Unsounds – 4th July 2025
Christopher Nosnibor
Oops. It seems I let things slide a bit. Just over two years ago, I provided coverage for the first ‘Handmade’ volume, and now, here we are, faced with the third instalment of a four-single series. And for those who mat be wondering, ‘A physical album of the collection will be released with volume 4’.
As the accompanying text outlines, ‘The Handmade series is an homage to craftsmanship through an exploration of the lexicons specific to traditional metiers. It unfolds over the course of 4 thematic volumes. With guest Yannis Kyriakides on electronics they create works where abstract notions mix with tangible ones by linking the arts of the hand with sound and poetry.’
Before we delve into the single’s two tracks, it’s worth relaying the contextual blurb, as it might as it might be to paraphrase, I always worry about missing something pivotal ad looking lame, so I prefer instead to lay it out as given: ‘Equipped with the “Method of Cutting and Assembling for Women’s Dresses, Children’s Clothes, Trousseau and Layette” by Mrs. G. Schérer, a work duly authorized and distributed in state normal schools and municipal schools at the end of the nineteenth century, Anne-James Chaton imagined a contemporary dance choreography in which « grand battement » and « pas chassé » were performed by following the instructions for the construction of a bodice with basques, a frock coat, a little boy’s jacket. Then he cuts, pleats and sews together a few letters of the alphabet – a, e, i, l, n, o, p, s, t, u – and writes a sentence that he borrows from the French poet Jean-Marie Gleize. In Tailles, the art of couture thus reveals its affinity with dance and literature.” Are you all on board?
Here, ‘The trio push the boundaries of traditional rock music incorporating spoken word, electronics with experimental angular guitar riffs to produce unconventional but infectious, beat driven music that embraces dissonance and distortion.’
And yes, a lot happens a mere nine and a bit minutes: ‘Pas De Danse’ for a start, being a dark stark whir and clank and chank and clatter of electronica which intimates an industrial edge. It’s the whipcrack of a vintage drum machine that provides the spine for ‘Pas de Danse’ – the sound of a Roland TR606 or thereabouts delivering a crisp, relentless snap that keeps metronomic time for a spoken word narrative, delivered in French, in a muttering monotone ., there are swipes of distortion and squalls of disruptive noise which interrupt this, intrude on the relentless swell of sound.
The five-minute ‘Ecrire un Phrase’ (that’s ‘write a sentence’ in translation) brings jagged drones shards odd angular noise – including shards of dissonant guitar reminiscent of Gang of Four. There’s something of a DAF vibe about this relentless, dissonant, drone attack.
Immediate it is not. Droney and difficult, it is. Just the way we like it.
