Sebastio Salgado’s grainy black & white cover photograph of a young boy,
hand raised to his teary face, framed by a stark field of plowed (or razed)
earth is an apt a metaphor for the harsh but beautiful music on this album.
The opening collaboration with Lil Gong (another 18 minute suite closes the
disc) sets the tone for an array of martial percussion overlaid with
discordant and plaintive synthesized strings. Or in the case of the remix
of “Adam’s Lullaby” co-written and featuring Natacha Atlas, the Prague
Symphony Orchestra (and the other co-writer, Jocelyn Pook.) The haunting
vocals complement the trip-hop beats and rich, deep melodies like fresh
white cream in bitter coffee, rising and falling through the darkness.
This is not party music, unless perhaps it’s the Bulgarian Communist Party.
But if you’re in the mood for some darkly-flavored atmospherics that aren’t
chilled so much as they are morgue-cold, slip this disc into the player.
Resist the temptation to skip forward to the King Britt/Marie
Daphene-penned 911 and let the beats propel you forward naturally. But
don’t be too hard on yourself if you return to it sooner than you thought
you would. Enjoy “The Rain Falling On Ann’s Grave,” she would want it that
way. Let “The Fury Of An Aroused Spectator” be yours. Give in to “The
Seduction of Canned Laughter.”.
If you haven’t already, that is..
