|
|
July 2nd, 2006 by Jonathan Fletcher (Permalink)
Label: Matador Year: 2006 Add Comments |
Just fabulous. Matmos’ latest conceptual opus is a major triumph and an enormous return to form after the disappointments of ‘The Civil War’. Maybe the warped disco of Drew Daniel’s Soft Pink Truth have warped their sensibilities slightly or maybe it’s the philosophy behind the release but within its exquisitely packaged walls, ‘The Rose Has Teeth…’ marries the duo’s most intricate, detailed and varied sonic sources with their most accomplished musical flourishes.
For those not in the know, Matmos are an electronics duo who are driven by an equal concern for conceptuality as for music. Each album or individual piece is built upon the manipulated recordings of relevant sonic sources. ‘A Chance to Cut is a Chance to Cure’ for example took all its noises from the surgical instruments and detritus of a plastic surgery clinic. The obvious risk here, as with all conceptual art is for the music to be dwarfed by the idea and for gimmickry to run riot. Conceptualism straddles an extremely problematic aesthetic line always risking over-intellectualisation but if the artist does manage to achieve their intentions, extra layers of depth and resonance are the potential rewards. And to all our benefits, Matmos happen to be one seriously fucking inspired musical beast.
‘The Rose Has Teeth…’ then is a tribute album of sorts- 10 sonic portraits of Matmos heroes all linked by the twin peaks of (homo)sex(uality) and death. Opening with industrial thuds and a multi-voiced narrative (including frequent co-conspirator Bjork and Marcus Schmickler (known as Pluramon amongst others) reading lines from Wittgenstein which eventually erupt into volcanic guitar noise courtesy of J Lesser, the album moves through ‘tributes’ that range from would be Warhol assassin and arch-feminist Valerie Solanas, through gay disco god Larry Levine to ‘mad’ King Ludwig II of Bavaria. Some of the instruments on offer are burnt flesh, cow uterus, vacuum cleaner and (my favourite) whinging. On ‘Snails and Lasers for Patricia Highsmith’ the writer’s odd domestic obsession with snails is recapitulated in sound by letting our slimy friends break laser patterns which in turn generate a difference in tone on a Theremin. Do not take this for just art-school pranksterism though- these delights sound like nothing and nobody else. That they are so goddamned tuneful is enormous testament to the powers of the duo’s project.
The realisation is absolutely perfect throughout. Take ‘Rag for William S Burroughs’ which over 13 minutes sumptuously realises the narrative of Burroughs’ life. The opening rag is piano and distant trumpet over an overload of sparse electronics. Burroughs was born in the birthplace of rag in St Louis, Missouri. Then we hear the sound of a gunshot, bullet surreally slowed down until finally hitting its mark. Keys jangle (the author to be in jail), footsteps and the sound of a typewriter and the famous Burroughs adding machine. Its infamous history now of course but for those that don’t know, it was Burroughs accidental shooting of his wife Joan in a horrendous William Tell style accident that finally freed his artistic daemon whilst the royalties from the adding machine meant a lifelong financial arm from his estranged family. That money as J. G. Ballard has commented was probably the most wisely spent student grant of all time. The final sonic jigsaw piece comes with massed ranks of Joujoukan style horns- the sound of Morocco that contributed towards the final realisation of Interzone. Or, we have ‘Solo Buttons for Joe Meek’ which mixes massive surf guitar with strings played by Kronos Quartet providing a mixture of ebullience and resonant drama. Meek the sound genius fused trashy instrumentals with other worldly vocals and went on to create the masterful ‘I Hear a New World’ album, an exotic outer-space pop landscape record as inventive as it is curious. Meek came to a tragic end, a misunderstood master of noise, a gay man in a thoroughly unforgiving era who ended up shooting his landlady and then turning the gun on himself. It’s not all manic though. ‘Semen Song for James Bidgood’ unfurls a disembodied Antony Hegarty (of Johnsons fame) with delicate harp from Zeena Parkins alongside strings, toilet paper and semen in a heart-stoppingly beautiful homage to the underground photographer and filmmaker.
There can be no doubt that this will effortlessly be floating around the top of all those end of year polls but I guess this means fuck all anyway. What is important is to celebrate the vitality of these unstoppable electronic innovators. As I said at the beginning, a triumph.
[NB- Check out the website for a detailed exegesis of each piece.]
Purchase or search for related items:
