Bring Me the Head Of Kyle Bobby Dunn - Kyle Bobby Dunn

Bring Me the Head of Kyle Bobby Dunn

Kyle Bobby Dunn

Low Point Records.

SCQ Rating: 81%

Few catalogs in the ambient genre prove as bizarre and beguiling as Kyle Bobby Dunn’s. Intensely personal – enough so that Dunn’s name features into his album titles with the same proclivity as Weezer dedicating records to Crayola colours – and unerringly shapeless, it’s the traits that some might view as hindrances that give Dunn’s post-classical soundscapes their memorable hue. It helps that he’s also quite prolific. Since being introduced with A Young Person’s Guide To… in the winter of 2010, shortly after I moved to snowy Ottawa, my iTunes has grown to contain no less than five hours of subsequent Kyle Bobby Dunn material. And that’s not even all of it.

Bring Me the Head of Kyle Bobby Dunn finds the Brooklyn-based artist transitioning again, away from last spring’s concise Ways Of Meaning LP and into the long-form, double-record ambitions of yore. Which brings me to Dunn’s other noteworthy trademark – his uniformity. With so many releases spawned from a minimalist’s palette, it’s a testament to his blurred compositions that Bring Me the Head Of… maintains the fresh feel of what is ultimately another tribute to solitude. With instrumentation that sounds more comparable to streetlights at dusk, quiet sidewalks and hazy memories than guitar, strings or other tools designed to emanate sound, “The Hungover” and “La Chanson de Beurrage” lurch gracefully in circles that usher an emotional resonance to surface. Other tracks make their impact quicker: “An Evening With Dusty” presents a nostalgic drone-piece while “Diamond Cove (And Its Children Were Watching)” cuts directly to the gooey center of a climax without forsaking its atmosphere. Like all of Dunn’s releases, however, the best tracks unveil themselves slowly over multiple listens, and appeal on the grounds of personal sensitivities rather than any tangible, melodic qualities. It’s why “Douglas Glen Theme” floors me and I can’t properly explain why.

Over the past two years, Kyle Bobby Dunn has indeed become one of my favourite ambient artists, even when acknowledging that his releases don’t arouse a level of excitement that befits the occasion. Listening intently to these transient drones doesn’t have nearly the effect as trying to ignore them does, as if Dunn’s insisting that we absorb these tonal landscapes into our personal lives with the same casualness by which he seemingly accumulated them. As such, it’s impossible for me to hear Bring Me the Head Of… without reflecting on my impending move from Ottawa and all of the memories I can link to Dunn’s evocative output during my time here. Bearing the same faultless uniformity as before, Bring Me the Head Of… defies any ranking amidst Dunn’s discography. Instead, I can only promise that it’s as potent, inspiring and cryptic as the others.

Biodance - Crisopa

Biodance

Crisopa

n5MD Records.

SCQ Rating: 80%

Naked women don’t figure into electronic music that often. Moreover sex doesn’t sell in this scene, probably because people willing to immerse themselves in a musical form that largely dispels hooks, repetition and vocals likely aren’t the demographic to objectify or be swayed by nude provocations. Not to say that Biodance’s cover-art seeks to challenge or offend anyone; it certainly doesn’t bother me. But it addresses a cornerstone of humanity – sexuality – that rarely gets a nod in comparison to most electronic muses (namely – childhood nostalgia, natural imagery and states of clairvoyance). Crisopa’s style fits far more comfortably into these well-trodden themes than as the sort of slick club beats you’d spin while envisioning naked women in your gin and tonic but like the cover-art, these songs navigate unique headspace.

Without breaking ground on any new territory, Crisopa has taken electronic music’s insular nature to the dance-floor. The evidence is all over “Ruled By Strange New Laws”, a familiar analog-fed drone-piece that rises into a frothy, dream-bound club-banger. That template follows suit after the starry piano refrain of “Gaviot”, the patient choral of “Es Todo Mental” and the latest house rhythms on “Biodance With Me”, with each boiling over into a rich euphoria. These lush beats aren’t intended to clash against whatever dubstep happens to be cresting at the moment; Crisopa’s dance-floor remains a personal one – your apartment’s kitchen with the lights out, your neighbourhood after dark, virtually anywhere that feels intimate. Because despite Biodance’s modus operandi, which gives Boards Of Canada’s mystic feel a linear push into the line-up outside the club, Crisopa’s work demonstrates vivid sensuality in soft focus. Whether listening to the BoC-indebted loneliness of “White Vacuum” or the seismic landscape of “Planets With Lava Oceans”, Biodance deserves to be heard in the dark - before, during or after you’ve been in proximity to someone you love. It’s that sort of listen; a headphone record you dance alone to.

Bird Eyes - Wind Up Radio Sessions

Bird Eyes

Wind Up Radio Sessions

Independent/Bandcamp.

SCQ Rating: 76%

The sophomore release by Montreal-based folksters Wind Up Radio Sessions displays an earnest songwriting unit thriving off their own disciplines. Without once forsaking their approach for anything resembling a radio bid, Bird Eyes makes an intricate yarn of lilting melodies and warm undertones. It’s a compact approach that deserves humble praise, for these are songs that take the edge off of tough days – like lullabies for twenty-somethings.

Mid-tempo jams like “Chesterfields” and the vaguely psychedelic “Legally Dead” air welcome bits of distortion into an otherwise acoustic set, while “Backporch” defies expectations with a lived-in synth cresting its chorus. These pockets of relaxed rock gel well with quiet ruminations that carry just as much bite. A wire-tough guitar line gives the reflective “Our Ways” some latent bluster whereas “Blades Of Grass” relies on powerful lyrics and sparse acoustics to transcend. With no less than three singers in rotation and enough smart studio nuances to flesh out their quiet ideas, Wind Up Radio Sessions have a cultish likeability not unlike The Shins; instead of forging new territory or making statements, they remind us what’s delicate and powerful in the comforts of the traditional. An understated but memorable folk-rock gem.

fin - John Talabot

fin

John Talabot

Permanent Vacation Records.

SCQ Rating: 80%

Blame it on a hyperbole-dependent press or my own winter-sick reluctance but I wasn’t overly keen on hearing a record that evokes the “kind of bliss associated with dancing on Mediterranean beaches at the height of summer” (The Guardian). At least not during a Canadian February. John Talabot’s fin, a full-length that had been anticipated in some circles – and not just Mediterranean ones – for nearly four years, didn’t need patience in my case so much as adrenaline, which aligned when fin became my album-of-choice while running the local gym’s track.

Tempo, the lead criteria by which I’d first chosen the disc, gave Talabot all of the fuel he needed to shake my slight expectations. Although still certainly a dance record full of rhythm and slick dynamics, fin graduates to the realm of capital-A Album status on the heels of its opening trifecta alone. The dense jungle that inhabits “Depak Ine”, the tropics-inflected groove of “Destiny” and an ambient head-spin known as “El Oeste” provide more than enough flexibility to ensure that fin becomes notorious for far greater accomplishments than a heavy BPM index. Through pop-leaning vocal tracks like “Journeys”, in which contributor Ekhi calls to mind Panda Bear’s role on Pantha du Prince’s Black Noise, and instrumental dance cuts like “H.O.R.S.E.”, Talabot’s meticulous sound-environment tends to inform the beat (instead of the other way around).

Given that a few of these songs were available as singles in advance of the full-length, it’s expected that some tracks give up their mystique easier than others. “Last Land” hits the nerve of its main hook early and rides it longer than necessary, whereas the compacted “Estiu” could’ve thrived off of its slippery bass figure for a few minutes more. That said, any learning curve detectable on fin feels theoretical at best, since each track operates facets of the same exotic and nocturnal mood, thereby making it easy to overlook a passable dance track in favour of sprinting through Talabot’s whole set. If “So Will Be Now…”, the concluding collaboration with Pional that challenges every other dance track this year, can be heard as the hands-in-the-air finish line, fin represents the shadowy, sensual journey that got us there.

Cosyland - Laid Back

Cosyland

Laid Back

Brother Music.

SCQ Rating: 75%

As electronic music continues to infiltrate the mainstream, we’re seeing a generation ahead of even the early hipsters reclaiming the bands that pioneered machine-music in the first place. During a time when the Museum of Modern Art in New York City is honouring Kraftwerk’s entire catalog disc-by-disc, even Danish duo Laid Back, who had a string of popular songs in the early 80s, have reemerged to toast their influence.

John Guldberg and Tim Stahl never disappeared entirely from the music scene but Cosyland offers a fresh spin on the retrospective mentality, taking rarities from their early 80s analog tapes, tweaking them appropriately, and unleashing them onto a new audience. Reintroducing Laid Back’s sound proves an immediate no-brainer; the likes of “Cocaine Cool” (an extended cut over the version that premiered on a 2010 compilation) and “Get Laid Back” present a gorgeous merger of clean electronics that purists will bask in and island accents that prevent the duo from sounding sterile. Add whispery but well-mixed vocals sporadically into the flow and Laid Back assert themselves as entirely viable in 2012. The fixed rhythm of “Get Laid Back” allows some light space-disco impulses to rumble beneath while “Cocaine Cool” bubbles over some light crooning like an ideal pre-club anthem.

And although the title track is among their best examples of sleek electro-pop on display, its double-inclusion (the other being the video edit) introduces the overarching issue with Cosyland: there isn’t enough here to satiate even an EP’s worth. Having removed the lengthier but near-identical “Cosyland” mix, this release expires in less than twenty minutes, which feels particularly disappointing because what’s here is genuinely fantastic. Had Laid Back added some newly written material to these archival beauties – now that would’ve been a real return-to-form. 

Paths - Olan Mill

Paths

Olan Mill

Facture Records.

SCQ Rating: 76%

Paths, the new record from Olan Mill, arrived in Skeleton Crew Quarterly’s inbox through an anonymous source. No press release, no small-talk. In all fairness, I’d have completely ignored the email had the anonymous source not been, as it turns out, a writer from a well-respected music website. So I gave it a spin and let me tell you: ignorance is bliss. At the risk of not doing my job properly, I’ve taken to Paths’ neo-classical tides without any insight on the creative impulses behind Olan Mill or Facture Records; these compositions speak perfectly well for themselves.

One listen to “Bleu Polar” and one immediately understands the appeal. Blossoming out of a warm string passage, the opening track moves like a slow-motion daydream that’s at once tragic, uplifting and cinematic in a decidedly reserved way. Striking a vein similar to the dense but airy ambience permeating Stars Of the Lid’s work, Olan Mill then branches into a rippling, piano-based vignette “Springs” and the drone-fed “On Waiting”, the latter building as slowly and purposefully as a dramatic film score.

Paths distinguishes itself as two halves, perhaps as a hint to how superior Olan Mill might sound on limited edition vinyl, but there’s no overt difference between the approaches of 'Side A' and 'Side B'. “On Leaving”, a less weighty sibling to “On Waiting”, ends the record on a celestial high, with symphonic nuances layered over an emotional but steady plateau. Eschewing neo-classical’s high-brow reputation for compositions that are expressively mood-based and unobtrusive, Paths should elbow itself a loving position on the iPod of any ambient fan that loves having their heart-strings pulled.