Arcana is delighted to hand our playlist baton over to Daniel Patrick Cohen, whose fascinating new album We Deliver is on our own playlist for review shortly.
Cohen, a Londoner living in Romania, has a particular love for film music and hip hop, and wrote a substantial score for Alfred Hitchcock’s The Pleasure Garden, as part of the British Film Institute’s Rescue The Hitchcock 9 enterprise, where composers were invited to score the director’s silent films.
With We Deliver, Cohen writes a love letter to hip hop in the form of a 32-track album featuring 67 musicians, described as a lo-fi work entirely made up of throwaway-type tracks that a hip hop producer might have written.
His playlist, then, contains 15 such ‘throwaway’ tracks, including inspired examples from the likes of Daft Punk, J Dilla, Radiohead, Björk and even Mozart alongside five of his own compositions blended in to reveal the loose connections. He elaborated for us:
“The idea is that these tracks were moments of magic which I imagine captured the mood on a day so perfectly that they resisted being developed and expanded. I think it’s worth elaborating that there’s nothing “lazy” about them; on the contrary, one could spend a lifetime waiting for these moments!”
Releasing a live album in these times of isolation is a bittersweet experience. Manu Delago will know more than most, as he has played well over 1,000 gigs – but this is the one program he wanted to freeze frame and share with his home audience.
The music centres on the European tour of Delago’s Cicadian album in late 2019, where the 18 gigs in 21 days were performed by the nine-piece Cicadian Ensemble. This is a band long in the making but with a pleasing symmetry, three players each assigned to the areas of percussion, strings and wind instruments.
The aim of Cicadian Live is to show that while electronic music forms an important part of Delago’s thinking, his musical communication is equally strong – and arguably emotionally deeper – through acoustic performance.
What’s the music like?
Every bit as enchanting as we heard on Cicadian, but with the added frisson of the live music environment. To hear these tracks evolve in the moment is to be there in the cycle with Delago himself, hanging on the next move of each of his instrumentalists.
As tracks like Draem evolve, with their striking textures, the ear is drawn to each new melodic development, each percussive layer and each twang of the string bass. Delago’s enchanting sound world benefits greatly from the intimacy of these live recordings, and the instinctive chemistry between all the players involved.
The collection Immediately creates its own rarefied atmosphere with The Silent Flight Of The Owl, one of Cicadian’s standout moments, and does not let up until we are set down 70 minutes later with B.F.G.
In the middle there are intimate moments of rare beauty, where the listener dare not breathe lest the peace be broken, and these contrasts with powerful bursts of momentum such as Almost Thirty, where a series of crescendos break out into no-holds barred freak-outs, and Zeitgeber, a blend of virtuosity and concentrated feeling which is a testament to the fine musicianship of all involved.
The brassy rasps of Satori work well, building up a head of steam, and contrast nicely with the ripples of Circadian itself, stopping time to mesmerising effect. Down To The Summit, like Almost Thirty a fully scored piece from 2015’s Silver Kobalt, captivates with its twists and turns.
Does it all work?
Yes, because the instincts and musical understanding of the nine ensemble members is compelling the whole way through. This was clearly a special tour, and it serves to hear the new tracks from the Cicadian album rub shoulders with the more established Delago output.
Is it recommended?
Very much so. The live album works even better if you have heard the studio account of Cicadian first – but if not it serves as an excellent introduction to Delago’s craft. Each track sets its own unique atmosphere but captures the attention with intricacy, craft and spontaneity.
While Max Richter made one of the standout contemporary pieces of the last few years in his eight-hour epic Sleep of 2015, encouraging us to fall asleep while it was running, this new album is a response to a lack of quality shuteye. The author, Manu Delago, found he was struggling to get lasting sleep while touring in different climates and time zones, but also looked for inspiration in the brain’s creative thoughts experienced during REM.
Circadian explores this phenomenon, along with light and deep sleep, capped with an abrupt awakening. Delago wrote it while on the road with label-mate Björk, The Cinematic Orchestra, Olafur Arnalds and Anoushka Shankar – and the approach is very different to that of Richter, driven as it is by soft percussion.
What’s the music like?
The list of Delago’s fellow artists is instructive, as his own music draws from his creative experiences with them, but ensures an individual path is also forged.
This is one of the quietest albums I have heard in some time, partly because the principle instrument, the handpan, is so soothing. The title track establishes its bright yet mottled colours, pleasing to the ear as a muffled steelpan might be. Yet as the striking and vividly descriptive track The Silent Flight Of The Owl shows, it combines really well with wind instruments and particularly clarinet, whose soft tones create an eerie impression in the half light, together with what sounds like a didgeridoo in the middle foreground.
The colours of Uranus, again with clarinet, are a sleepy blue, while The Moment I’m Still Awake employs the fuzzy drone of the harmonium, as though there were a fan in the room.
All these recordings are heading for the centrepiece, the 21-minute track Delta Sleep (Live at 4:33am). This depiction of deep sleep was recorded in the middle of the night through to the early hours, the ensemble combining in a hypnotic whole, their sounds fusing into each other with clicks, bright shafts of light and hints of fitful dreaming.
From this emerges Draem and then Zeitgeber, where our subject sits bolt upright, the music building on a syncopated clarinet which has now acquired a rasp to its tone. Adding broken beats, Delago cuts loose for the first time on a track fizzing with the energy of a new day, even though you suspect a slump might be just around the corner!
Does it all work?
From that lengthy description you hopefully get an idea of how effective and descriptive this album is. It does help to know the story behind the music in advance before listening, and to have the right environment for your Circadian experience. Delago’s colours are lovely to the ear and the handpan has a soothing sound, the instrumental craft and blending with ensemble members clear for all to hear.
Is it recommended?
Yes. Circadian could itself work as a sleep aid, providing you bail out before the last track. Delago’s picture painting is exquisite at times, and the relative lack of movement early on is not a problem once the subject has been established. It is a unique approach to an aspect of life that troubles and fascinates us all.