Beyond The Cage can’t be classified as minimalism in a strict sense, but it definitely rides the wave of German electronic minimalsim, over which it lays songs which can only be described as pop – in the best sense of that word.
Every sound on this album is small and intimate. What is amazing is the head of steam that can be built with the expert layering of these pieces of littleness. A track like ‘Some Gin’ frames a SID-chip sounding bass line in a simple electro-shuffle. Vocalist and co-producer Rebecca Gropp scats some wordless harmony hooks and counter rhythmic lead vocals. There’s not much more to it, but it’s transfixing. ‘Les Cages’ places a beautiful turn of the millenium deep-house groove under some spoken (French) word. Other tracks use less driving sonic forms, such as album opener ‘Windmills’ with its folk undertones or ‘Bardou’ with trip-hop rhythms, acoustic guitar and processed harmonica.
Gropp’s voice is up close throughout and you feel like her tri-lingual musings are coming from the same room you are in. It’s an intimacy that matches the sonic pallette of the music and is further highlighted by her lyrical concerns. “Your words are like cinnamon to my soul”, she muses in ‘Pepper’ – the possible mawkishness kept at bay by subtle twists of phrase. She sings in English, French and German at different stages and, to these ears at least, sounds confident and convincing in each, never allowing room for Euro-parody. The combination of intimacy in Gropps’s voice and Janosch Blaul’s production with the multi-cultural reach of the songs is a powerful method of shrinking the global village.
When broken down to its constituent parts, there’s probably not much here you haven’t heard before, but Pupkulies and Rebecca combine the parts to potent effect. Every sound, no matter how small, is audible and adds something. Every phrase feels like it’s being given to you personally. Beyond The Cage draws you in, wraps you up, dances with you and holds you intimately.
Adrian Elmer
