YELLOWKNIVES: ACID SUNRISE
[Brise-Cul Records]
Acid
Sunrise arrived in a nondescript package, without a press release, from
somewhere in the Northwest Territories, I think. I tried to listen to
it late at night but fell asleep right away and had horrible
repetitive, apocalyptic nightmares. Listening while awake is no picnic
either: strange time signatures preclude normal dancing, Cosmos 954 is
six minutes of static-laden droning, Somba K'e is like dog whistles
mixed with variable volume and distortion effects applied to the sound
of a CD skipping (it hurts). Nor can I stop listening; this shit is
like an arctic mindbath. Strong points include really dope bass kicks,
lack of any words or signifiers or thematic direction other than
drug-basted sweathouse insanity, and extreme scariness.
-Steve Lalla,
Hour (Montréal, Canada)
--
The
grass is always greener on the other side, and from this side Montreal
looks like a very vibrant city with lots of interesting musicians and
labels. The Brise-Cul Records is already active since 2001 and has
released a whole string of releases from all sorts of people. A new duo
are the Yellowknives, also from Montreal, and they are described as 'a
digital drone geek and a dubstep activist' and are called 'Montreal's
answer to Pan Sonic', which is understandable. Monotonous blocks of
rhythm, with the hissing of synthesizers to go along the trail. It
doesn't quite capture the grooves of Pan Sonic, to which people can be
spotted dancing, whereas the monolithic bass beat here is hardly a
groove, but more a bass thump - like the head nod music I wrote about
earlier on. Creepy stuff this is, with mean sounds, flying low over
like a cruise missile on a mission of certain destruction. Quite
underground and not the dance thing that it could have been, but I
believe that was never the aim anyway.
-Franz de Waard,
Vital Weekly (Nijmegen, Netherlands)
--
Des
jeux de textures et d'intensités graduées avec minutie. Du début
jusqu'à la fin, on a à faire à une longue tension générale, presque
sans références, seulement quelques textures sonores superposées
doucement de manière à garder une pression presque pénible sur
l'auditeur. C'est un album très minimal, très froid, lourd, et très
original ! Et bizarement, pour quelques chansons, c'est peut-être
l'album le plus dancable de Brise Cul.
-
La Musique du Pas Monde (Québec City, Canada)