Posts Tagged ‘Ennio Morricone’

Slaughterback – 22nd August 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Dallas Kent might sound like a fictional cowboy, or possibly a made-up American town in a made-up state, but it’s actually the name bestowed upon the collaboration between London-based composer/producer Ian Williams (originally from Canterbury, Kent) and singer Crystal Brown (from Dallas, Texas). In that context, the moniker makes sense, of course.

As their bio explains, ‘It started in the late 2010s when Williams was looking for a singer to work with on some of his dark electronic pop songs, with Brown happening to live one street away from his studio in Hackney, East London… They swiftly recorded a considerable amount of material, but had to shelve the project when Brown relocated to the USA. The duo continued to discuss their options until finally, with Crystal settled in San Francisco and the pandemic giving everyone time to pause their normal lives, they decided to complete what they had begun so many years before.’

There’s no question that the pandemic changed a lot, if not, in some ways, everything. While many suffered with extreme alienation and the traumas of isolation and separation, it also forced a realisation of what was achievable, creatively, despite separation, and proved that the idea that ‘distance is no object’, which had long been embedded within the channels opened by The Internet was not merely a concept, but something which was more than simply a conceptual matter.

I suppose I realised this around the turn of the millennium, when I experienced something akin to a lockdown situation of sorts, albeit for very different reasons. I had relocated to Glasgow around Easter 2000 under difficult personal circumstances. I didn’t really know anyone. I was yet to make friends in my new job there. And I was so fucking broke I could barely afford to eat – a situation not particularly conducive to socialising and building new friendships. A friend I had known in York, who had subsequently moved to Sheffield, introduced me to Hole’s chatroom, and, stuck at home and unable to sleep, I found myself spending my nights online chatting to people from around the world at all hours, at least until, with dial-up Internet costing a penning a minute, I racked up a phone bill I couldn’t pay, and had my phone cut off. Then along came MySpace, and again, the possibilities for communication and collaboration across continents were immediately apparent. People who missed the age of the chatroom and MySpace were perhaps less predisposed to these potentialities, and consequently, the pandemic lockdowns hit them harder: they had to learn these things anew.

Anyway. This single entitled ‘Ghost Highway’, which, their bio tells us, ‘is redolent of Massive Attack and Ennio Morricone’ is the first fruits of their collaboration, ahead of ‘a full album that promises to be a mash-up of cinematic downtempo sounds, Americana, French disco and anything else they can throw into the mix.’

‘Ghost Higheway’ is very much a spacious trip-hop-influenced piece, with haunting vocals and a thick, dubby bass rolling low under a slow, deliberate, nod-along beat. Its magnificence lies in its sparse simplicity, and the fact it’s over almost as soon as it begins, and you find yourself yearning to delve deeper, to keep moving into this atmospheric world they’re presenting… it’s like the opening pages of mysterious, mystical novel, drawing you in and then…

The accompanying video is similarly compelling but without resolution: they describe it as ‘David Lynch-ian’ and explain how it was ‘filmed by Brown on her phone before being edited as psychedelically as possible by Williams.’

That they’ve kept this all in -house and simple and delivered something so compelling, so strong, is testament to their imagination and capacity for innovation, proving just how much can be achieved with minimal tech and over distance, given the drive and determination.

AA

37a5cb68f0cdad3a9a9e149ada8a125c052e391b2f9e5cde7010f1832fba7bd5751f2e8bee6f60fe

DALLAS KENT | Crystal Brown (photo by Ian Williams) & Ian Williams (photo by Damien de Blinkk)

Rocket Recordings – 22nd February 2019

Christopher Nosnibor

Evolution – that’s perhaps the only word when considering Teeth Of The Sea. Their career is defined by it.

Their BandCamp biography gives some sense of context: ‘Since their formation in 2006, London-based Teeth Of The Sea have metamorphosized into the most adventurous psychedelic rock outfit in the UK. Taking on board influences like Morricone, Eno, Delia Derbyshire, Goblin, and the Butthole Surfers, they’ve arrived at an incendiary sound that marries the aural enlightenment of an avant-garde sensibility with the reckless abandon of trashy rock & roll.’

It was with Your Mercury that I joined the trip, sold instantly by ‘The Ambassador’ with its overloading noise intro, spiralling into a slow-paced desert rock weird out.

Each release has been different again, and so there’s nothing of that ilk to be found on Wraith, an album that’s slanted more toward the electronic end of the spectrum, although the guitars, while far from prominent, are very much integral to the texture and depth. But this being Teeth of the Sea, it’s a bit of everything all at once, and this is apparent from the very first track: ‘I’d Rather, Jack’ brings a sonorous bass and droning synth together over a thumping industrial disco beat with crashing snare that stutters and glitches all over, before jazz trumpet and a space-rock guitar fire off on different trajectories. It’s rare for such a maelstrom of ideas and forms to whip together into anything other than a horrible mess, but Teeth of the Sea manage to blend the ingredients into something far greater than the sum of the parts, the atmosphere shifting from oppressive to uplifting.

There’s some of the old Ennio Morricone vibe about the spaghetti western sunset guitar twang of ‘Hiraeth’, before snaking drums and twisted allusions to Asian musical motifs was in and out of expansive layers of brass on ‘Burn of the Shieling’.

There are hints of Tangerine Dream and expansive synthy electronica about compositions like the buoyant, spacey, retro-futurist ‘VISITOR’ and ‘Gladiators Ready’, which combines the tweeky, bleepy Roland sound that echoes Josh Wink’s remixed ‘Higher State of Consciousness’ with some gritty guitar noise off in the background. Equally, the forms belong equally to post-rock, and whereas peers Vessels have gone all-out techno and ditched any vestiges of their origins, TOTS succeed in creating the most dazzling hybrid, discarding nothing and instead assimilating an ever-widening range of elements into their work. There’s so much detail in every bar, from blurred, muttering voices buried in the mix to synth incidentals and shifting reverbs that it’s impossible to take it all in, and oftentimes, Wraith is an overwhelming experience.

The centrepiece of ‘Her Wraith’ and brief counterpart ‘Wraiths in the Wall’ explore more minimalist approaches, the forms vague and vaporous, as echoing piano notes hang in the air over mournful trumpet. Pulling back on the prominent beats and instead allowing ponderous strolling basslines to wander to the fore, they’re as intangible as the album’s title suggests.

An album this eclectic and uncategorizable rarely feels cohesive, but Wraith feels more like a psychotic mind-journey than an album. And it’s nothing short of epic.

AA

Teeth of the Sea - Wraith