For those who can't quite make out the characters on the classy looking cover the name of the album from Belfast musician and sound artist James Joys is Glyphic Bloom. I'm not sure what it means but it seems to be a perfect title; the music within starts out glyphic and litreally blooms before your ears into something of rare beauty.
In eight relatively short tracks Joys covers a huge amount of ground. The album ends up very different to how it starts, surprisingly so. Beginning with ambient sound effects, moving through industrial dance beats and ending in song, it's no mean feat to pull off such a work of interesting sounds and apparently disparate styles whilst maintaining a thematic continuity.
Sound effects knit tracks together. So a child's voice ends one piece, and then reappears early in the next piece. Static and glitch are never far away, and the sound of rain adds atmosphere more than once. But the one constant thread throughout is the amazing sound production which renders Joys' vision in stunningly vivid audio clarity. Put this pot-pourri of sounds through some good speakers or earphones and the sonic depth is astounding. Each crack, snap and pop is audible such that even a pin drop can be heard over a background of industrial clattering.
The album starts with heavily processed sawing strings that sound like bees. Then rips and tears echo through your head in sudden bursts of electricity. A new listener may assume (as I did) the whole album would be of such glyphic sound effects. But the avant garde soundscapes subtly settle into a form as beats gradually become more regular.
This blooming towards a recognisable structure occurs through standout track Land's End. An ominous organ hum builds over a slow beat which struggles to get going with thunderous rain in the background, ending with an empty eerie squeaky swing in an abandoned urban playground. The momentum has started to build and it's more fully realised in the following track which feels like the centrepiece of the album; Subterranean, which like Land's End builds its beats gradually, faster and faster, layer upon layer, louder and louder, eventually reaching full on rave mode. A 9-minute epic from the Autechre/Aphex Twin school, yet there is so much going on in this track that it seems longer.
Half way through the record the most surprising thing happens... a stuttering guitar arpeggio ushers in lush mellotron chords, and a deep and sonorous vocal in the gorgeous The Face You Don't Recognise. The amazing thing to me is that it doesn't sound out of place.
Furthermore the album finishes with an ingenious off beat slow waltz with beautiful singing that gives a hint of Joys' new choral work about to be released. The deceptively simple structure belies the depth in the mix - off beat rhythms, children crying, cracks and hums, and that rain again. Who's That Creeping Overhead? is an almost religious experience, like the best of John Tavener's works. It's one of the most beautiful tracks I've heard in a long while - a stunning and unexpected end to an early contender for my album of the year.
In eight relatively short tracks Joys covers a huge amount of ground. The album ends up very different to how it starts, surprisingly so. Beginning with ambient sound effects, moving through industrial dance beats and ending in song, it's no mean feat to pull off such a work of interesting sounds and apparently disparate styles whilst maintaining a thematic continuity.
Sound effects knit tracks together. So a child's voice ends one piece, and then reappears early in the next piece. Static and glitch are never far away, and the sound of rain adds atmosphere more than once. But the one constant thread throughout is the amazing sound production which renders Joys' vision in stunningly vivid audio clarity. Put this pot-pourri of sounds through some good speakers or earphones and the sonic depth is astounding. Each crack, snap and pop is audible such that even a pin drop can be heard over a background of industrial clattering.
It constantly makes you stop and ask "what's that?" - several times I'm startled and look around as I hear (or sense) something I'm unaccustomed to on a record, or anywhere else for that matter. In the end, like the best music or art generally, you just accept the overall aesthetic and let the experience wash over you - it becomes what you want it to be, and in my case it makes me feel like I'm being taken on a journey across a landscape under heavy grey skies, along rivers, into caves, through iron doors and concrete jungles.
I'm not quite sure how he did it but the instrument list reveals an array of field recordings and "found" sounds which give a clue:
James Joys: oboes, clarinets, pianos, synths, oscillator lunchbox, zither, recorders, guitars, laptops, body sounds, twigs, branches, bones, stones, bridges, rivers, rain, fire, mbira, vocals, percussion, bells, SU10, car parks, subways, and tunnels.
One more thing. It's important to note with music like this that the sound effects and samples can so easily overshadow everything else. Here Joys has brilliantly crafted a highly original album that combines amazing sound with beautiful music. Everything has been meticulously placed - there is n't too little, or, more importantly, too much. Every sound has its place yet fuses together to form something where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. It's an album that should be heard in one sitting from start to finish.
I'm not quite sure how he did it but the instrument list reveals an array of field recordings and "found" sounds which give a clue:
James Joys: oboes, clarinets, pianos, synths, oscillator lunchbox, zither, recorders, guitars, laptops, body sounds, twigs, branches, bones, stones, bridges, rivers, rain, fire, mbira, vocals, percussion, bells, SU10, car parks, subways, and tunnels.
One more thing. It's important to note with music like this that the sound effects and samples can so easily overshadow everything else. Here Joys has brilliantly crafted a highly original album that combines amazing sound with beautiful music. Everything has been meticulously placed - there is n't too little, or, more importantly, too much. Every sound has its place yet fuses together to form something where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. It's an album that should be heard in one sitting from start to finish.
This blooming towards a recognisable structure occurs through standout track Land's End. An ominous organ hum builds over a slow beat which struggles to get going with thunderous rain in the background, ending with an empty eerie squeaky swing in an abandoned urban playground. The momentum has started to build and it's more fully realised in the following track which feels like the centrepiece of the album; Subterranean, which like Land's End builds its beats gradually, faster and faster, layer upon layer, louder and louder, eventually reaching full on rave mode. A 9-minute epic from the Autechre/Aphex Twin school, yet there is so much going on in this track that it seems longer.
Half way through the record the most surprising thing happens... a stuttering guitar arpeggio ushers in lush mellotron chords, and a deep and sonorous vocal in the gorgeous The Face You Don't Recognise. The amazing thing to me is that it doesn't sound out of place.
Furthermore the album finishes with an ingenious off beat slow waltz with beautiful singing that gives a hint of Joys' new choral work about to be released. The deceptively simple structure belies the depth in the mix - off beat rhythms, children crying, cracks and hums, and that rain again. Who's That Creeping Overhead? is an almost religious experience, like the best of John Tavener's works. It's one of the most beautiful tracks I've heard in a long while - a stunning and unexpected end to an early contender for my album of the year.