The North Sea The North SeaBloodlines
7.8 / 10
- Artista: The North Sea,
The summer has arrived, and with it, the summer’s oilier manifestations. For those of you who detest sunscreen and the adipose tissue that is displayed on beaches and in London’s parks with sketchy aesthetic taste, here you have the album that will give you back your faith in the world. The perfect record to put an end to the summer, on the first day of July. It’s Brad Rose’s new work as The North Sea. For those of you who don’t know this little angel, you only need to know that Rose is head of the Digitalis recording company, as well as the editor of the webzine Foxy Digitalis, where you can find everything from a critique of Oneotrix Point Never’s new album to a review of the latest, inevitable 70s Afrobeat compilation. I imagine that when the night falls, even better in November, Brad Rose shuts himself up in his studio to abandon himself to his onanistic pleasures –which, unlike the rest of the mortal world, sound like phantasmagoric noise. The North Sea presents us with a treatise on concentrated nihilism consisting of twisted beats that find their perfect counterpoint in the drummer from Zelienople, Mike Weis. “Bloodlines” is a tortuous path to the heart of the most straightforward noise made up of drones as dense as all of the suntan lotion used by an average family in two weeks on the beach at Alicante. And all of this on an arty label like Type, which for some time has been proving itself to be the one of the most active on the experimental circuit, and one of those that best knows how to profit from the promotional potential of the Soundcloud network. In fact, you can have the harrowing experience of listening to the album here.
If you hit play, you will see that “Bloodlines” vaguely reminds one of Throbbing Gristle’s gutsier works, and the first digital experiments of the less accommodating punk wave that appeared in the early 80s. Especially on the second part of the album, because the first section of this nightmare experience gives us a certain amount of room, with more cosmic or space sequences. The first songs, “Bloodlines”, “Missed Court Dates”, “Acquiesce” and “Reunion” will be the ones that you can listen to with your friend (forget about the rest of it, if you don’t want them to start looking at you funny). At times, these first tracks evoke 50s terror films (the ones where creeping danger is imminent, and always latent). As the album unfolds through a fairly marked narrative structure, Brad Rose submerges us in a real sound chaos that one senses is well orchestrated. It seems that there are still albums that tell stories. Unlike many other authors, Rose concerns himself with this narrative that needs the album format to be able to survive in these times of random music. This is a resource that makes the album perhaps even more interesting. Like good film directors, Rose knows how to play expertly with the calm and the storm, and is always attentive to the anticipation that serves him as a compositional compass. He enjoys like no one else creating different spaces that draw in the experienced listener, the one who isn’t afraid of setting the hot-dog stand at the beach on fire. That’s the other psychedelic that has nothing to do with the cosmos. It has more to do with hell, and a wall of sound.