“yeah, I got this dodgy timer, see, it keeps going off and creating all these polyrhythmic sub rnb structures, know anyone who can fix it mate?” Nah, soz....
In fact the idea that this release is, ahem, “DaDaesque” is never too far away; as there’s always an element of theatre and well, plain silliness infusing a lot of the music.
They don’t use much of the scale do Udarnik, but then that’s their strength; somehow there is not an ounce of fat on this LP, and it’s somehow a classic underground release.
It’s also far too short as a listen to get irritated by it, and like an early morning cuppa it brings you round, gives you a bit of focus and, weirdly enough hope. Hope. Now there’s a pretentious thought…
There’s this spaceyness to this record that’s up there with the best stuff Maximum Joy or Pop Group did; that loose, whirligig sound on Free-Dum Trail or Orbit Macht Frei are cases in point...
This record has a quality of something special, of something indefinably GOOD about it; in fact so good I think I can get away with calling it brilliant. One thing’s for certain, I can’t get enough of it at the moment.
It’s certainly their best balanced record too, so smooth that it engages your subconscious a LONG time before the rest of your brain catches up. I bet you that you only notice it’s actually on when Kissing The Surface starts.
This is a marvellous LP; one which employs a mix of mad sounds and considerable know how. Not to mention bags of charm. At times it’s a weird pop master class.
Maybe Hunter Complex are serial sentimentalists. A lot of the tracks do have a marked sentimental edge, like Serious Glass or the brilliant Space, which nabs Seeing Out the Angel’s key pattern from the Minds’ Sons & Fascination.
It’s easy to make really, really boring records using this screaming, thrashy style. Or, ones that quickly lose their initial charm. I think this isn’t and won’t.
Even the act’s name, Creative City Project, does reek of hooking your laptop up in a coffee bar, or buying a tuna wrap and moseying down to the skateboard park.
So, it seems KIN have tea cups, a washing machine and a pile of newspapers, among other things, to thank.
A while ago I heard someone say: “Rotterdam is the Dutch dubstep capital.” And I would have to confirm that.
It is a very accessible record mind, as I’ve hinted at before there’s nothing really arsty or difficult here, rather the sensibility is that of a weird kind of pop.
The Rommelmarkt feel that Bottelaars en Beesten has is given weight by the fact that this LP is a compilation of tracks that somehow have fallen by the wayside or have been overlooked for other releases.
There are two truly great things about this release: one is the spacey quality of the music. The other is its incredible patience. This is a powerful, slow moving beast, not looking to push you around.
To say that it’s interesting and often inspiring is a bit of an understatement: it’s not an easy listen but it’s a hypnotic one and one that you can easily get into the habit of listening to, especially if you need something a bit offbeat to tune into.
So there’s an ephemeral, delicate feel to this new record, Marc having imperceptibly shifted their sound folk-wards and looking to bring a more melancholy note to proceedings, utilising Brenda’s incredibly expressive voice in the mid-range.
I’ll stand by an old observation I made of them, that they are a loner’s band and as such best enjoyed in the confines of your bedroom.