Allen Ravenstine
Electron Music
Shore Leave
Nautilus
Rue de Poisson Noir
U.S.A. WAVESHAPER MEDIA WSM05 / WSM06 / WSM07 / WSM08 C.D.s (2021)
During his tenure with the Pere Ubu (1975-89), synthesist Allen Ravenstine‘s twilight zone emissions were pretty damn unique, with possibly only the exotically named Ping Romany offering up any similar patch-corded pitch’n’yaw during his criminally brief spell with Canada’s finest export: Simply Saucer. Post Ubu, with a commercial pilot’s licence and a novel under his belt, Allen’s interest in music was rekindled when he was invited to appear in the I Dream of Wires electronics documentary in 2012. Since then, we’ve been witness to the delights of collaborative works with Robert Wheeler and Albert Dennis, as well as The Pharaoh’s Bee and Waiting for the Bomb (CDs on RER Megacorp). So eclectic in nature, I’m sure that the latter two disc’s constituent parts morph/shift on their axis the moment they’re filed away.
The highly anticipated chaser, keeping that circuitry bathed in a warm glow, is a four-strong series of CD EPs on the Waveshaper Media label working under the collective title of The Tyranny of Fiction. On this occasion, changes have been made. Instead of working solo or partnering up, Allen has deployed a thirteen-strong cast to interpret his multi-disciplined compositional chops with only fellow synthesist and producer William Blakeney being an ever present figure. Volume One’s Electron Music has its tracks bathed in dolorous cello scrape, gurgling electronics and sombre, suspenseful incidentals of a sci-fi horror stripe. If ambience has to be namedropped in the promo sheet, it’s an ambience with tiny rows of sharp teeth ready to snap shut in a trice. Volume Two’s Shore Leave finds Victor Avilon‘s stately grand pianistics on the opening title track, leading us into a brace of numbers which appear to dismantle (in a respectful way), the musical scores of that king of exotica and Residents’ idol, Martin Denny. The closer ‘Fleche D’Or’ is also something of a delight – recreating the golden age of steam right there in the luxury of your living room. Synthesized or not, it’s a very emotive sound for those of a certain vintage, it has to be said.
Nautilus (No. 3), and Rue, the final episode, offer more of a ragbag of stylistic idiosyncrasies within their twenty-one track total. As a fer instance, on the former disc ‘Fog’s palm court tango has echoes of …Yankee Reaper era Van Dyke Parks putting his very best foot forward, which elegantly sashays into ‘A Day at the Beach’, a more conflicted piece which scoots from faux Mantovani stringing to a reggaefied shuffle in double-quick time. And finally, onto Rue… where more extreme electronics come to the fore. As on the bizarre ‘Doff Downie Woot’, a rare A.R. vocal outing (?), which outdadas Kurt Schwitters and ‘Open Season’, where the metallic screams and piercing top end frequencies can’t help but give succour to those amongst us who would’ve loved to have had The Modern Dance as a double set back in the day.
Electron… through to …Poisson can also be found as a pair of albums in which each CD EP occupies one side of vinyl. Enlarged versions of Stephen Seto’s splendid sleeve designs and layout can only be a bonus – gold stars all round!