Matmos
A Chance to Cut is a Chance to Cure
[Matador]
Rating: 8.8
The concept of this album was being discussed long before anyone heard the
music: seven songs, mostly pieced together using sounds recorded during
medical procedures. Yes, M.C. Schmidt and Drew Daniel (the men of Matmos)
actually donned surgical masks and brought their DATs into operating rooms
to record the sounds of a liposuction, nose jobs, and so on. They then used
their computers to shape and process the sounds into actual compositions.
The two made a similar stab at high-concept music-making with their second
album, Quasi Objects. I owned that one for a time, but ultimately got
rid of it because it seemed too reliant on novelty. On that record, the
gimmick-- music based on sounds recorded around their home (e.g. whoopee
cushions, etc.)-- smothered the music. The test of any conceptual record
is how well it stands on its own, removed from the angle. And A Chance to
Cut is a Chance to Cure is a first-rate work, even if you're unfamiliar
with the backstory.
That said, knowing the concept behind this record adds plenty to the enjoyment.
Take "For Felix (And All the Rats)," for example. The music alone, which
consists of what sounds like Tony Conrad-style detuned string drones and an
African thumb piano, is striking and needs no explanation. But when we
discover that the track was made using sounds coaxed from an empty rat's cage
(Matmos applied a violin bow to the bars to mimic the strings, and then plucked
the bars for the thumb piano sound), it adds a rich layer of meaning. As a
commentary on innocent life in bondage, it's just as powerful as a photograph
of an eyeless monkey in restraints.
Both the concept and the execution of "For Felix" are brilliant individually,
and taken together, the effect is almost overpowering; it's a terribly sad and
heartbreaking piece of music. None of the other tracks feature such a strong
conceptual coup, but the rest vary from decent to great.
When they recorded the sound of the instruments used in laser eye surgery,
Matmos were smart enough to realize that the buzzing instrumentation bore a
marked resemblance to a Roland 303, and hence, we have the wired electro of
"L.A.S.I.K." A speech record used to teach enunciation to the hearing-impaired
serves as the basis of "Spondee," with the perfect elocution of the therapist
used as rhythmic counterpoint to a devastatingly funky house rhythm. There are
a few horn stabs interlaced with the clubby groove, but the more punchy accents
come from a tool used to clean sinus cavities.
Which illustrates another reason A Chance to Cut is such a success: it
uses a fresh sound palette. If you've spent any time listening to the
post-Autechre world of IDM, you're probably aware that most programmers aren't
getting everything they should out of Reaktor. All those familiar buzzes,
squelches and clicks are starting to wear out their welcome; hearing Matmos
work magic with material clearly recorded in the field makes me realize what
I've been missing. Sounds provide feelings even when they're not playing
melodies, so much of the art in this kind of music is assembling the basic
substance.
But if it's melodies you want, Matmos deliver in that department, too.
"California Rhinoplasty" takes a bleep from some kind of surgical monitor and
pitch-shifts it into something hummable, until the song morphs into an ethereal
cloud of gentle chords and cutting machines (no doubt buzzing through some nose
cartilage). As with the rest of the record, even if you didn't know the song
title or the sources, it would still sound great.
-Mark Richard-San