Siberian Dancehall Incident
Low Light, Love & Grind
CANADA BEAVERHILL COUNTY RECORDS CDR (2024)
We think this is Rob McLaren from Kelowna BC, a wayward and maverick electronica fellow who sent us a zanoid package of fun in Nov 2023.
On today’s item – working solo under his Siberian Dancehall Incident alias, a name which for some reason always reminds me of the completely unrelated Russian Tsarlag – he seems to have toned down the playfulness slightly and opted for more considered tunes, beats, and synth exploits, sometimes hiding his intentions behind cryptic or indecipherable track titles. What he’s retained is his unflagging devotion to his forebears, and the music of Autechre and Aphex Twin remain the yin and yang on his inspirational chart, along with Boards Of Canada (a highly-regarded Scots electronica illbient IDM duo whose work I have not investigated as yet) and – on one uncharacteristic track – Metallica, whose ‘Disposable Heroes’ is not a conventional cover version, but instead rethought as a tedious two-minute monologue, which may be part of some oblique plan to send up the futility of stardom and showbiz. Who knows.
The main body of the album is these low-key, slightly clunky (in an endearing way) electro-pop DIY episodes, free from the overworked sheen that blights so many electronics records from people with a big computer and too much time on their mitts. You may enjoy the jolly self-deprecating ice-cream sandwich that is ‘780-662-4214’, but the smart money is on ‘Mouth Sex’, a brilliant slab of ominous drone and grim, slow-paced beats that, if it is indeed attempting to portray something about the human condition, sees the sex act as an empty, joyless, near-mechanical spasm of self-gratification, that leaves both parties unsatisfied and exhausted.
The cover art depicts our man as a messianic apparition standing in an attic space, which he claims was photographed by a cult leader of some ill-renown. Well – those inclined to root further for a Charles Manson or Jim Jones styled message are advised to click on to the title track, where the innocent-seeming speech somehow threatens to turn dark and ominous at any moment, despite the reflective, twinkly music. Quite a headscratcher, but I like to support this kind of marginal and faintly mysterious item. (21/11/2024)