CARBON BASED LIFEFORMS (NOTCH): THE PATH (1998)
1) Intro; 2) Behind The
Corner; 3) Rain; 4) Rise To Tomorrow; 5) Hold; 6) Machinery; 7) And Contact; 8)
Sinful Things; 9) Dreamshore Forest; 10) Submerged; 11) Contaminated Area; 12)
Last Breath; 13) Station Blue; 14) Or Plan B.
Okay, so properly speaking, this is not quite Carbon
Based Lifeforms yet: this is credited to «Notch», a band that, in addition to
Johannes Hedberg and Daniel Ringström, also included a third musician, Mikael
Lindqvist, credited here for at least three of the tracks. The music itself is
also significantly different from that of CBL proper, which, according to the
musicians, was originally formed as a side project for just the two of them and
then became a full-time occupation — Notch sound more chilly and
transcendental, generally go easier on the bass and have a more New Age-like
feel on the whole. But still, the connection is more than obvious, and it is no
wonder that many «loose» discographies of CBL have this as their first entry,
so we might as well start our carbonated journey right here.
The
Path, self-produced and
self-released by this bunch of laborious Swedes, is no great shakes, but I'd
still rate it as a fairly accomplished and pleasant electronic experience for
background listening. Despite the length (and subsequent CBL releases would
only become longer) and the
relatively static nature of its tracks, it is surprisingly diverse, tempo-wise
and style-wise, and takes in about equal proportions from minimalistic ambient,
modern (or not so modern) classical, and various types of «soft» dance music.
Besides, they actually got a retro vibe going on: either it is the choice of
instrumentation or an intentional return to traditional analog-era harmonies or
both, but there are plenty of moments here that remind me of classic 1970s
electronics — Tangerine Dream, Klaus Schulze, Cluster, Bowie/Eno's Berlin
Trilogy, you know the drill. Something like that, instead of becoming yet
another bunch of Aphex Twin or Autechre clones.
A track like ʽRise To Tomorrowʼ would be quite
telling. Steamy industrial intro, mechanical vocal overdubs, psychedelic synth
clouds dripping acid droplets, out of which gradually emerges a simple, but
steady bassline and, one after another, several lead keyboard loops chasing
each other by the tail. Melody, complexity, atmosphere, the works. Something is lacking, though, to make
the whole thing properly «otherworldly»: the warp engines splutter and try to
kick in, but in the end, you get vague glimpses of a parallel universe without
being transported. Maybe it's because we know these recipes from past decades
all too well, and they have yet to learn how to add a secret ingredient that
would make you want to relive it all over again.
Likewise, ʽMachineryʼ, which spends its eight
minutes running on a busily rotating set of electronic pistons, does sound
like a working machine, but a very smooth, humble one — steam exhausted in the
background, piston running in the foreground, and tiny kaleidoscopic gurgling
taking place on a micro-scale. Never relenting, never stopping, never
experiencing any technical problems, just quietly doing its thing, whatever it
is, while you are either busy doing something else or trying, out of fun / curiosity
/ boredom (pick whichever you like), to adjust your brain pulse to the rhythm
so that you, Notch, and the universe can all tune in to the same wavelength.
(Didn't really do that much to my
brain, but maybe I'm just too old and cynical).
Sometimes they get almost too modern, though:
ʽLast Breathʼ is an exercise in trip-hop, with a croaky wah-wah synth line
making an «instrumental rap» bit on the side, and while I find the track
amusing on its own, it is somewhat out of place on a record like this,
especially when you find it jammed between the creepy chill of ʽContaminated
Areaʼ and the subliminal bass pulses of ʽStation Blueʼ. On the other hand...
diversity!
Anyway, what is really the most pleasing here is
the density of sound: for a couple (or even trio) of guys self-producing their
first record, The Path is exceptionally
rich in texture, right from the opening «quasi-orchestral» bit (ʽBehind The
Cornerʼ) and until the very last track. If you are a major electronica fan,
there's enough detail here, and endlessly shifting nuances, to keep you
occupied for a long time. If you're not, you probably won't be planning to
return to it any time soon, but even so, it is precisely this attention to
layering and nuancing that inconspicuously plants seeds of respect for The Path into one's mind. That said, I
will not succumb to the temptation of calling this «the lost CBL masterpiece»
or anything like that — the music's debts to its ancestors are way too huge,
and they wouldn't really start paying them off until the impressive, but still
inanimate Notch evolved into Carbon-Based Lifeforms.
And here I thought that my choice of music must look random to people around me...
ReplyDeleteFantastic, George! Very pleased (and genuinely surprised) to see you reviewing CBL. I feel that their second and third album (Hydroponic Garden and World Of Sleepers) are their peak, and what I've tried of the following works seem a touch less interesting, but nevertheless they are one of the better modern ambient groups. Very tasteful, pleasant, melodic and they're not afraid to use a 303. Awaiting the following reviews with great interest!
ReplyDeleteWorld Of Sleepers came out in 2006 which just seems too early... I let them keep on growing musically till the album Interloper in 2010 which in my opinion I consider their peak.
ReplyDelete