1) frane casual; 2) mirrage; 3) column thirteen; 4) shimripl casual; 5) all end.
General verdict: Two hours of almost nothing seems like a pretty natural conclusion to eight hours of nearly something, but that does not prevent it from sucking on the gut level.
I suppose that even Autechre can get tired from
a four-week residence at a radio station, because this is precisely what this final
two-hour marathon sounds like — tired and out of breath. With but five tracks
on it (and the fifth one quite a fraudulent one at that), the fourth volume
offers nothing by way of new ideas, except serving as a dutiful wrap-up for all
those who live on borrowed time and do not mind having it stretched like a
nylon hose because they got nothing better to do anyway than to listen to a
single sample looped for eternity.
So here is a quick runthrough. ʽFrane casualʼ
is fourteen minutes spent staring at a conveyor belt that splurges out the same
robotic part at regular intervals. ʽMirrageʼ is six minutes spent wading in the
early morning through a sticky nebula of electronic fog that looks, smells, and
feels exactly the same in any given direction. ʽColumn thirteenʼ is seventeen
minutes spent stuck in an alien elevator, with the friendly repair technicians
convinced, for some reason, that these seventeen minutes will be much better
spent with the muzak remaining on
rather than off. ʽShimripl casualʼ is twenty four minutes spent in a giant empty
refrigerator, breathing in dry ice clouds and staring at all the complex
sub-systems of blinking lights.
Finally, the magnum opus ʽall endʼ is one track which, I have to be honest, I
finally did not have the patience to experience from top to bottom — or perhaps
I did, but I might have fallen asleep near the beginning and woken up towards
the end of its fifty-eight minute running length. Yes, that is right: the thing
clocks in at 58:21, and you can get in, get out, get in again, get out again, get
up, get down, get with it, and get under it at any single particular moment:
most of the time it will just be an ocean of calm electronic noise, sometimes
quieter, sometimes louder, sometimes with the waves hissing and foaming,
sometimes with subtle undercurrents, but mostly about as consistent as any real
ocean with a quiet, stable breeze blowing over it. Chill!
Now, actually, all of these things kind of make
sense within the overall context of the NTS
Sessions. Since the basic idea behind all of them is to have more or less
the same fun that you do with Youtube videos when playing them at 0.25 speed,
it makes all the more sense to give the fans a special two-hour long goodbye,
just to make you properly savor and digest all the tiny microcell elements that
constitute a goodbye. Therefore, as far as multi-part artistic gestures go, I
have no problem with the album. But it goes without saying that getting it to
properly «register» is equally hard on its own or as part of the entire 8-hour
experience: where each of the previous sessions had at least occasional moments
that could grab my attention, this one is background electronic muzak that
makes a very good job at making you
treat it as such. If there are actually people in this world that are not doing chores while the session is
on, Jeff Lebowski promises to eat his heart out.
Concluding this entire sub-section, I must
stress once again the surprise at all the glowing reviews of the NTS Sessions — not that there were many
of them in the first place, since Autechre are long past the peak of their
fame, but most of those that did come out spent their digital space gushing at
the many wonders and thrills offered by the experience. Personally, I am just
not convinced that a semi-improvised eight-hour session by an aging avantgarde
electronic duo could be consistently wonderful and thrilling even theoretically
— though the first volume, as I have already written, did offer a somewhat
fresh and exciting take on the old formula. Perhaps it is all about the
ambitiousness: people, sometimes unknowingly, are so hungry for monumental artistic
feats these days that the mere introduction of a Gargantuan gesture like this
one gets them all aroused. Or perhaps Autechre have simply mutated into that particular
kind of dinosaur which only stimulate the aut
bene, aut nihil principle when people write about them.
Regardless, I have to state that NTS Sessions are a partial success on
the microlevel (there is still potential in the old formula) and a general
failure on the macrolevel — not only is the eight hour length no longer an
impressive feat of originality by itself (sure, the whole thing runs longer
than The Disintegration Loops, but
who really cares?), but I am afraid
that the entire «less is more» principle has ambiently hummed its last ambient hum
just as well. Other than a tiny bunch of niche fanatics, this kind of product
is not likely to appeal to anybody, and what once used to be a feat of free
thinking and artistic exploration has turned into a routine way of making a
living. Maybe I am dead wrong, and maybe, as one particularly gushing reviewer
wrote, "itʼs as if the preceding decades of work were acts of research
leading to that point". But to my mind, thatʼs like saying the same about
something like Tom Waitsʼ Bad As Me
— a good record that shows tremendous professionalism and maturity, but does
not tell us anything about Tom Waits and his badass attitudes that we have not
already learned decades ago. And really, with Autechre it is even more
confusing, because how exactly do you
rate and assess an Autechre record if you do not use originality of approach as
the single defining parameter? (The only way in which you could salvage
something like Confield, with its
obviously clear-cut departure from tradition that even the coarsest layman
could observe). I have no answer here, and I doubt anybody has — certainly
nobody, so far, who has ever written anything about them.
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