Pan American
360 Business/360 Bypass
[Kranky]
Rating: 7.8
A pox on the naive, casual music listener who changes radio stations if
something blatantly ear-throttling (or vulgarly romantic) isn't playing!
That's what I say. These unfortunate souls-- and I think we all know a
handful-- will never quite grasp what it is that makes the rest of us so
enamored of the work of Pan American's Mark Nelson, and other cinematic
ambient artists.
Patience is a virtue. The Best Things Come to Those Who Wait. Ah, which
cliché shall I evoke next? Tempting as it may be for Mr. Casual Listener,
as mentioned above, to dismiss music that takes its time to get going, he
does it a great disservice by actually doing so. Nelson revels in the small
details-- the subtle shifts in texture and sound.
When recording with his creepy Virginian avant-o-mates in Labradford, Nelson
concentrates on instrumental interplay in pieces that are simultaneously
soothingly static and unsettling. But when left to his solo devices, we find
Pan American notching out the more dub-influenced groove sensibilities that
lingered in some of Labradford's work. It's been said that Lab-mate Carter
Brown's more typical muso approach to composition tempers Nelson's electronics-
descended leanings. That argument is given credence here on this second-- and
quite remarkable-- album under Nelson's Pan American moniker.
All manner of vaguely eerie atmospheres abound on this record, yet for
all the surface iciness, there's a beckoning textural warmth that keeps
it from sounding distant. With headphones, the craft of the sonics is more
readily absorbed-- at wimpy low levels, this stuff would probably be
about as interesting as listening to distant street traffic. But, as
anyone who's truly had their ass kicked by great music knows, volume gets
results. Quickly. Turn this shit up if it isn't rocking your boat, in other
words. Only then will the lovely clanging and dubby bass of "Double Rail"
nail all the right places in your little black heart. At low levels,
guest vocalists Low and backing music on "Code" could be mistaken for
some crazy religious radio station with some worrisome repeated chanting.
Up goes the listening level, and you're being grooved along thusly by the
pounding kicks, ringing dub-rhythmic chords and echoed hats and cymbals,
while the rather lovely minor-key chant drills itself into your brain.
Nelson's work here is not too derivative in itself, but traces of artists
like Pole, Global Communication, and the Basic Channel/Chain Reaction
stable are in attendance. Here and there, Nelson goes on auto-pilot for
a little too long: "Coastal" seems a bit too content to ride a vaguely
lovely but ultimately too-featureless pattern to its inevitable end several
minutes later. Bits of "K. Luminate" meander, which is understandable over
the course of a nine or ten minute track.
The addition of Chicago Underground Duo cornetist Rob Mazurek would seem
to be a nice avant touch to the otherwise electronic tracks, but it works
better on paper than on the record. His playing, while a warm complement
at times, usually sticks out like a sore thumb. It seems particularly forced
into unlikely spots on the closer, "Both Ends Fixed," a track which otherwise
follows another savory recipe of deep bass, echoing percussion, and laidback
chordal repetition.
All in all, chalk up another worthy and fascinating chapter to Kranky's
already formidable post-rock/experimental catalogue. Come, Mr. Casual
Listener, pray with me and my congregation at the Sonic Altar in the
Church of Studio Wizardry, won't you? We're a fine bunch, once you get
to know us.
-Dan Gardopee