The cover art for mysterious Tokyoite Serph’s second album is a line-drawn montage of images reminiscent of Where the Wild Things Are, Tolkien and the doodlings on a fifteen-year-old’s school textbook. The sounds contained on the album within suit that image just fine, full of child-like wonder at the juxtaposition and interplay of sounds, although I must admit that I cannot hear much of a Tolkienesque influence, (maybe Led Zeppelin just ruined it for me, linking grand battles between the massed forces of evil with intricate axemanship and Robert Plant’s warblings inexorably in my mind forever) although maybe Vent could be played at a Hobbit’s knees-up.
With purportedly only three years of musicianship behind him, Serph has produced a delightful album that flits between reference points and styles, never settling for too long. There’s some Boards of Canada style melodic electronica, some hints of the Symbolic Interaction label, the faux-jazz orchestral feel of Burnt Freidman circa Con Ritmo, and the cheeky downbeat textures of Hull’s finest, the Pork label. Serph’s music has enough ‘edge’ to it, it never feels overly syrupy or too cutsie. The one criticism that I would level at Vent is that it’s a very BUSY album, there’s very little room for contemplation. Many contemporary electronica artists tend to fill their compositions to the brim, with layer upon layer of sounds, textures and rhythms that can almost become a touch overwhelming if one is not in a conducive mood.
Feather features a stunning introduction of overlayed plucked string instruments, before the rhythm kicks it into a universe of sunny skies, complete with complex piano motifs bouncing off against jazzy drum rolls and hand claps. Mint’s “Sketches of Spain” style mournful intro descends into blunted hip hop beats and a walking upright bass line. Then suddenly, a change occurs, the tempo is almost doubled and the same constituents take on a whole new feeling – Japanese chip-tune music for body-popping robots?
Iceyedit’s deep bass, folktronic guitars and pointillist details are probably a good summation of where the album is at, as a whole. Title track Vent has strings, synths and percussive bottles colliding, before a post-garage Burial-style beat ticks in, complete with ratcheting bicycle freewheels and cooing Japanese female vocals. Rounding out the album, Planet’s drum & bass style two step beat and starry widescreen touches round out a satisfying and engaging listen from an artist that is sure to grow with maturity on each forthcoming release.
Oliver Laing
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