Miles Tilmann
Underland EP
[sub:marine]
Rating: 7.6
There's gossip going around that glitch is already on its way out. Have the
squirms outstayed their welcome? It's doubtful, and not just because of the
prevalence of electronic failures that led to the sound's inception. Its
influence will permeate through the music world as a focus on texture and
technique, like what happened
with drum-n-bass-- witness the sped-up hi-hats and digital snares punctuating
post-jungle R&B.; But there is evidence that the trappings of fame have been
preoccupying the electronica scene lately, from Cex-y egotism to Moby's
large-media acclaim. A textbox about Matmos even popped up recently in an
article on plastic surgery in a women's fashion magazine.
.
So it's refreshing to hear Miles Tilmann's Underland-- 30 minutes of
the kind of smooth, early-90's techno that gave rise to the Warp label's
Artificial Intelligence series. Queing this EP instantly invites
comparisons to Aphex Twin's Selected Ambient Works volumes. The
structure is very similar-- just a succession of waveforms in the background
while squelchy beats layer themselves and then retreat. The solemn,
overlapping tones that unfold during "Letting" are a simple mathematical
equation. But rather than the dense, mind-twisting calculus of Autechre,
this one's world-affirming, like 2 + 2 = 4. The formula is far too simple
for Richard D. James to lay claim to, and all accusations of derivativeness
fade, soothed by the calm repetition.
Each of Underland's tracks flow together like a lucid dreamscape,
linked by short interludes. And though Tilmann uses a narrow range of sounds,
the record is far from monochromatic, emphasizing rich synth swells and
ebbing tides of bass. "Mother/Father" charms with soft music-box chimes and
crisp beats; memories from childhood replay themselves in your mind for a
moment, echoing the Boards of Canada's Music Has the Right to Children.
Perceptual processes slow until the listener becomes lost in the placental
warmth, hearing each note as if for the first time.
The endearing virtue of these eight meme-like moments is sincerity. There's
none of the constant burrowing through genre niches, nor any trace of irony,
sarcasm or quirky cults of personality. Instead, Tilmann has built a humble
temple to sonic purity and a sepulchre for the tired claim that electronic
music lacks human emotion. A visit to Underland has physiological
effects: the heart slows and limbs relax during "Derail" as the ambient house
keys wash in, sending chills up the spine. The healing potential of this
sense of intimacy cannot be exaggerated. One can only hope for a full-length
that features more of these reflective moments, respectful of ancestral
heritage but articulating new visions and ideas.
-Christopher Dare