Oi oi oi! Do I have a treat for you! I'm about to set off for a two week vacation, but before I go, I want to present you with an amazing mix from none other than Ben Lukas Boysen, aka Hecq! As you could have already guessed from these pages, I am a big fan of Hecq's dark and crunchy IDM and his amazing modern classical compositions. I usually end up including at least one of his tracks in most of my mixes. In the beginning of this year I sang praise to his latest album, Steeltongued (Hymen, 2009), following up with Two and a Half Questions With Hecq. In 2008, his Night Falls (Hymen, 2008) album arrived at the tier 1 of our Absolute Musts, in Headphone Commute's Best of 2008. And when I revisited the Top 50 of 2007, his album, 0000 (Hymean, 2007) showed up on the list once again. Even the owner of Tympanik Audio, Paul Nielsen, has revealed that he would be honored to have a release by Hecq on his label, in our Tympanik Audio Label Profile. Enough said?
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Listening to Tummaa requires preparation. At least, it requires knowledge of the intent behind this album. Let me set the stage. The intent is 'darkness'. And this is its music. Tummaa reflects the mood recreated by Sasu Ripatti, composing under the moniker Vladislav Delay, while living on a remote island in the Baltic Sea during the time of year known as 'kaamos' (polar night). This is precisely the time from December to February, where there is only a few hours of light per day. This overall feeling of darkness made an enormous impression on Ripatti. The track titles alone construct the following message: Kuula (Kiitos) means Bullet (Thank You); Mustelmia means Bruises; Musta Planeetta - Black Planet; Toive - Wish; and finally Tunnelivisio (ok, can you guess that one?) - Tunnel Vision. Ripatti last made a sizable impression on me with his previous album, Whistleblower, released on his own label, Huume, in 2007. Now, back in Finland after seven years of living in Berlin, Ripatti returns with a few elements from his roots as a percussionist. The album may take more than a few listens for the followers of Vladislav Delay's to get into the groove. There is no dub on here. Instead, gentle piano riffs and Rhodes licks are interrupted with clicks, chirps and musique concrète snippets of sounds snatched from a variety of metallic and industrial sources. Even a deep rumbling sigh becomes a bass here. This is Ripatti's return to the source of acoustic and organic. “I wanted to take a new direction with Vladislav Delay, with more acoustic sound sources,” he explains. “I avoided as much electronics as possible, wanting to bring myself closer to my background as a drummer and percussionist. [...] I just love hitting things... making sounds physically without needing a power plug.” The album incorporates some abstract and jazzy improvisation featuring a live trio – Lucio Capece on saxophone and clarinet, Craig Armstrong on the keys, and Ripatti on percussion. After intensive sample manipulation, some modulations remind me of descending spaceships from the 70s. Some sound a lot like circuit bending emissions. Some sounds are like nothing I've ever heard before (from an organic source). All of this is blended with the swirls of abstract effects, sporadic glitches and scattered ambiance, floating in a three dimensional stereo field. Through this dark and somber concoction, full of dread and isolation, we descend into Tummaa. I can imagine the overall recording to be a flashback to a bad psychedelic trip. At times groovy, hypnotic, and rough around the edges. The entire experience will keep your ears prickled up, and your eyes wide open. A serious juxtaposition of sounds even for a seasoned listener. Be sure to check out Ripatti's percussion work as a member of Moritz Von Oswald Trio (with Max Loderbauer and of course, Morritz von Oswald) on their latest release, Vertical Ascent (Honest Jon's Records, 2009), as well as his other works under aliases like Conoco, Luomo, Sistol, and Uusitalo. Oh, and don't forget his collaboration with Antye Greie as AGF/Delay and their 2009 release, Symptoms out on BPitch Control.
I first listened to Ben Frost when he released his sophomore full length album, Theory Of Machines on Bedroom Community back in 2007. I described his music as ambient hardcore - psychologically raw, punishing, and overdriven guitars, with reverberated pads and rhythms that mutate into white noise and back, sending chills that originate deep from within your ear canal and slide down to your toenails. That album left a lasting impression on me. Enough to select it as one of the best albums of the year. I didn't think that Theory Of Machines could be outdone... That is... until I put on By The Throat. While listening to Theory Of Machines, I compared Frost's sound to that of an angry furry armadillo, creeping up the inside of my legs with a cold long needle, leaving me drenched in sweat. And with this latest installment, the chills rise up my spine and hold me, in perpetual, electric shock. The cover art alone puts into my mind the images of my final moments, lying naked on the snow, steam rising from the breath of a hungry wolf, his teeth sunk into my throat. And the track titles do not let up. Through The Glass Of The Roof, Through The Roof Of Your Mouth, Through The Mouth Of Your Eye. And the music? Dark grinding metallic strings scratched through distorted pads, deep breaths, growls, and choking melodies. The intensity of the bass and guitar riffs create instant goose bumps, tickling the inside of my ears, and clawing at my chest. White knuckled at the seat, I think I accidentally scratched a healing scab off of my back and now I'm bleeding through this white collar shirt, the tie restricting my cries. Let me out! I've heard some dark and terrifying ambiance in my lifetime, but Frost's onslaught is incredible. I stand applauding. And the production? We've got top notch mastering going on here, with perfectly sampled strings played with dry bows over thumping kick, and rising voices. With contributions from Jeremy Gara of The Arcade Fire, Icelandic quartet Amiina, Swedish grindcore band Crowpath, and of course, the classical touch of Nico Muhly the roster of artists is exciting alone. Oh, and did I mention that it was co-produced by Valgeir Sigurðsson? It was created under the cloak of nocturnal snow in the far northern reaches of financial-fantasy island, a concept borne of Frost and weapons manufacturer, war monger and evil genius 
Close the doors and turn up the sound. This is ambiance that needs to be really heard. Quietly chirping submerged engines are silenced by waves of bowed cello. The sound of rippling water seeps through the drones of strings. This is the organic world of Solo Andata - an Australian duo comprised of Paul Fiocco and Kane Ikin. Having previously released their debut, Fyris Swan (Hefty, 2006), the duo got picked up by 12k, and contributed a recording to Live In Melbourne (12k, 2008), appearing among tracks by Seaworthy, and label owner, Taylor Deupree. Solo Andata is their highly anticipated release for the New York minimal and ambient label. The album is mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi and is accompanied by a mini booklet of 8-piece photography by Deupree himself. This is a warm album, covering you with a blanket of organic materials, natural field recordings, and swells of ambient soundscapes. The restraint and delicate touch within this production stops time, thought, and all of the pain. Solo Andata is the sensual reflexology for the mind. The concept behind the album, reveals "a theme of travel from cold to warm, water to earth, fluidity to stasis, conceptually representing a thread between water and land." The meditative nature of these pieces focuses the inner ear on within, while the outer contemplates without. At the epicenter lies the focus of the album, Look For Me Here. This is the place that you reach after descending through the laid out paths of an early morning forest, quiet nights, and misty caves. This beautiful track is also available from the label as a single, with remixes by the above mentioned Giuseppe Ielasi and Ryuichi Sakamoto. Make sure to grab that one. And by the time Loom comes out with a crying cello by Louise McKay, you're truly in love. Fans of Hildur Guðnadóttir will melt within. The duo uses barely any electronic instruments. Most of the heard sounds are resonating from strings, voices, guitar and a piano. The sourced material has been painstakingly captured, post-processed, and folded back into the pieces, often reflecting the origin within the titles. For example, “Woods Flesh Bone” actually records wood, flesh (from a dead chicken) and bones. “Canal Rocks” contains a recording of wind through the rocks in a small alcove in southwestern Australia called Canal Rocks. “Hydraulic Fluctuations” is a recording of the fluid fluctuations inside a large pump, “Ablation” is ice and wind. Highly recommended for all wonders of 12k, above mentioned artists, plus Richard Skelton, Lawrence English, and Christopher Bissonnette. Bravo, 12k! Well done! This is a great catch, hold onto this one. And I'll be more than eager to follow this group along its intricately formed path, even if their way is only one way, the solo andata.
Robin Rimbaud spent his life listening to others. In his early works, Rimbaud tuned into the airwaves to pluck out pieces of radio, mobile phone conversations and police broadcasts. These were intricately edited and folded back into his compositions, producing an experimental genre of his own, often gathering international admiration from the likes of Aphex Twin and even Stockhausen. This is yet another one of Rimbaud's albums as Scanner, adding to his e-n-d-l-e-s-s discography (seriously huge), spawning collaborations with DJ Spooky, Alva Noto, Kim Cascone, and Vitiello among many others. And Rockets, Unto The Edges Of Edges does not disappoint. The album starts off with vocal samples, strums of guitar and Rimbaud's own gentle singing. That is until the kick drops and bounces away. The distorted bits and pieces of voices continue to dominate the background of Scanner's recordings. We are, after all, eavesdropping. This mixture of acoustic instrumentation and electronic treatments evolves, introducing a full on string ensemble conducted in the rhythm of solid beat and bitcrushed percussion. And by the time I arrive at track three, titled Anna Livia Plurabelle, which is full of classical operetta vocals by the acclaimed soprano Patricia Rozario, crying in angst, I realize the grandiose accomplishment of Scanner's work, painting a cinematic masterpiece from lost and found fragments. The rest is just as beautiful. Speckles of found voices, radar transmissions, and environmental recordings are hardly intrusive in this purely musical piece. "The ghostly presence of William Burroughs and philosopher Bertrand Russell weave their way through some of the pieces, opening into the dark heart of "Yellow Plains Under White Hot Blue Sky", an epic, almost menacing work, with corrosive voices, noises and abstract shapes over a primordial electronic beat, that continues to build and ignite with bowed strings into a picturesque precise explosion." Although I can't say that I've heard every album by Rimbaud, I can definitely agree with the critics that this is his most mature and personal album to date. A soundtrack to a voyeur's life finally turned inwards. This is organic, this is digital, this is modern classical at its best. Completely unexpected and highly recommended for fans of Max Richter and Jóhann Jóhannsson. Pick up your copy from the Essen (Germany) based BineMusic, while I scratch this winner onto my upcoming Best of 09. Need I say more? See more of Rimbaud's current and upcoming work in my 
In terms of technique, Jamie Watts, the man behind KiloWatts, is an extremely accomplished producer; he knows how to make music that sounds great. His last full-length album, Ground State, released on Evan Bartholomew's Native State Records, stood out for its fresh and chunky sound. It featured a rolling mid-tempo groove, using mostly an acoustic drum sample set, to go with dynamic and full-bodied synths that displayed Watt's taste for thick, growling lead sounds in the lower register. At times, the bass took center stage and propelled the music forward, like on the excellent track Dub Serious. Watts has tried his hand at a variety of genres. His last few releases have ranged from the mid-tempo IDM grooves of Ground State to the tech house of the Snakewinds and Love on Saturn EPs, both released on Noah Pred's minimal techno and house offshoot of Native State, Thoughtless Music. Now, with Undercurrent, he's followed Evan over to his new Somnia label for a stab at downtempo/ambient. “With this album, I wanted to focus on the essence of melody and expose it in a raw form through the electronic medium," says Watts. "The source of the main melodies came from repetitive hooks I found myself sporadically singing or humming during day to day business. Think of the joyful tunes whistled during a walk. These melodic mantras seem to pop up out of nowhere and go on repeating forever... From a larger perspective, I felt that the search for these melodies was similar to unearthing subconscious archetypes that drive reality. the process was like discovering an ever-flowing undercurrent of reality that can be translated directly into melody." The funny thing is that taken as a whole, the album is not defined by the strength of the melodies. There are a couple of standouts - Rode Falls and Ayandan - that are blessed with the kind of riffs that seem to have been around forever. They're like old friends you haven't seen for a while. The Undercurrent Is Love is also hummable if not as memorable. But more often than not the album is defined by the mood it evokes. Most of the tracks are based on short repeated motifs that ebb and flow with the undulating tide or the movement of the current. Opener Cascade Serenade flows by effortlessly, but most of the album is tinged with a darker hue. As if gray clouds are gathering and the waves are beginning to swell. There's an ominous undercurrent to Couette and Seed is vaguely sinister, like a snake slithering along just underneath the water's surface. On Nightshade, the crickets and other creatures of the night come out to play. The album culminates in the 12-minute The Moment Just Before Dawn, with a single phrase repeated over and over again like a persistent mantra, slowly building toward a majestic crescendo. The sonic landscape of Undercurrent is compact, with clearly defined boundaries. The sounds mostly seem to originate from the same source, as if Watts decided to stick with one trusted synth and one electric piano throughout the making of the album. Most significantly, he has largely - though thankfully not completely - done away with the beats that have been such a defining feature of his music until now. It has to be said that while there are moments of beauty on Undercurrent and the album as a whole grows on you, the tracks that make the biggest impression are the ones that have a pulse. Watts is most in his element when he's working with a beat, or at least a strong rhythmic element, such as on Rode Falls, Seed and Nightshade. The percussion, although further in the background than is usual for him, gives the songs a much more vivid presence and sense of development. Nevertheless, it's clear that Undercurrent has served to expand KiloWatts' horizons, even if the addition of one more genre to his discography risks confusing some of his audience. Be sure to check out Watt's digital releases on Thoughtless Music, Harmonious Discord, as well as his own outlet, KiloWatts Music (see Six Silicates EP). Also, looks like Jamie finally re-released his collaboration with Peter Van Ewijk as KiloWatts & Vanek titled Focus and Flow (Dependent, 2009).
Plastik Joy is an intriguing duo, if only for the fact that one of them, Cristiano Nicolini, is from Italy and the other, Fannar Ásgrímsson, is Icelandic. You can’t get any closer to “fire and ice” than that. The two met while studying audio engineering in Barcelona and began working together on a couple of songs at the end of 2007. Little did they know what a fortuitous decision it would be when they decided to establish a Myspace page shortly thereafter, in January 2008. First, Myspace led them to Swedish singer Sarah K. Hellström, who ended up writing the lyrics and melody and recording the vocals for their first tune, Hands. She didn’t actually meet Cristiano and Fannar in person until months after the song was completed. But more amazingly, in June 2008, they received a message on Myspace from Mike Cadoo, owner of renowned electronic music label n5MD, who had heard their songs on the site and wanted to discuss a record deal! One short month later, Plastik Joy had signed with the label. And now, 3:03, the debut album from the Myspace poster boys is here for all to hear. At first, if you're not in the right frame of mind, the dreamy, downtempo vibe of 3:03 may strike you as a bit too laid back - like the heat from the fire has melted the ice. But the simple, unassuming melodies grow on you. It’s an album that rewards – in fact, demands – repeated listening and immersion. You’ll come to love the undeniably warm, feel-good glow of Sleepy Quest for Coffee and Hands, the opening tracks of the album, which also happen to be the first two songs that the pair wrote together. From there, the rest of the album opens up like a budding flower. The subtle electronics and acoustic instrumentation, with mellow guitar in a prominent role, make for an addictive concoction. Although Plastik Joy employ several singers on the album, it comes across very much as an instrumental album. Rather than leading the way, the vocals more often than not serve like any other instrument, adding one more color to the bittersweet vibe. On Hands, for example, Hellström’s breathy vocals, which hint slightly at Nina Persson of The Cardigans, blend completely into the sonic landscape. There are one or two brief moments on 3:03 where the surface calm is broken by an outburst of noise, like an involuntary release of pent up energy, but in general, subtlety is the name of the game. It takes a great deal of skill and sensitivity to sustain an atmosphere of such refined delicacy throughout a whole album but Fannar and Cristiano carry it off with aplomb. Considering that this is just their first album, it whets the appetite for what's to come. 3:03 gets its name from the time of morning at which recording sessions usually ended and n5MD touts the album's "nocturnal vibe". There's definitely something to that. 63 (she was trying to sleep, I was trying to breathe), for example, is a pure lullaby. But the first half of the album conjures up images of late afternoons lounging on the beach with a cool drink in hand. If you're looking for something to relax to poolside, it'll most certainly do the trick. Just watch out you don't fall asleep in the sun.
