Sunday 19 February 2012

The 2kDozen 500: #68 - John Talabot, "Fin"

Nice oily beginning. All spooky, misty jungle choirs and polyparanoiac gunfire in Eighties films about Colombian druglords. And those laughing parrots. And 808 handclaps. The cover also looks like a black oily fingerprint.

I've been hoping to hear this album for a wee while. I liked the sound of the jib I heard described in articles about the Catalan man.

"El Oeste" and "Oro y Sangre" could soundtrack a great 8-bit Western. I can see the giant pixels of Monument Valley now, basking in a glorious bloody two-colour sunset. The first is slow and impressively mushy and cloud-bound. The second is more cheerful VHS territory, even beginning with a schlocky video nasty scream.



I'm struck by a strange sensation of a mumbling robot Kriss Kross at the beginning of "Missing You", telling me in their tiny voices that they'll make me "Jump! Jump!". Some robot warbling kicks in and a tensile snap of an elastic bassline. Sleek and appetising stuff. I imagine myself in some seriously swanky urban, ocean-side bar. Like in an imaginary SuperPorto. Where the port flows like wine.

"Last Land" has a lovely, warm party feel, a chopped-up samba party made into a good vibes smoothie. A happy wee voice bobs about in the mix. This is the second time I've thought about little voices. "Estiu" has them dancing around big disco machines as well. I suppose that is the scale of it. These disco machines have glinting, laser-planed edges on them too, whirring balletically. It ends with a sensitive little bacon-y crackle.


There are no trite sounds on this album; it's all pretty fresh. Fresh to my ears at least. But it can also drift by before you've really starting listening. I'm back in that ocean-facing bar again. "When The Past Was Present" is bumping fists with House's early Gospel-soaked movements, shivering in an echo chamber. "So Will Be Now" also rolls around the same area, but with a more Depeche Mode feel. Music I could be persuaded to do Cocaerobics to. Provided I'd first dibs on the leotards.

Rating: Beach Party out of Record Collection

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