Mokira Persona

[Type; 2009]

Styles: ambient, drone
Others: Gas, Philip Jeck, Tim Hecker

Far too much ado is made about “analog warmth,” as if recording fidelity somehow equates to authenticity and overall quality. For those not convinced that warm, natural sounds can be generated with “cold” digital techniques, get yourself a copy of Gas’ Pop album or any of Christian Fennesz’ recent output, particularly his collaborations with Ryuichi Sakamoto. Certainly there is a different character to analog sound (not to mention the benefits in sound preservation and relative autonomy), but from a songwriting standpoint, reliance on analog equipment as a shtick will likely return less-than-satisfactory results.

It came as a surprise that Andreas Tilliander (a.k.a. Mokira) recorded Persona exclusively with analog equipment, especially considering his past output. Clip Hop, released on Raster-Noton, was as synthetic and glitchy as the name implied, and his first release for Type, simply titled Album, comprised crisp clicks and wet burbling sounds made possible through Fennesz-ian digital signal processing. Although the sounds were quite alien, they were no less inviting, approachable, and even "warm."

The great irony of Persona, then, is in its lifelessness. The first three tracks detail a desolate industrial wasteland, where distant metallic sounds clang in murky synth textures. For almost half of the album’s duration, the bleak soundscape slowly expands, but never reaches complete realization. It seems as if something will rise out of the fog and reveal itself, but whatever &lsqup;it’ is remains concealed after about 24 minutes. “Valla Torg Kraut” introduces a sequenced rhythmic bassline that repeats underneath dirty, swirling synthesizers. While it’s a welcome change, very little happens in the track. The same applies to “Oscillations and Tremolo,” which offers exactly what its title suggests: an oscillator sounding for 10 minutes, complemented with minimal additional instrumentation.

On “Ode to the Ode to the Street Hassle” and “Invitation to Love,” Tilliander seemingly channels The Caretaker and Philip Jeck, respectively. It’s a shame that the most interesting material on the album is saved for the end and allotted the least amount of time, but the two songs help redeem Persona. As the unsettling cover artwork implies, the album contains bleak, gray music that offers little variation. There’s a fuzzy haze throughout the whole recording, with the constant tape-hiss and sound levels that often reach into the red, but it feels slightly amateurish. The preference for analog equipment was detrimental here, and it sees Tilliander, who has proven himself a talented, creative, and progressive artist, relying more on equipment than compositional prowess.

1. About Last Step and Scale
2. Lord, Am I Going Down?
3. Contour
4. Valla Torg Kraut
5. Oscillations and Tremolo
6. Ode to the Ode to the Street Hassle
7. Invitation to Love

Most Read



Etc.