David Kristian: Sweet Bits
Monochrome

Prompted by the album title, I came to Sweet Bits, Kristian's follow-up to his 1999 Sawdust Sinedust Squaredust, suspecting it might be similar in spirit to the lush melodic songcraft popularized by Morr Music and City Centre Offices. But then, momentarily holding in check whatever stylistic intimations might be suggested by its title, I realized that the album might also perpetuate the energized 'robot music' style associated with Suction Records' Snow Robot compilations to which Kristian has contributed. (Generally speaking, speculation of this kind might seem unusual, but the mercurial Kristian has dozens of techno, electro-acoustic, and soundtrack albums lining his discography; consequently, every new release invokes the corresponding question about what genre it might inhabit.)

Upon listening to the album, however, I discovered that neither possibility pertained, as Sweet Bits only marginally aligns with either category (though “Coping with Stress” with its machine-like, pinprick rhythms would fit comfortably onto any of the Suction comps, as would the insistent electro-funk outing “Dogfin”). In fact, anyone broaching the album expecting it to partake of that Suction sound might hear it as rather lethargic by comparison, an impression more than reinforced by the opening track: following an unnecessary half minute intro of what sounds like distorted animal chatter, “Clothespin” initiates Sweet Bits lugubriously with a slow, curdling tempo, though the song is ultimately redeemed by clusters of echoing synth patterns that cascade and billow in turn.

One soon realizes, however, that Sweet Bits demands a different listening mindset, one that hears it as more of an ambient work than anything else. Specifically, while there seems to be some hint of an animal-related theme (judging by song titles, plus the numerous creature-like noises heard throughout), the album is often sonically kin to the music of Eno, Bola, and the Raster-Noton camp. One detects the latter, for example, in the clinical beats of “Eleven Forty Four” and the sparse rhythm patterns of needling prickles, clicks, and wipes in “Wiper Cornet Piper Hornet.” Pieces like “Newgarden,” an amelodic assemblage of scraping noises and wavering insect hum, and “Owl Howl with Hoots,” whose percolating rhythm machine beats, muffled two-note motif, and animal garbles recall Another Green World, sound more like ambient exercises.

The strongest tracks include the slowly building “Kippering School,” whose bleeping and glistening tones eventually coalesce into a dense, multi-layered drone, and “Nastapoka,” where skittish beats appear alongside a distorted vocal motif that resembles an ululating mantra. “Fragmented Skyway” features patterns of bleeding spectral tones alongside Bola-like beats, with the song's electronics eventually stretching out in razor-sharp manner. A beatless interweave of spacey shudders and writhing glissandi opens “Manatee's Last Gasp” joined by eventually surfacing tech-house beats accompanied by shards that shoot past in Doppler-like manner. Perhaps the most accomplished piece is the dark ambient excursion “Acton Sparrow” where pebbly glimmers restlessly ebb upon a portentous base of percolating burbles and sweeping strings. It's a superb coda that, in keeping with this expertly crafted album of unusual textures and surgical precision, is more restrained than animated.

February 2005