A dream team for drone fans, electronic tweakers Tim Hecker and Daniel Lopatin (AKA Oneohtrix Point Never) come together for a collaboration of improvised electronic jazz. While a joint-effort from sound manipulators as capable as the pair promises something of a Watch the Drone, the record meanders structurally and there is an aura of self-indulgence about the whole affair.
In theory, there’s something primitively appealing about free-form improvisational music, but while jazz improv compliments the talent of the musicians involved, opening track Uptown Psychedelia merely showcases some hedonistic knob twiddling and a sporadic digital sitar. While there is something moody and serene behind it all, Instrumental Tourist‘s initial lack of structure never fully forms. The melodica infused Scene From a French Zoo sees the pair counterpoint each other effectively and settle into the digitally-sourced instruments at their disposal; nothing goes untouched. The choral undertones of Vaccination for Thomas Mann sit on an immersive sound as the collaboration gels nicely, but the duo never quite dig deeper and apply themselves.
Intrusions lives up to its name with creaks and harsh slashes of sterility alongside squalls of fuzz while Whole Earth Tascam adds the first straightforward vocalisations of the record flanking some off-kilter droning. It’s an interesting sound but ultimately ill-fated; like a lot of improvisational jazz, it never builds into anything. On GRM Blue II & III, the duo descend into mindless self-indulgence that sees them embrace casiotones, synths and possibly a harpsichord, capturing the feeling of picking up of an instrument for the first time and playing it badly (stabs of feedback and all). Structurally, drone is never overly simplistic but the free-form element here doesn’t work.
The intriguingly titled Racist Drone harks back to some of Lopatin’s most decadent work, with swirls of ambient synthetic noise fluttering in and out. It’s the albums Heart of Darkness, and sees the pair deviate towards their early careers. The delicate choral patterns of Grey Geisha result in the best track on the record in terms of building towards something, but unfortunately this isn’t capitalised on.
An assemblage of final tracks mould into one and revert back to earlier fiddling but at least it’s more cohesive and less spontaneous in its purpose. If the pair can hone this improvisational sound structurally, it could result in a boundary breaking new project.
