|Lucrecia Dalt — Anticlines (May 4, 2018)
Lucrecia Dalt — Anticlines (May 4, 2018)Location: Berlin, Germany
Album release: May 4, 2018
Record Label: RVNG INTL
Side A (33 RPM)
A1. Edge 3:45
A2. Altra 1:30
A3. Tar 4:40
A4. Atmospheres Touch 3:29
A5. Errors of Skin 3:39
Side B (33 RPM)
B1. Analogue Mountains 2:14
B2. Axis Excess 2:33
B3. Indifferent Universe 1:42
B4. Concentric Nothings 1:54
B5. Helio Tanz 1:44
B6. Glass Brain 3:09
B7. Liminalidad 2:33
B8. Eclipsed Subject 1:20
B9. Antiform 2:11
01. Edge 3:45
02. Altra 1:30
03. Tar 4:40
04. Atmospheres Touch 3:29
05. Errors of Skin 3:39
06. Analogue Mountains 2:14
07. Axis Excess 2:33
08. Indifferent Universe 1:42
09. Concentric Nothings 1:54
10. Helio Tanz 1:44
11. Glass Brain 3:09
12. Liminalidad 2:33
13. Eclipsed Subject 1:20
14. Antiform 2:11
15. Shergotite Rain (Bonus Track) 3:01
• With lyric booklet documenting Dalt’s collaborative work with Regina de Miguel and Henry Andersen alongside a multi~format digatal download code.
• Lucrecia Dalt’s Anticlines is a volume of bodily and geological substrates within poetic theory and sound. It is a place where skins and minerals dissolve and commingle, where gaseous subterranean leaks inflate lungs, where brain cavities echo interplanetary waves bent from passing through atmospheres.
• A former geotechnical engineer from Colombia currently residing in Berlin, Dalt’s concern with boundaries and edges shape the lyrics and music of Anticlines, her sixth album. Paying careful attention to pace, breath, and texture, Dalt microtonally shifts the distance between speech and song while using traditional South American rhythms to support her contemporary electronic composition.
• Lucrecia arrived at the atmosphere of Anticlines after several months of studying and creating new patches for the Clavia Nord Modular, forming a rhythmic feedback flow with it, a Moogerfooger MuRF, and her voice. The overall effect of cavernous space backdroping Dalt’s intimate vocal phrasing rewards contemplation, supported in the physical formats of Anticlines by a lyric booklet documenting Lucrecia’s collaboration with Australian artist Henry Andersen.
• The album opens with “Edge,” bordering on a pathological circlusion of self upon other. The lyrics depart from the Colombian myth of El Boraro, an Amazonian monster who turns its victims insides to pulp before sucking them dry and inflating their bodies like balloons to lifelessly float away. “Tar” ponders human dependence on earth at the boundary of the heliopause, where to inhale might be like breathing tar. Dalt’s distant and obscured vocals end with, “we touched only as atmospheres touch.”
• The sonic rise and fall of “Analogue Mountains” is inspired by martian traces found in Antarctica embedded by meteorite ALH84001, suggesting that “we might well be living in mountains transferred from Mars.” The steadily winding music on “Concentric Nothings” descends with the lyrical exercise of dissolution “let my touch be indistinct and instinctive.”
• Interspersed with the lyrical pieces of Anticlines are instrumental interstitials that demonstrate preceding concepts — as if to say, “this is what antiforms sound like, and this is what the universe’s indifference sounds like.” Dalt’s ongoing experiments with visual artist Regina de Miguel support these ideas, their practice allowing the objects of their attention to slip in and out of being.
• Mystic of matter, Lucrecia Dalt has previously performed and worked with Julia Holter and Gudrun Gut, her slippery spoken word and performative nature recalling the work of Laurie Anderson, Robert Ashley, Asmus Tietchens, or Lena Platonos. While touching stones, The Thing by Dylan Trigg, Cascade Experiment by Alice Fulton, and Wretched of the Screen by Hito Steyerl are but a few formative scripts that support Dalt’s exploration of the betwixt and between.
• In preparing a live set for Anticlines, Dalt plans to stage an uninterrupted configuration, like a kind of alienated lecture, aiming for “gestures that create tensions with non~existent objects.” Dalt intends “to provide meaning and a place for the listener to meditate or relate to the concerns and ideas” she presents.
• Lucrecia Dalt’s Anticlines is available May 4, 2018 on LP, CD, and digital formats. The LP and CD versions include a lyric booklet documenting Dalt’s collaborative work with Regina de Miguel and Henry Andersen. The album artwork was designed by Will Work for Good with photographs by de Miguel. An early artist edition will be available at MoMA PS1 and Other Music’s Come Together: Music Festival and Label Market on March 24, 2018.
• Lucrecia Dalt’s Anticlines is a volume of poetic theory and sound contemplating the bodies of self above and beneath the earth’s surface. On Anticlines, Dalt conjures a sonic space of speculative synthesis and spoken word where South American rhythms rattle contemporary composition recalling Laurie Anderson, Robert Ashley, and Annea Lockwood. LP / CD version comes with lyric booklet documenting Dalt’s collaborative work with Regina de Miguel and Henry Andersen alongside a multi-format digital download code.
• A portion of the proceeds from your purchase will be charitably designated on behalf of Lucrecia Dalt to Tierra Digna, an organization dedicated to the defense of Colombian communities affected by economic policies that violate human rights and devastate the environment. tierradigna.org Come! Mend!
by Philip Sherburne, May 4 2018. Score: 8.0
• Lucrecia Dalt’s sixth album is a marvelous exploration of mercurial ambient music whose aesthetic is so singular, it feels like she dreamed it into being.
• Over the past decade, the albums of Colombian musician Lucrecia Dalt have moved steadily away from playfully experimental indie pop into increasingly deeper levels of abstraction. There was a marked shift between 2009’s tuneful Congost — released under a previous alias, the Sound of Lucrecia — and 2012’s murkier Commotus, whose abiding sense of mystery recalled Argentina’s Juana Molina. By 2013’s more electronic Syzygy, her songwriting began to feel like it was tracing the shape of overgrown ruins; melodies jutted to the surface only to be subsumed again in drifting synths and thickets of reverb.
• On Anticlines, her sixth album, the former geotechnical engineer’s metamorphosis is complete. Anticlines takes the scraped drones and ethereal tone clusters of 2015’s Ou and distills them into cryptic miniatures reminiscent of the spectral frequencies summoned decades ago by Daphne Oram, of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. The palette is suggestive of rubbed wineglass rims, faraway theremins, fields of crickets; it is punctuated by small, dissonant explosions of what might be guitar or a plaintive pump organ. Silence yawns: “Concentric Nothings” is fashioned out of what sounds like a quarter spinning to rest on the floor of a vast, empty chamber, while “Axis Excess” isolates a sound that could be stalactites dripping. The beats, when they occur, are slow, metallic pulses loosely rooted in coldwave and industrial music, though that link feels more like an accidental byproduct of her electronic tools than anything she might have intended. Nothing about Anticlines could be construed as a genre exercise. Quite the opposite: The album’s aesthetic is so singular that it feels like something she has dreamed into being.
• Anticlines would be fascinating enough had she left it at that: an exploration of strange, mercurial ambient music with a mind of its own. But what makes this a truly special record is its vocal dimension. A world away from her singing style on previous albums, Dalt’s performance here combines captivating spoken~word passages with subtle vocal processing that sounds like the product of a chromed larynx. Just six of the album’s 14 tracks foreground vocals, but they comprise the record’s emotional and conceptual core. Her lyrics draw upon the language of geoscience and quantum physics — “Glass Brain” nods to the Boltzmann brain paradox, the theory that the universe might be a self~aware system — to unpack metaphysical questions about the nature of being. Those queries double as ruminations on the poetics of boundaries and the limits of communication itself. “Could it be found in errors of skin/Could it be found in gardens of dust,” she asks in “Errors of Skin,” seeking the secret of existence in a concatenation of things (“masses of big,” “leanings of self,” “multiples of stupor”) whose curious grammar suggests the divine hand of an artificial intelligence.
• On the opening “Edge,” she speaks from the perspective of el Boraro, a mythological beast said to suck out his victims’ insides and then, blowing through a hole he has pierced in the tops of their skulls, fill them full of air and send them on their way. There’s so much going on here that it’s almost dizzying. There’s the clinical nature of her musing, which is something like the opposite of body horror (“What does the body want except to pass blood through tiny vessels and keep the whole shape intact?”). There’s the unmistakably erotic tenor of the way she enters her interlocutor, pressing against “the inside of your navel, the slippery side of your throat.” And then there’s the sound of her voice itself: a strange, zig~zagging sing~song at once reassuring and unsettling.
• There are hints of Laurie Anderson’s incantatory style in her measured tone, but Dalt’s diction is unique. Rushing and slowing unexpectedly, her voice moves like eddying floodwaters seeking a vacuum to fill. In the background, hard~panned clusters of tones sound more like pools of light than notes; a high whine could be air escaping from a leak. The album’s title refers to a kind of geological formation, but Anticlines has more in keeping with the properties of matter as it shifts from liquid to gas and back: It’s an album full of interstitial forms that flicker in between fixed states, and its magic lies in that liminal no~man’s~land. • https://pitchfork.com/
|Lucrecia Dalt — Anticlines (May 4, 2018)