Silent 77 evinces a devil-may-care attitude that is more a considered artistic strategy than an impulsive, instant gratification in-itself. Geskia leapfrogs from techno, to bleary ambient passages and hip-hop inspired breakbeats in an exciting and perfectly judged performance. “Right Lights” shows a dynamic agility in placing huge plundered lumps of bass and rolling beats into its twitchy insubstantial flow. Its frothing ecstasy elicits a smile, though at the same time its execution and structure remains strident and makes for an experience that dwells on several levels. Shifting gears, “Fall Fall” is a mossy bed of beats that cushion vine-like keys and eerie lights, which highlight some sugary vocal snippets, preserved from cloying sweetness by an undertow of static electricity and warped electronic inflections.
The album is littered with such moments of jewelled inspiration. On occasion this means something or other is found out of place, but it is usually accompanied by several disorders, which has a compensating effect that re-establishes a different sort of order. Besides, despite its being a tapestry of many threads, out of which arises a lovely gripping drama, its generally characterized by clean lines and a consistently appealing simplicity, all residues of a calm focus that often suggests attention and personal investment.
Geskia thus adds a new wrinkle to Flau’s flush face. Where the labels penchant for relaxed atmospheres and fragile harmonics does come in, it does so as a congenial chimera (if anything, more would have been welcome), distracting the album in its stubborn, repetitive attempts to ensnare a naive perfection that, one suspects, would have eventually gotten the better of it.
Max Schaefer
