Switched On – Daniel Avery: Ultra Truth (Phantasy Sound)

by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

On his albums to date, Daniel Avery has used music as a tool for escapism, dealing as he calls it in ‘misty-eyed euphoria’.

Ultra Truth is the first of his albums to take a completely opposite approach, looking to face the darkness of our times head on. Avery does so with a big production arsenal, aided by Ghost Culture and Manni Dee, while guest vocals are provided by HAAi, Jonnine Standish (HTRK), AK Paul with the voices of Marie Davidson, Kelly Lee Owens, Sherelle and James Massiah.

What’s the music like?

Given the brief outlined above, it comes as no surprise to report that Ultra Truth is a big beast of an album. It’s cover is a remarkably accurate guide to the music contained within, which twists and turns through various forms of discomfort, while also finding broad canvases of dark ambience. These become an effective and alluring backdrop.

The album is full of imaginative rhythms and big, big spaces. No space is bigger than the one found on the deeply mysterious Wall Of Sleep, which has a wall of sound and a thumping good rhythm, not to mention enchanting vocals from HAAi. Higher is equally immersive only with darker colouring, supported by an ominous bass sound. Lone Swordsman, meanwhile, has a fluorescent loop dancing in the middle distance

Sometimes the thick ambience can be oppressive, and Overflowing With Esscape expands so the speakers can barely contain its far reaching tendrils. By contrast, a track such as Collapsing Sky has an empty, remote feel – yet the floated chords still offer a form of consolation.

Avery’s rhythm tracks are often busy, providing a percussive clatter for the likes of Devotion, while thick and intensely ambient figures hang above like musical clouds. Only has more of a shoegaze / Cocteau Twins feel.

Does it all work?

It certainly does. As with his previous long players, Avery shows an effortless ease with structures large and small, meaning the listener can dip into individual tracks or pan out for the whole magnum opus.

Is it recommended?

Without hesitation. This is an artist whose body of work is gaining in stature with each release, as deep emotion and musical sensibilities sit seamlessly together. Another outstanding release.

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Switched On – Stoned Autopliot: Light Vessel Automatic (FRNTR)

by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

Martin Buttrich is known primarily for the ability to deliver a dancefloor belter, whether in a solo capacity for labels such as Planet E, Cocoon, Poker Flat and Four:Twenty, or in collaboration with fellow producers such as Timo Maas and Loco Dice.

His new alias Stoned Autopilot might come as a surprise, then, for fans of the Los Angeles-based producer. Under its umbrella he casts the net wider, including firm nods towards jazz and chill out music, all the while making an album that hangs together as a single structure just as well as it does at being a collection of 13 tracks.

What’s the music like?

Both assured and extremely listenable. Buttrich has clearly honed his craft in the down tempo area, and these productions show an original thought process and a really impressive mastery of the sounds and textures at his disposal.

On occasion you can feel the warm Californian climate coming through – it does so immediately in the dreamy June, Flawless and the dappled light evoked through Sun Of Sunshine, and also Purple Jack which makes a strong impression later in the album.

Other productions are more cinematic, and on the superb Ending For Us, Buttrich uses descriptive cello lines and vocals to make a track full of character. Better Days draws out a leading piano line to really good effect, while Jazzalude really enjoys its percussive excursions and freedom over a longer structure.

Perhaps most importantly, Light Vessel Automatic doesn’t take itself too seriously, and through the album you get touches of humour, irreverence and a lighter mood that makes Buttrich’s music work on several levels. Lighter tracks such as Indecisive breeze past attractively, needing little effort but maintaining the warm temperature.

Does it all work?

It does – a really rewarding mixture of serious and lighter tracks brought together as a convincing chill out album. It works just as well in the foreground as it does in the background.

Is it recommended?

It is, a really enjoyable album proving Martin Buttrich’s versatility as a producer, and his refusal to play along with established formulas. Well worth getting!

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You can buy this release from the Juno website

Switched On – Marcel Dettmann: Fear of Programming (Dekmantel)

by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

Fear of Programming sounds like a frank confessional – and certainly isn’t an affliction you would wish on an electronic musician!

Yet for Marcel Dettmann, the Berlin techno veteran, his first album in ten years has been assembled with what seems like the minimum of fuss.

What’s the music like?

After a floated introduction, Dettmann wastes no time in getting down to business. Suffice To Predict is spacey, and contrasts nicely with the volleys of percussion and displaced harmonies unleashed by Renewal Theory.

Dettmann sees little reason to change his previous winning formula, and it is a good decision given the conviction with which he goes about his writing. With its bumpy beat and booming vocals from Ryan Elliott, Water is an excellent track, while the brooding square waves of Reverse Dreams are also excellent, complemented by the percussion-heavy x12.

Much of the writing has a minimal approach which works really well, especially the bubbling (Batteries Not Included). Dettmann’s music for the head is good too – witness the swirly textures of Picture 2020, which work especially well on headphones.

Does it all work?

It does – Dettmann gets the right balance between getting the feet to move and getting the head to explore.

Is it recommended?

It certainly is. Great to have him back!

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On Record: s t a r g a z e – ONE (Transgressive Records)

by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

s t a r g a z e is both an innovative ensemble crossing borders between classical and modern music, and a typist’s nightmare! The group was founded in Berlin and Amsterdam, and prides itself on a flexible and collaborative musical approach.

Collaboration was certainly the name of the game with ONE, whereby five different composers from around the world wrote a piece remotely in lockdown-imposed isolation. The music was then arranged for and with the help of the s t a r g a z e group, who recorded it online, part by part.

What’s the music like?

Engaging. Greg Saunier’s Metaphor begins in reserved fashion, with serious intonations that grow into more colourful statements, the wind section of the orchestra taking the lead. The orchestration has a timbre suggesting the 1920s, though as it progresses the music becomes more animated and a little playful, before an extended chorale led by the piano.

Arone Dyer’s Voicecream is much less conservative in its output, with sweeping statements suggesting an orchestra on the edge, with melodic movements that are much more difficult to predict or trace. A series of punchy block chords takes over half way through, stalling the momentum but adding impressive gravitas to the music.

Vacancy, written by Tyondai Braxton, is a compelling conversation between very different viewpoints – one, a series of swirling motifs, another a more relaxed but authoritative series of chords, yet another voice given out in flurries of woodwind. Nik Colk Void’s Recollection Pulse #3 is similarly convincing, though uses much more minimal material in its percussion. Just the one chord, repeated in syncopation, pushes this music forward over bass notes that effectively stand for the strokes of the oars on a boat. Gradually and inevitably the piece moves forwards before grinding into the dust somewhat, reaching an eerie and evocative conclusion.

Finally Descend, from Aart Strootman, evolves under a haze of orchestral light, some beautiful colours extracted from relatively coarse string and wind textures. A drone-like effect is cast, but with largely consonant harmonies that transport the listener into a comforting cloud, growing ever denser as they progress and then relaxing to softer, wind-based colours and a gently oscillating coda.

Does it all work?

Yes. It is tempting to say that a bit of spontaneity is lost in the recording method, but great credit should go to musicians and composers alike for ensuring that more often than not the musicians and instruments feel like they were recorded in the same room.

Is it recommended?

Yes. An intriguing suite for sure – with music that successfully sits at a junction between modern classical and improvisation, evading categorisation with grace, poise and a welcome dash of humour.

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Switched On – Clarice Jensen: Esthesis (130701)

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

Esthesis is the third album from cellist and composer Clarice Jensen. Initially it was to be a concert experience, comprising a series of long drones that would cycle sequentially through the ‘circle of fifths’, moving from the pitches of C to F.

Unfortunately the pandemic put paid to any plans for a live experience, and Jensen regrouped to realise the concept in solitary form. As she writes, “I expanded my usual palette of layered and treated cellos without the effect of a more grandiose or large-scale feeling of timbre; I wished to employ additional media in an effort to further portray the idea of isolation and containment.”

Jensen goes on to describe the album. “’Sadness is a setting of Purcell’s Dido’s Lament. Liking begins with tentative hope and then blossoms, using an additive compositional process, whereas Disliking is subtractive. Anger uses text taken from Simone de Beauvoir’s letters to Nelson Algren. Fear attempts to simply portray breathing and absence. The organs used on Love suggest hallowed spaces, employing only a short progression that always returns to the same but becomes layered, out-of-sync and lost, but simplest at its end.

What’s the music like?

Deeply intimate – but not in an intrusive way.

Liking sets the tone, using the ‘home’ key of the cello if you like, with the C string being its lowest uniform note, and it builds in layers before settling on a drone that gives an immensely ambient sonority. Sadness takes on an ethereal chill, bright but with soft and mournful tones while Anger really is a striking piece, the emotion portrayed first through disorientating voices but then through an increasingly bothersome treble drone, held above low rumblings in the bass.

Disliking assembles a pile of ambient textures, and while not as confrontational as its title suggests it definitely carries an undercurrent. Joy, on the other hand, is rich and colourful, the sun streaming through an imaginary window as its oscillations proceed, before a softly undulating piano takes hold.

Fear – an all too real emotion during the pandemic – lives up to its billing with discomforting textures and figurations, and the return of that high pitch. Thankfully this is not the final emotion, as Love puts everything back in its rightful place, with consonant harmonies and cushioned textures.

Does it all work?

It does – and as a whole, rather than split into the engaging sections.

Is it recommended?

Yes – a compelling cycle of emotions to which we can all relate, beautifully played and recorded.

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