Menu

Ensemble Economique

a4074868154_16

Naked Island (Peak Oil, 2017)

, , , ,

This is the debut effort from the duo of Ensemble Economique’s tirelessly prolific Brian Pyle and Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier’s Félicia Atkinson and it is a great one. Consisting of two very different long-form pieces, Naked Island offers up a beguiling and hallucinatory mélange of breathy spoken word, dreamy synth drones, clattering percussion workouts, blown-out shoegaze bliss, and spacey abstraction.

The first side of this record is consumed by the ambitiously titled “Deep, Transcendent Waves of Golden Light,” which opens in a dreamlike reverie, as Atkinson whispers in French over a bed of retro-futurist synth drones. Gradually, however, a muted techno thump fades in and the piece begins to cohere into something more structured and propulsive. 

In a general sense, “Waves” has a lot in common with Pyle’s recent Ensemble Economique work, as the sizzling, spacey swells are soon bolstered by lush, Romantic, and goth-y synth chords, hallucinatory studio tweaking, and some buried, yet tormented, guitar-like moans. As much as I enjoy all of that stuff normally, it is presented in a much more effective way on this album than it has been on some of Pyle’s solo works. I have no idea if Atkinson is responsible for the wise addition of the lively, thumping pulse, but her sensuous vocals are most definitely a welcome addition to Pyle’s bleary, melancholy strain of psychedelia.

The album’s second side is similarly excellent, as “Play it as it Lays” is built upon a wonderfully clattering and dynamic drum beat that is a strong enough hook to carry the entire piece by itself. Perhaps realizing this, Pyle and Atkinson opted for far more amorphous/vaporous musical accompaniment this time around, dispensing with words or any kind of prominent chord progression. Instead, the duo embellish their rolling percussion with a shifting organ drone, hazy swells of wordless vocals, and a shimmering nimbus of peripheral mindfuckery. Gradually, however, the drums are overtaken by the accumulating washes of burbling and shimmering synths and floating vocals, leading to a lovely and vibrant coda of shapeless, oceanic bliss and buried, roiling noise.

The sole criticism that I can muster is that Naked Island sounds a lot more like a great Ensemble Economique album than something completely new and different, though I am perfectly fine with that state of affairs. Aside from her vocals on “Deep, Transcendent Waves,” it is difficult to tell exactly where Atkinson’s influence manifests itself, as her solo work is primarily a somewhat chameleonic strain of layered, phantasmagoric experimentalism. 

It is probably safe to say that her presence is responsible for the heightened druggy weirdness swirling around the more structured bits, but whatever she did seems to have brought out the best in both her and Pyle. For one, both pieces are beautifully constructed compositions that maintain a pleasant momentum and achieve a satisfying dynamic arc. Secondly, this album is an unusually warm and human one, as far as fringe-y abstract experimentalism goes. I am not sure if I would state that Naked Island is definitely a career zenith for either Pyle or Atkinson, but a strong case could certainly be made, as this is an absolutely essential release for fans of either.

Listen here.

a1428347289_16

Ensemble Economique, “Melt Into Nothing” (Denovali, 2014)

, ,

Although I absolutely loved 2011’s Crossing the Pass, By Torchlight album, I had a hard time keeping up with the flood of divergent releases Brian Pyle has unleashed over the last year or so. As far as I can tell, however, Melt Into Nothing continues along Fever Logic‘s path towards darkwave and ’80s goth, which is a very curious move. As noted by Denovali, that arguably makes this Pyle’s most accessible album, but only because it has some vocals and occupies a niche that some people are interested in right now. In a broader sense, however, I think Brian’s weirder, more abstract material is much more attention-grabbing and rewarding than any of the mostly forgotten bands that he is paying homage to here. That said, Pyle is not one to go for mere pastiche and he still managed to strikes gold with at least one piece.

That one unquestionable success, “Your Lips Against Mine,” conveniently opens the album. In a broad sense, it is not terribly different from the rest of the album, approximating a dreamy/hazy/shoegazy take on melancholy 4AD-style goth pop, but the presence of guests DenMother and Sophia Hamadi make a dramatic difference hook-wise. DenMother’s soft vocals, for example, imbue the piece with a very sensuous (if bleary) Romanticism, while Sophia Hamadi’s burbling, ascending synth motif gives the piece a propulsive sense of forward motion. In fact, if Pyle were completely absent, it would probably still be a perfectly enjoyable bit of synthpop heaven. Unsurprisingly, taking a good song and then Brian Pyle-ing the hell out of it seems to be an excellent recipe for success, but that first bit is generally missing for rest of the album. Pyle tends to work best when he has a collaborator or creative foil, as he does in his new Naked Islands project—he is definitely more of an idea man/studio wizard than a hit machine.

Unfortunately, Brian’s collaborators are generally absent for rest of Melt, which proves to be a bit exasperating: the textures and details are often quite wonderful, but they tend to be in service of pieces that sound like lesser bands from a ’90s Projekt compilation. For the most part, the remaining songs are a hookless array of near-instrumentals featuring plodding drum machine rhythms, funereal organs, echoing guitars, and a bleary haze of heavily processed vocals and subtly employed field recordings. 

“Fade For Miles” comes closest to being an actual song, as it features a comparatively upbeat groove and fairly prominent vocals, though Brian’s singing is too floating and hallucinatory to approximate anything like a melody or hook. There are some nice touches though, as the guitar moans sound wonderfully tortured and the drums unexpectedly become backwards near the end. I just wish there was more actual content to the song. “Make Out in the GDR” is another stand-out, bolstered by eerie female dialogue snippets, warped synth, and gnarled guitars. Again, however, it is far more of a stylistic triumph than a great song.

The remaining songs are all different flavors of “dirge,” though the woozy, narcotic guitars in “Hey Baby” constitute another minor album highlight. Ultimately, however, Melt Into Nothing is a somewhat disappointing and frustrating effort as whole, particularly after such a promising opening. I suppose Pyle’s goth pastiches are a bit better and more imaginative than most music in that vein, but they are not nearly as compelling as the better Ensemble Economique albums. Though this will probably appeal to some other people a lot more than it resonates with me, this no-man’s land between abstract experimentalism and retro-goth is not a particularly fertile place for Brian’s impressive talent to flourish.

Listen here.