Sunday, 8 March 2009

Track reviews: "fake movement of flying machines" and "elephant dance" by CC-SB

Emerging east London duo CC-SB describe their sound as "2 people making noise", the apparent self-effacing apathy of this statement masking the fact that it's actually pretty accurate. Their oft-indefinable music references a variety of styles derided as 'noise' - from the clinical cacophony of 1940s musique concrète to the raw, decrepit angst of late 70s industrial and dance-spasms of mid 90s drill 'n' bass - while retaining its own distinctively murky persona.

"fake movement of flying machines" owes much to the urban psychosis and general overwhelming sense of rot at the dark heart of Throbbing Gristle. Built out of a synth drone, wailing feedback, languid fuzz-bass blues and a largely indecipherable monologue about 'broken pieces of skin', it sounds more like a scrapheap than a song, its drumming resembling something in-between a death march and the slow, relentless pounding of nails being listlessly hammered into a coffin.

If "fake movement of flying machines" uses repetition to infer an endless night, then 'elephant dance' uses much the same techniques to awaken manic delight. It's the closest thing to a pop song (or any kind of song) to be found on their MySpace. However, be warned: what CC-SB consider fun many might consider deranged. Spitting out distorted 8-bit melodies and fevered IDM drums like a sugar-rushing tourette's sufferer, it's like tribal folk music for the lunatic within us all... I mean that in a good way.



Track review: "Home remedy" by arc vel

Right from the start of 'Home remedy' Birmingham-based arc vel brings the percussive ruckus in the form of clangs and bangs evoking the polyrhythmic clamouring of gamelan and of the post-west African drums of bebop. It's that perfect kind of repetition; hypnotic and loping and free to go anywhere but lost in a moment. Moments later the track suddenly decides to break free, gliding on breezy synth strings and a chiming bell riff more befitting the artist's description of his music as "Ryuichi Sakamoto & múm gleefully hurling Kim Hiorthøy’s equipment down the stairs".

Urgent, ever-shifting even when standing still and coloured by serenely emotive pastoral hues, arc vel manages to weave more ideas and emotional allusions into this track's adeptly-structured three minutes and twenty-one seconds than many musicians manage in an album.



Sunday, 1 March 2009

One to watch: Pinkville

With titles like "Submerge" and "An Alternate World Away", it comes as no surprise that Montréal's Pinkville makes the kind of immersive, delicately-detailed, soundscapes that no doubt routinely prompt listeners to say, 'You should totally think about doing soundtracks'. He's also one of the rare musicians who acts on such advice, creating videos to accompany his tracks out of slowly cross-fading still images.

The clouded skies, barren trees and minimalist snow shots of the "Psychic Winter" video reinforce the music's thawing SAD narrative and the distinctly Canadian '-scape' of its sound. It also informs a video-less track like "Alif" - which, with its inter-weaving of woozy low-end drones, radio static and faint urban field recordings, sounds like Brian Eno and William Basinski on the road - by giving it a specific geographical location from which your imagination can take flight.