Rhetorical Islands opens with a steamy cloud of breathing vapour that could have originated from an ancient dinosaur, a feisty roar emanating out of the vents and out of your speakers in a toxic exhalation resurrected after millions of years. Discovered on an exotic island near Costa Rica, Giuseppe Ielasi’s music is a rare breed that’s spent a long time in the lab. Ielasi is ...(展开全部) Rhetorical Islands opens with a steamy cloud of breathing vapour that could have originated from an ancient dinosaur, a feisty roar emanating out of the vents and out of your speakers in a toxic exhalation resurrected after millions of years. Discovered on an exotic island near Costa Rica, Giuseppe Ielasi’s music is a rare breed that’s spent a long time in the lab. Ielasi is the architect of a Jurassic Park style of electronica, where a plethora of electronic frequencies and syncopated spinosaurus rhythms smash out of their cages, and any constrictions are left thoroughly destroyed like a crushed electrical fence laying on the rain-lashed asphalt. Only a debris of once-caged safety exists in front of the Jeeps carrying expensive tourists, and the pungent scent of burning cables are left trailing among black clouds of electrical smoke. Once you enter these gates, there’s no escape. Lagging behind an electronic, padded beat, Ielasi’s music circles repeatedly, almost crying out in a prehistoric tongue to be freed. The cycle changes and develops with every new rotation as the shrieking noise of the first track rises over a padded beat that should have been left in its jungle of a paddock. No enclosure can contain the experimental electronic frequencies as they stomp around the music as if let loose onto the streets of San Diego. You can hear this rhythmic intensity as early on as the third track, where a rhythm can’t wait to smash through in anticipation of the next attack. This rhythm seems to revolve around the air vents, caught up in the unannounced system shutdown, only for polyrhythms to lay above and underneath as another subtle presence of percussion. A hint of a deep drone tries to spark into life, but it can only flicker a dim light in its endless, higher frequency pitch that tries to restore some semblance of safety, despite the park being powerless. An emergency generator can be heard clanking and clicking, like a fail-safe turning onto standby after a power cut. It may keep the lights on, but only until someone’s brave enough to risk the outdoors. Rhetorical Islands is fixated on rhythm; in any other setting, anywhere else, it would be deemed unhealthy, but here in the world of music it allows for a focused session on the art of percussion and rhythmical movement. A propulsive intensity along with a fascinating curiosity turbo charges the record; these tracks are raw, manipulated beasts that stomp around the rain-forests and their enclosures. At times, they seem to stutter and slow down to a near crawl, but it’s only a breather for what is to come. Hi hats and deep thudding footsteps are enough to leave massive imprints in the ground, shuddering as if they were shimmering tiny concentric circles and leaving vibrations in a pool of water. Stuttering and glitching as if with a cracked code of DNA, these rhythms almost fail, only to pick up again and carry on. During the cycles, they almost seem to spin out of control and then crash into silence, returning only a ghost of what they once were. Giuseppe Ielasi is the cartographer of this electronic island, where exotic, prehistoric creatures are allowed to roam free, able to avoid the seismic fate that their brothers and sisters suffered. This kind of electronica substitutes success with near, heart-stopping failure in a never-ending cycle of rotation and controlled manipulation. Eventually, some strands of its former self may shed their skin, double up and create a new rhythmic sub-division; like dino DNA, this breakaway isn’t an original, authentic dinosaur, but it isn’t an animatronic either; it looks exactly like the real thing. Irregular intervals and alternating between left and right channels, the rhythms are like silent traffic lights that, if you look long enough, eventually line up in sync with each other, or perhaps they’re the red flashing beacons over a fence ripped apart. Treble-high, frenetic claws collide into one another as the tour progresses, despite the malfunctions. ‘05’ is a pretty princess that chirps away with thick, batting eyelashes and cute looks (yeah, even for a dinosaur), yet due to the predecessor’s nature, we’re never completely sure what lurks beneath the hood. Like the Dilophosaurus, aka the spitter, looks can be deceiving. In this instance, there isn’t a deadly attack in sight. Inside the enclosure, there are what sounds like exotic birds of rainbow colours that have long been extinct, but there’s nothing jurassic about Ielasi’s music; on the contrary, it sounds unbelievably fresh and alive. In fact, this might be the worrying thing. They sound almost too alive, as if they have a new mind of their own, with an intelligence as sharp as that raptor claw. Like a scene from a b-movie that feels too real to be imaginary, we hear hopping out of the oozing swamp a creature on rubbery legs, large eyes bulging and fixated onto yours. Primeval in nature and in appearance, this tone is a fat, bloated beast alive only to instinct and the relentless hunt for prey. It came from the swamp! This is one you don’t want to run into; bleeps and blips that are interspersed with a low, thundering tremor meaning one thing only – it’s a Tyrannosaurus Rex. The electricity’s cut and the pylons have been ripped out of the fence. A scaly, electronic swarm runs past at lightning speed, desperately running for their lives. The final track is fresh and breezy, but with a sinister undercurrent where we aren’t sure what the low frequency holds and where it’s hiding. Finally, everything runs into a climax as the screeching electronic velociraptor emerges from the leaves of the trees. Racing to the heliport at over 70mph, the tour car careers over and under the foliage, through the jungles and past the shattered wires, over the wide rivers and lakes in the ride of your life. You may have escaped, but then you remember that they hunt in packs… Just don’t play this when you’re down by the everglades; the very real dinosaurs of today may just reply. Even left completely to their own devices, these rhythms would eventually multiply in an outbreak that’s impossible to contain. It’s an island teeming with electronic life, and, as once said in the ruined park, “We’ve made living biological attractions so astounding that they’ll capture the imagination of the entire planet.” The same is true of these jurassic islands.
0 有用 aegnkl 2016-07-17 10:43:22
还可以吧
0 有用 aegnkl 2016-07-17 10:43:22
还可以吧