Lucy LucyWordplay For Working Bees
Total blackness. Quantic oscillations in the void. The universe expands and becomes colder. The album debut by Luca Mortellaro is no bed of roses. His venom is tormenting, paralysing, pure living rigor mortis for those who approach his cobweb without caution. Far from sticking to the grid of the 4x4, Lucy clings to an electronic cosmology that turns techno around in search of its most hidden face. Because it is techno, yes. But intellectualised, trapped in nitrogen, dissected like a frog in a lab and liquefied with dub, IDM and polar ambient.
Mortellaro delivers the most experimental and introspective record of his own label, the ever more acclaimed Stoboscopic Artefacts. With one eye on the Old Testament of Basic Channel and another on his infallible crystal ball, the German producer avoids the most obvious waves and takes his bathyscaphe down to the territory of the giant squid: very few dare to wander with two hundred atm pressure over their heads. Using a speech by Karlheinz Stockhausen on the disturbing opener “Thear”, Lucy makes it very clear that his mission isn’t so much to make us dance as it is to accelerate our synapses with a cerebral sound that generates mind states and draws impossible landscapes on our brains when we close our eyes.
Tracks like “Gas” put our nightmarish fantasies to the test with interferences, low frequencies and crackling dark electronics. “Torul” is an amorphous snake of broken rhythms and spatial freeze. “Es” tries to sink us in a state of mental floatation with a mantra of arctic IDM and phantasmagoric dub. The digital bubbling of “Mas” tickles your spinal chord like a diamond knife about to cut through the tissue. And the more dynamic creations are pure abstract craftsmanship as well: the apocalyptic techno-dub of “Eon” and the danceable spectrums of “Eis” leave no room for doubt. It’s impossible not to let oneself be seduced by the visionary and futurist component of a tracklist that should be seen as a path to follow from start to finish –forget about listening to the tracks separately. Techno gets another look and crawls out of the hole thanks to a gigantic album that seems to be recorded in the blackness that preceded the Big Bang. Scary, very scary.