Jason Lescalleet - 'Electronic Music' (RRRecords)

The title of this, a record that I guess now would be classified under 'early Lescalleet', is deceptively simple. For all recorded music is electronic, and there's surely meant to be a tongue-in-cheek sense of that meaningless descriptor being applied here. The electronics presented here were (I assume) designed and performed by Mr. Lescalleet, and across four tracks he shapes their possibilities into compositions that come to blossom slowly, expanding with cinematic flourishes. This is heard probably most evidently on 'Litmus Tape', the second track, which builds off the static bristles of the opening cut, but introduces a shifting, tonal echo that comes and goes, providing just enough narrative to serve as a central guiding principle. This track recalls third-album Labradford in some way, which is probably the only piece I've heard from Lescalleet that I would compare to them, or anyone else on the Kranky roster. Side two on this beautiful, marbled grey vinyl record begins with the most minimal piece, 'Accidental - Oriental'. This demands intense focus, and it's easy to let the mind wander while waiting for the slow, increasing presence of flickering square waves or whatever electronic sources make up this work. It eventually coalesces into a roar, a hell of a roar actually, one that really shows the full dynamic range of vinyl as it moves between nothing and something so fully over the course of about seven minutes. But it doesn't explode, nor does it seek a cheap soft-loud effect; it just grows and evolves, and then goes away just when I'm about to turn the volume down because the windows are about to shake. This is a hint of the pyrotechnics to come on the last track, 'Beautiful Whore', where the lurching, discordant electronics that are present in much of his other work come to the forfront. Despite the deep-listening lay down of Electronic Music, the tools and palette make him a closer fit to the 'noise' underground, and I'm not just saying that cause this is on RRR and because of the transgressive titling of that track; there's a sense of raw energy here, even though most of the record is quiet, that Lescalleet manages to turn inward and make into something different than a typical amped up banger. The cover art of this record has always greatly influenced my listening of it, and I'm nt sure why. Perhaps the porcelain plate is a good representation of the brittle, carved in fire nature of the sound here; perhaps the bespoke detailing on its rim is an echo of the careful considerations put into Electronic Music's assemblage. Or maybe it's just a nice plate that he saw somewhere and thought looked good. 

Arti e Mestieri - 'Tilt' (Cramps)

Funny how my entire accumulation of Cramps-label Italian prog pretty much resides on one shelf, in the Ar section specifically. Arti and Mestieri's debut LP looked like a sure thing when I stumbled across it - great Crampsy sleeve design with that pop art-cum-Futurist feel, lots of Italian names I didn't recognize, and the presence of a Mellotron. I was probably expecting something as far out and fucked up as Area's most adventurous records, but instead I got a gentle, pop side of jazz/rock fusion. There's a smoother feel, more focus on strings and horns, and a textural quality that sits well like an after-dinner mint. 'Gravità 9,81' opens the album and sets the pace with its hot saxophone solo over bouncy bass guitar riffs. Yes, this is fusion - perhaps the "dark side of fusion", a term which refers not to the sonorities expressed through the music but rather as a judgement of taste. My own tastes tend to have a weakness for grilled cheese sandwiches, if prepared on a George Foreman, ya follow? This is more of a Jaffle maker approach, though there's a few biting electric guitar solos and chiming, "sunrise" moments that pack a bit of punch. 'In Cammamino' has a breakdown that reminds me of the kind of live band you'd see playing in a New York department store for free, at lunch time, during the Christmas shopping season in the 1950s. It immediately dips back into electric piano jerkoffs and slightly-Seinfeldian bass slaps, creating an unintentionally hilarious effect. I'm not that sold on this record and it's probably been in my vinyl accumulation for so long because of a) the cover art, b) the Cramps label 'cred' and c) these few nice juxtapositions. Not to mention that my accumulation was in storage for a few years, so there ya go. The big 13-minute 'Articolazioni' has that National Health vibe, with cleaner violins (or is it a viola?) but even through it's own busy-ass drumming and slow chordal ascension it feels like 'more of the same'.