album // Swift
Twenty tracks, designed to be played in a random order, if you follow the instructions on the sleeve. This is a collaboration between the guitars, keyboards tapes and generally superior sound collation and design of Simon Fisher Turner and the reeds of Gilad Atzmon. Contributions also come from 'The Action Jackson Orchestra Perhaps' which sees intruments and non-instruments mingling in the mix (if you don't believe this, consider that Olivier Blomeier is credited with 'telexprinter' while Jochen Schloder is credited with 'birdplay'), as well as 'mono cassette percussion' from Aki Onda. It's a thoroughly absorbing and typically atmospheric album, possessing an event-driven dynamic of loud bursts of noise, and inwardly-focused introspection.
Tapes, samples and clever sound processing are central to the overall sound, and the use of recorded atmospheres is notably effective. Although, a listener should be warned that it can be quite hard at times to disinguish between the sounds in the mix, and those in the real world if you are listening to this on a portable player; and don't, under any circumstances attempt to listen to this on a train - it is impossible, particularly with a window open nearby.
It is a testament to Turner's eclecticism that this album covers off a multitude of styles, including jazzy hornwork, string-laced melodies, and beautiful vocal harmonies (check out the country/blues meets digitalia of 'Tusalava'). I didn't want to mention Simon's soundtrack work in this review, and actually the way this album veers across genres, it's actually more like a mini movie, with each track representing a new scene, each musical strand a different character, and the combinations of styles on the tracks representing dialogue between the characters. It's an imperfect analogy I know, but how else are you to explain the burbling synths, raucous industrial noise and phasing free jazz of 'Colourfaker'?
Albums straddling genres can frequently appear chaotic or shambolic in their quest to create new styles; there is little of that showmanship here, just clever interaction, mood interplay and emotional depth. Atzmon's sax and clarinets provide the album's tracks with often mournful hues or urgency, while snatches of harmonica and downtempo blues guitar vary the tones. Aside from the actual mix, the electronics, and digital progressing, are for me the most captivating elements. With so much laptop work becoming every bit as bland as its binary building blocks, it's great to hear some programming that actually has some direction and feeling, and isn't stale and overly-obsessed with the technology that produced it. It's the work of a modern genius, so you perhaps shouldn't be surprised.