Overlapping singing voices presented in a very fragmented manner on Interplay (KOHLHAAS KHS028), a project credited to Sandrine Nicolette and Massimo Carozzi. Five singers are credited, but they recorded their parts separately in different times and locations, working to cues from the composers. No words, just tones and sounds. The LP combines these disparate events into a single piece, or rather seven short pieces. The bold cover with its typography and struck-through letters makes us think we’re getting something with a shade more conceptual rigour, harking back perhaps to concrete poetry or sound art the 1960s, but Interplay is very tame – too much process, not enough content. Far from providing any exciting verbal clashes, or showing us a model for our shared humanity, it simply emphasises how isolated we all are. (15/05/24)
{scope} is a trio of Italians – Laura Agnusdei, Matteo Pennsei and Luca Sguera – who had a jolly time at an artists residency in Scopoli in Umbria some years ago, resulting in the album A Week From Monday. Now joined by producer Francesco Piro, they’ve made Nightcap (KOHLHAAS KHS030) to showcase their unique blend – odd sounding synth and clunky prepared piano combined with insouciant saxophone lines. What emerges is neither jazz nor electronica, but it sounds like they had fun, if the unpredictable and illogical stop-start effusions are any indicator. The generally upbeat mood can grow wearisome, but it’s preferable to those moments where they turn maudlin and introspective. The maddeningly synthetic sound is almost unreal; maybe all music will be like this in the future when the robots take over. (15/05/24)
Belgian composer and violinist Catherine Graindorge draws inspiration from Greek mythology, among other sources, to create Songs For The Dead (GLITTERBEAT / TAK:TIL GBCD153) – an album of lugubrious downer instrumentals, recits, and songs. Various players and vocalists turn up to this picnic in the bone orchard, including Simon Huw Jones narrating with his sonorous tones. The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice is a powerful one, but Graindorge seems to completely miss the point of the story, and proves unable to extract any emotional truth from it. She has a theatrical / acting background, and it shows in the melodramatic flavour to these under-nourished pieces, which are heavy on the atmospheric lighting effects, but short on compositional ideas. The record resembles an ersatz late-period Scott Walker album. (15/05/24)
American Derek Piotr is a new name to me – he may have started out some nine years ago operating in a vaguely glitch / electronica area, but since 2019 has researched and studied the folk music of his homeland, in particular Appalachian folk, and is now regarded as a composer and archivist. His Divine Supplication (DPSR 005) is all over the arena, and in a good way; surprising sounds and combinations, unexpected phrases (both lyrical and musical) packed into short, compressed packages, tricky rhythms wrong-footing the ear with both hands. Collaborators have swarmed to him, including A-list players such as Fennesz and Maja S.K. Ratkje, and the whole album is a dizzying array of beats, pulsations, squiggles, and layered, treated vocals, many of them refusing to stay on point or in the right key, which is great. No genre or time period is off the table – a motet and a hymn from the 13th century lurk among the very modern raps and programming. Tho’ lyrics are hard to make out, you can still tell it’s a very personal set for this fellow, but if I hadn’t read the press notes I’d never have guessed it came from a background of recent personal tragedies. I was expecting more introspection and self-examination, but as it turns out, there’s just the right amount. Wayward beauty is buried within these grooves, but it also lies on the surface too. A gilded trellis conceals a platinum heart. (15/05/24)