ve found particularly notable is that this album seems to strike a balance between the extended ‘narrative’ songwriting a lot of other progressive rock albums engage in and a more ambient approach. The number of discrete song sections on display (which are a good sign of the former) is easier to pick up on, at least initially. The order that Oldfield organizes each part of his songs, as well as the transitions between them, though, emphasize mood and texture over dynamics. If you’re not paying attention, Hergest Ridge seems to repeat itself a great deal, but there’s enough subtle microvariation here to keep that from literally being the case. I should also note that the second part, while not dramatically different and even sharing many of the same musical themes and motifs, is more active and formally structured than the second.
Most likely, Oldfield’s greatest strength on this album is the aforementioned ‘ambient’/’progressive’ fusion. It’s not entirely unheard of, and a lot of bands on one side of the fence stuck their toes through to the other just to feel out what it was like, but it’s still pulled off well here. It doesn’t always align with my tastes, but it does make for an interesting spin on the era’s formulas.
Highlights… aren’t exactly helpful on an album with only two tracks, but do pay close attention to the aforementioned “thunderstorm” after 8:30 in Part II.
Now this appraisal might become entirely irrelevant and useless if I ever get around to Confield, but at least compared to previous Autechre material, LP5 is “Expert Mode Unlocked” given tangible audible form. At least from an aural perspective it comes off even more abstract and artificial than before, although repeated listening has clued me in to just how much of the band’s previous techniques and arsenal remain. Now, I realize this is a snooty and even elitist way of describing how I’ve engaged with LP5, but bear with me – after all, I might end up reviewing one of Autechre’s earliest albums at some point, and I need an excuse to (most likely inaccurately) work in the phrase “filthy casual”.
For better or worse, there’s a great deal of musical substance on here that I’ve never even considered trying to incorporate into my own work. I guess that sort of makes this album an antithesis of self, just like the last album I wrote about. For one, the emphasis on ‘ambient’, slowly evolving soundscapes that I picked up on from Tri Repetae is still around; I’d go as far as claiming these are even more necessary since consonant phrases are on the decline here. Some of these tracks arguably have pop style hooks; I don’t think it’s the main intent, especially since the sort of modal, more conventionally structured songwriting I’ve heard on previous Autechre albums is hard to find here. Instead, Autechre seemingly relies more heavily on percussive rhythms this time around, and furthermore does some very strange things with tempo. I kind of want to make a song using the constant BPM change gimmick of “Fold4, Wrap5”, although incorporating such a thing into the sort of music I actually like to write could be … difficult.
If there’s one thing that Autechre definitely does well on LP5, it’s that they nail the ambiences. As I’ve said before, that’s definitely not easy to do, but at it’s best, LP5 has spawned some incredibly vivid mental images in my head. The architecture metaphors people like to throw in when talking about this band are at least apt, although sometimes the slow evolution and attention to transitions does something especially amazing, like briefly turning “Drane2” (arguably the hit single of this album) into the world’s most hellish call center about 2/3rds of its length in. It helps that that track in particular has one of the densest soundscapes; most of the tracks here are a bit sparser and take more time to sink in, but you can still get some sort of storytelling potential out of them.
To be honest, it didn’t take me as long to value LP5 as highly as I do now; it’s not perfect, and nor is my understanding of it, but the depths that remain are certainly worth plumbing.
Highlights: “777”, “Under Boac”, “Drane2”
Invisible Blog is staggeringly lax about the International Day of Slayer sometimes. Thusly do I present to you my thoughts on the opposite of Slayer.
My buddies would say I am under-Aphexed if they knew this was the only work by Richard D. James I’ve ever sat down and listened to. Admittedly I’ve heard strains of “Windowlicker” and some of his other more commercially successful singles drifting out of public places, but if that was what passed for street cred, I would be wearing much baggier pants. I don’t even have the deep knowledge of this album’s genre that helps me review metal albums. This was a problem when I was writing about Tri Repetae by Autechre, too, but it doesn’t seem to have stopped me from at least trying.
As the title might lead you to believe, this is less a coherent album than a compilation, and it tends towards the softer and gentler side of RDJ’s output. Selected Ambient Works also (and perhaps shockingly) tends towards repetition and emphasis on texture over song structure. I don’t know how many of these were actually written towards the “85” end, but I’m inclined to think that by virtue of such hypothetical tracks being included that it’s not too important. The sound on display here is relatively aesthetically consistent, with even the more abrasive tracks (like “Green Calx”, “Schottkey 7th Path”, etc.) still fitting in with their companions. Given the staggering variety of sounds electronic musicians sometimes throw into their recordings, this is probably an achievement of some sort.
Based on this, I’d suggest listening to this album as a whole whenever the time presents itself, even though the songs don’t fade into each other like they would on, for arbitrary example, a Magma album. There are some problems with this, the greatest of which is a significant quantity of relatively uninteresting ‘filler’ tracks, mostly towards the second half. It’s hard to determine what raises one track over another when the writing remains so consistent, though. Personally, I’d guess which specific instruments and sound patches I like plays a role in this, but if I have to go on in that vein, it pushes me way too far from the analytical mode I prefer for these writeups and reviews. That’s a serious problem!
While it’s probably due to the limits of my electronica knowledge, Selected Ambient Works is thusly notable for defying my attempts to analyze it beyond its surface. I find that based on my preferences, it could be cut down to about 2/3rds of its length without losing its choice tracks, and that portion makes for good listening. It’d still be longer than the EPs that surround it, but remember, you can’t always judge music by its length.
Highlights: “Tha”, “Heliosphan”, “Schottkey 7th Path”
Does this album reflect Autechre exploring programmed sounds and perhaps the occasional glitch? Probably. Writing about electronic music is a rather different experience than writing about metal, since the intents of the musicians often differ dramatically. Tri Repetae belongs to the ’90s British IDM/ambient techno boom, but it stands apart from even much of what I’ve listened to from it (mind you, I’ve only scratched the surface) by how much it embraces an artificial, cold, structured aesthetic. Very analog at times, or at least I think it is, and if you’ve been reading the words of a certain Australian fellow who doesn’t actually exist, you might end up believing that a person’s beliefs and biases are useful information.
Anyways, Tri Repetae relies quite heavily on repetition; repeat is even in its name if you can’t spell! Songs here have this tendency of starting with one simple loop, then gradually adding more up until some point, dwelling on them for a few minutes, and then gradually fading out in the opposite fashion. Between tracks, there are significant variances in pacing, sound density, and sonic texture, but I’d still say Autechre sticks to their guns throughout this album. There are not particularly many unique musical phrases explored per track, but I’m fairly sure that’s intentional.
Even with the repetitive, trancelike nature of their chosen songwriting method, Autechre has plenty of room to explore aesthetic permutations (How often have you read that before on this blog? For better or worse I have reduced the task of music reviews to a formula). Some tracks emphasize hookish melody, such as “Clipper” and “Eutow”, which allow relatively dense-sounding content to rise from their loop-stacking. Often, however, Tri Repetae tends towards sparser sounds, sometimes by virtue of favoring some frequencies, sometimes by focusing more on percussion, and occasionally just droning to the point of tedium. I’d like to say this album suffers from Kraftwerk syndrome, but unlike to the album I review in the link, I feel these songs are actually better when they’re more accessible. This could be due to Autechre not really dipping into blatant pop music tropes, but regardless, it’s a strong departure from my usual “experimentation = good” claims.
Repeated listens have lead me to believe that this album has reached some level of merge between its aesthetics and its songwriting techniques, which does bode well for it being a unified, coherent album. As mentioned before, it also succeeds in elaborating on its basic ideas without relying on aesthetic changes to remain memorable. Ironically, my favorite songs on here are the ones whose aesthetics appeal most to my listening sensibilities. On the other hand, I find much of this album too sparse for frequent listening, which is saying something given my occasional affinity for minimalist recordings. You could say I’m looking for a denser soundscape.
Highlights: “Dael”, “Clipper”, “Eutow”, “C/Pach”
I think we can officially say that Mezzanine is the soundtrack to television; the singles from this album (and a few tracks that weren’t so fortunate) have wormed their way into the media – including but not limited to the use of “Teardrop” as the theme song of House M.D. We’re dealing with massive commercial success here, although mostly in the United Kingdom. Anyways, Massive Attack is a band I learned about primarily by using Pandora, and their chosen “trip-hop” style was at first something that I could not relate to my understanding of electronica at the time. While I’ve grown more knowledgeable since then, I still have gaps to fill.
Massive Attack, at least on Mezzanine, focuses on texture and atmosphere above all else; one aspect that falters as a result is their use of dynamics. There’s a major emphasis on looped samples over which an ensemble of vocalists perform (which lead to legal issues with “Black Milk”), and the general level of intensity is best described as ‘ambient’ at many times. However, there are a few moments of increased intensity and loudness, such as the lead-in track, “Angel”. Ironically, “Angel” is the opposite of many of the tracks here, in that it relies almost entirely on dynamic change to retain listener interest; another prominent example of this is “Dissolved Girl”. Still, this is not an album of dramatic developments; when things change, they do so slowly and gradually.
Given the way these songs are written, my judgement of whether a track was good or not often came down to the quality of the vocals. Ironically, the main vocalists (Robert del Naja and Grantley Marshall) pale in comparison to their several guests because their chosen style is flat, bordering on monotone in a style where the backing is not particularly dynamic. Sometimes, they manage to overcome it with interesting soundscapes – like those on “Inertia Creeps”, but the guests simply outsing them. Horace Andy (on “Angel” and “Man Next Door”) seems to provide the most effective contrast, but Elizabeth Fraser (who performs on “Teardrop”, “Black Milk”, and “Group Four”) is the most technically accomplished vocalist on this album by far. Either way, while the lines they are assigned don’t particularly break any boundaries, they sound good and add much needed dimensionality to the music.
The last time I referenced this album (in a discussion of Perdition City by Ulver); I used it to describe a sort of ambient pop music that I was uncovering the boundaries of. This does not have the “experimental” edge of such a recording, unless you count the by-1998-established genre of trip-hop as experimental, but it is definitely a more coherent recording than what it may have inspired. This coherence definitely helps Mezzanine in the long run, as do the guest vocalists, but this only goes to show that the entire style benefits from development and variety. Based on the elements I mentioned, though, Massive Attack seems to understand this even when they don’t always hit all their nails.
Highlights: “Angel”, “Inertia Creeps”, “Man Next Door”, “Black Milk”