Milieu

Stray Trains, by Milieu was recently released on Earstroke. Milieu’s work is generally quite warm and even pastoral (as I’m sure electronica fans would call it), and in this work we see him sharpening his creative talons somewhat: it’s well produced, the arrangements are well balanced, and Milieu retains originality whilst staying true to infleunces.

Stray Trains has moments when you hear something familiar: perhaps a little bit of early Warp, Boards of Canada, or a few brief moments of mainstream house or techno. Just as Milieu is drawing back the veil that hides his influences, however, he distracts us with something original that obscures the view of his creative inspiration. There’s an interview on his site where he mentions some of his influences:

Well the Pumpkins will always be my favorite, mainly because Corgan is such a fucking genius, and i really can’t better explain it.

Smokestacks has analogue-synth roots with a slightly distorted bass drum, interesting old skool Roland percussion, and then modulation of the bass drum and backwards kicks that feel quite unique. It’s a good track, and like the rest, not overdrawn. Milieu doesn’t feel the need to overburden us with repetition, or any particular mood. Playground Memories, for instance, seems solemn at first, but quickly diverges into something warm and whimsical.

As Stray Trains draws to a close, with Motorbike Trail and Drain, things become more retrospective. Interestingly, Drain is credited with “Milieu + Meadows & Labyrinths”.

By the way, I hope you’re not confused about the name: I’m not Milieu!

Short but sweet, Lament of the fishing robot - Makunouchi Bento, released on Camomille, is 10 minutes of contemporary forays between influences and ideas. The label’s introduction states:

On this ep they explore more cinematic themes; as you listen to the ep, you feel like you’re following a script of tones and waves. A somewhat liquid combat between winter-time coldness and atmospheres filled of awkward beauty.

and it’s true, the EP does have a certain narrative quality that sustains throughout its duration. Makunouchi Bento has the ability to give ideas the floor, and then let them spin off in their own directions, casting shards of sound and melody that often conflict, yet maintain a consistent voice throughout. This chromaticism upon cadence features prominently on each track, along with subtle uses of glitching sounds and effects.

Sometimes, especially in Boat just Beginning to Leaf, I feel as if Makunouchi Bento has picked up ideas from diverse world cinema or perhaps French contemporary music, but I can never quite track his influences. Lament of the Fishing Robot is the most emotive track on the EP, starting in a very dense and heavy manner, slowly unfolding to reveal something much more delicate, perhaps introspective or ironic.

FAB - Please Don’t Move, released on Complementary Distribution, is three tracks of well produced, musical ambience that are worth downloading. The label is run by András Hargitai, who also owns Bitlab Records.

The first track, Please Don’t Move, is 24 minutes of slowly evolving ambience. It strays away from the feeling of “drone” pieces by using glitchy, bubbling effects, and introduces a creepy retrospective ambience towards the end; sounds cut in through the mid range, alternating between speakers, in a way that creates a tense atmosphere. And these sounds, that would usually seem warm out of context, are recast in a tepid but poignant backdrop.

The End of Christmas Silence I crawls into life with static that dissipates and recycles itself into various forms. Gaps in the static reveal an uplifting chord progression, that shies away from consciousness as soon as you focus upon it. The End of Christmas Silence II uses similar aesthetic colourings during the introduction, but quickly becomes a melodic piece - an excellent way to end the EP.

These emotive, slow and delicate ambient pieces are very welcome and present interesting juxtapositions between warm and cool timbres and feelings. The only thing that feels out of place is the cover! I expected to see something a little more slick, or perhaps photographic, like the Hippocamp guys use.

L’Arbre d’un Train, a new compilation out on Backtrack, is 21 tracks of some of the best electronica on the Internet - featuring many netlabel legends who have also found commercial success.

There’s an excellent contribution by 143, Goodbye Whisper, something that could quickly become the soundtrack to my Autumnal commutes through London. 143 blends noise, unusual percussion and sentimental melodies to produce something worth cherishing. Ambient fans will flock straight to Xerxes’ Lofi Beauty, another melancholic and somehow seasonal track I’ll be keeping on my mp3 player.

Grandma’s Holy Moon is something of an oddity; detuned, highly filtered synths blend with a meandering piano, eventually giving way to a sense of finality and rest. There’s another unusual gem, Nil’s Cha, that uses simple 8bit-style sounds, but with high quality production and solid song structure, reaching a superbly executed pinnacle towards the end.

Blisaed from Camomille, is back with Postcard Sent from a Plane Crash, in which he continues his unique approach found in his previous work, but yet improves upon it, making me look forward to his new material.

Insektr dovetails the compilation with An Encouragement Won’t Change Anything. If some of the previous tracks allude to Autumn, this nods towards Winter, but there is a touch of warmth at the end that makes me feel like perhaps the Winter won’t be so harsh this year.

If someone asks you, “what are netlabels?”, then play them L’Arbre d’un Train. As it stands, this is one of the best collections of material I’ve found this year, encompassing a broad range of electronica from many acclaimed artists.

Some may describe Vincent Bergeron’s music as eccentric, but I think this kind of generalisation misses the point. As I said in my review of Casse-tête de l’Existence, Vincent attempts to breakdown traditional song writing. This reminded me of William S. Burroughs, both in terms of aesthetic values and technique; and Vincent has continued this approach in L’Art du Désarroi (The Art of Distress), his new 6 track album available on CD, or in Ogg format. Choosing to use Ogg is a statement in itself, and in a way Vincent is demonstrating his understanding of issues inherent to digital audio distribution and how artists are currently attempting to tackle more than freedom of their intellectual property, but also the format of the artwork they create. The CD comes complete with words, images and instrumental versions of some of the tracks.

Vincent wrestles with many competing elements in L’Art du Désarroi, commenting on the chaotic mental processes of a creative mind. Just as the instrumentation is heavily edited and atonal, his voice takes on many different characters. In Dave and Drew Banned Art, for instance, he’s almost schizophrenic; the instrumentation jumps from various ethnic backgrounds, his vocals switch from a tone of mockery to listlessness and then sadness.

Somehow I never feel totally lost with Vincent’s music, the edits feel natural, and my poor understanding of French doesn’t prevent me from feeling the music on an emotional level. In L’Art du Désarroi, he has clearly developed his techniques since Casse-tête de l’Existence. In terms of layers of instrumentation, things are actually simpler, yet the tracks don’t feel stark or unsophisticated.

Introversion is the most “accessible” track on the L’Art du Désarroi, beginning with sublime classical guitar playing, to which synthesisers and brass instruments join in. The brass instruments appear to be mocking the more traditional melody that the guitar began with. I don’t know if Vincent intended this, but there is a sense of humour to it that I love.

If you download L’Art du Désarroi, prepare to be surprised. Go for a walk in your nearest town or city with it on your mp3 player, think about Van Gogh, Vincent and banned art.