Fresh on remote viewers curated label Moteer, from deep somewhere in steep Lancashire, a debut distilling the essence of melancholic reflection down into a suprising, uplifting album. The most ethereal of rhythms, sodden beats cast a glistening web around snatched guitar melodies and faraway strings, graffiti-influenced rhythms and choral vocals, rhythm tracks made from wooden things and tumbling keys, which subsequently coalesce into utterly beguiling, ramshackle but resolute tunes, disassociated voices, xylophones, benign twinkles and reduced deepfolk bodypops accrue into a wonderful, cohesive summation to a genuinely remarkable record.
I guess that’s one way to sum up the unique sounds of Clickets. I have been deeply submerged in his music of late and so felt he is more than worthy of a mention on here…
‘Express Gifts’ is the debut album from Clickits, amblicated and friably impressive, distilling the essence of melancholic reflection down into a suprising, uplifting album. Opening with what at first appears to be the most ethereal of rhythms, ‘Aramaic’ slowly reveals it’s internal glory as sodden beats cast a glistening web around snatched guitar melodies and faraway strings: a composition so beautiful it’ll make your teeth ache. Continuing somewhat dewy-eyed , ‘Wheneveryouready’ assumes a refreshing minimally-frayed stance, through a graffiti-influenced rhythm and choral vocals, whilst ‘Lilophone’ begins with what sounds like unrelated background noise, rhythm tracks made from wooden things and tumbling keys, which subsequently coalesce into utterly beguiling, ramshackle but resolute tunes. ‘in my field of view’ inches past like a deep dale meeting with early kraftwerk – sublime stuff, and coming to the centre of the album ‘lament for the north’ troubles ghosts of early Art of Noise, ‘Brttle’ Sakamoto style innocence to travel through the Clickits sandy hi-fi speakers and animate their 21st century attention spans. Clickits borrow the Murcof schematic – the closer ‘Was Until Today’ slowly allows disparate elements – disassociated voices, xylophones, benign twinkles and reduced deepfolk bodypops to accrue into a wonderful, cohesive summation to a genuinely remarkable record. As intense and beautiful, as involved with the questions of light and dark, as a candle seen in moonlight. – Boomkat
Moteer is curated and looked after by The Remote Viewer, an occasional, organic, loose-footed imprint of love for music. The first release has quite evidently been tailor-made for Moteer, the debut material from a duo who seem to adhere to the same micro-campfire aesthetic, bringing to life a simply breathtaking collection of tracks that utilise both sublime acoustic flows and the most developed electronic segmentation available to the technicians in their laboratories. Considered percussive, yet melancholic arrangements, there’s a core of brightness and tender feeling. ”September Sounds Like This” has the potential to become as anthemic this year as Morgan Caney and Kamal Joory’s “Crispy Leaves Underfoot” did in 2002. Similar tempo and the same crunchy leaved rustle over stargazing, opulent bass. “Audro”, a bowed and lullaby beginning, give way to a melody all ISAN aficionados will just adore. Honey and lemon and perhaps a dash of scotch and some ginger. Hard to believe this is the Clickets’ debut, check the flute, piano and headnod, rimshot sharp, headnod factor of “No Clickety” – a track disguised under such a knowing, self-effacing title. The flute just seems to float, effortlessly, next to the organic cymbals and brushes, still electronic, feel of the tune. Even “Words from the Heart”, an urgent discussion in a pub, deep into Baxenden, Lancashire, warmed with hymnal keys just has that extra something special. Reflection. “Creepy Crawlies” has a kind of Arovaneish purity of sound, truly heart breaking, breath taking stuff – but comparisons just aren’t enough here. “Insert title here”, a systems kind of semi -boogie with just melting melodies again, and the now familiar aptitude for bass and mood. “Ryan Davis Helps” has poise beyond its knowing, fireside stuff for the winter snow, disguised and chill reminders of a less sidetracked life, an utterly devotional selection of great music. If you’ve fallen in love with the language spoken by the likes of the Remote Viewer, ISAN, Opiate, Dub Tractor and Arovane, you now also have talent of the calibre of Clickits to reckon with. – Boomkat
Leave a Comment so far
Leave a comment