When listening to Dying in Time – Port-Royal’s tenth studio release and third full length recording – innumerable references come to mind. In my case, the audio-memory has a hard time switching off the back-catalogue built from two decades spent listening to electronic music – but this is all said with the best intentions. A quick scan of Port-Royal’s past offerings show them to be fully absorbed in the world of synthesizers and programming to the extent where writing and performances involve much more than button pressing and sample driving.
Taking a retrospective view, this focus manifests in a way one would expect of vintage synth-driven music such as Kraftwerk, New Order, Harmonia/Eno, or even Depeche Mode, whilst simultaneously inflecting the contemporary sounds, textures and compositions of artists like Autechre, Underworld, Aphex Twin, or FSOL. Furthermore, Port-Royal also embrace a somewhat post-rock stance – their music could comfortably sit on the shelf between Sigur Ros, Radiohead and Mum.
Possible references and influences aside, this is, as I noted before, all said with the best intentions – for Dying In Time is a fabulously lush and textured album, rewarding the listener with more than the surface may appear to promise. Rhythmically it is often laced with driving, sometimes industrial beats; instrumentally, the record is infused with heavily layered synth chords that appear in a variety of guises, somehow sidestepping repetitiveness and predictability. Add to this a substantial dose of political disaffection – their MySpace page lists their influences invariably as “history of the 20th century (especially history of communism in Soviet Union and Eastern Europe), philosophy, Tupolev, being lost late at night in a strange forest in north-eastern part of Czech Republic…” – and that’s just for starters.
This all makes for a resolutely reflective album, regardless of the tempo of any given composition. Opening track ‘HVA (Failed Revolutions)’ sets the tone of the album – a spoken word vocal sits over dense instrumentation and crackly samples, making for the ethereal aural entrapment of the listener. Further on, ‘Anna Ustinova’ rings of brightness and defiance, while ‘Balding Generation’ brings on the bass just the way us synth-heads like it. The last three tracks, ‘Hermitage’ parts 1, 2 and 3 contain more sparse, at times guitar oriented writing – closing the album with a stunningly melancholy vision.
Melonie Bayl-Smith