vendredi 17 décembre 2010

IAN BODDY: Slide (2009)

Welcome to Ian Boddy's strange world. The founder of DiN label is to EM what Tim Burton is for cinema, the finest of contemporary art, with fantastic blinks of eye to outdated master works. Yet, Ian Boddy is far from being a novice on the EM scene. Slide is already his 16th solo album, him who realized works with Robert Rich, Mark Reuters and Mark Shreeve for the very Berlin School duet Arc.
Slide for sliding. But also for a music which flows on a slide guitar or rather on a slide synth. Slide is a superb album of an audacious music which will please as much the amateurs of contemporary music as the Berlin School style, because Ian Boddy transcends these 2 worlds with a surprising approach on unexpected paces and as limpid as rocks which steep torrents. Rhythms stuffed with a synth to legatos undulations which bewitch in a sound universe arched by the massive use of Martenot waves, composing the almost totality of an album with ethereal incantations. Yet it’s timidly that starts Slide with The Probability of Doubt and its Tibetan gongs. An ecclesiastical intro overhung by a slinky synth mellotron which strata marry the serenity of the moment. Layers which are made threatening of which spectral laments wave on an unbalanced tick-tock, matching a shyly tone of chains which accompanies the ghosts midnight-march. Pursuing this spectral approach Lost and Found begins with Martenot waves which act as ectoplasm lamentations on a structure which livens up with flickered cymbals and a synth with breaths of a sliding guitar under percussions sounding as guttural words, where harmonious phases skip with delight. When we speak of strangeness! Slide, the title track, begins on percussions which click as dragonfly wings on a slippery synth and a wavy-like bass. It’s a beautiful piece of music. Maybe the catchiest on the first listening with its ascent crescendo on spectral waves and its switching rhythm which embraces a soft techno. Quite delicious! Tourmaline is a wild running which begins in a good-humored way. A hyper nervous sequence draws a frenzied pace that a synth wraps with a morphic tenderness. But the rhythm persists and bursts out under a mellotron synth, with a kind of ear-worm melody, and a Berlin School rippling sequence torpedoed by heterogeneous sound effects, model after Ian Boddy's musical world. This is another very nice track that appeals as soon as the first measures strike the ears.
After the quiet A Moment of Gliss which spreads its Martenot waves such a gull trapped in wind turbulence, Yesterdays Memories drives us in the rhythmic universe of Arc with a good hesitating and heavy sequence, coupled with a feverish synth with hopping arpeggios. Arc atmospheric heaviness is present with its droning echoes that mask fine xylophoned percussions and technoid "tsitt-tsitt" cymbals which lurch such as spectral waves. Incidentally Yesterdays Memories is the beginning of a boiling musical section, showing the passion of unusual and innovative rhythms that lives within Ian Boddy. Builds in the same mould Mechamystical is however lighter, even with its heavy resonant percussions which fluctuate irregularly on a synth filled of apocalyptic waves. A synth which leaves its spectral side to offers good solos on a cadence that becomes more limpid. A little as on Troubadour who offers in return a more frenzied rhythm, beneath an avalanche of chords which tumble down towards a very lyrical and languishing synth. It’s a nervous track with a hiccupping rhythm and a heavy pulsation which oscillates between techno and disco, chewed by a slinger synth with spectral waves which spin innocently on a hammering rhythm. The Possibility of Existence is the calm after the rhythmic storm started by Yesterdays Memories. A beautiful ambient track where the spectral Martenot waves redo surfaces, the same as lamentations of fed and serene whales in the black blue of an ocean of tenderness. A wonderful way to conclude an opus superbly surprising which takes delight from the first to the last breath, with all of Ian Boddy's futuristic poetry. Slide is definitively an opus to get…if it’s not already done.

DiN 31
Sylvain Lupari (2009)
Cet article est disponible en Français sur le site de Guts of Darkness, dont je suis chroniqueur sous le nom de Phaedream:

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