In many ways both Patrick Cowley and Candida Royalle both occupied a pivotal position in the sexual revolution sweeping San Francisco during the seventies, Cowley as the architect of hi-NRG disco and some of gay icon Sylvester’s biggest dancefloor hits, and Royalle (born Candice Vadalla) as an adult film actress and subsequently one of the first producers and directors of feminist erotic film. The connection between the two artists isn’t as tangential as it might first appear, especially given Cowley’s prolific soundtrack work for gay porn films (something documented by several recent reissue compilations such as ‘Muscle Up’ and ‘Skool Daze’).
In truth though, the sorts of sounds being explored on this compilation of five previously unreleased tracks recorded by the duo between 1973-1975 sourced from tapes recently unearthed in former classmate Maurice Tani’s attic sit well away from disco or synthy funk stylings. More than anything else, the primary influence here is Cowley’s early pre-disco experiments as a student at San Francisco City College’s Electronic Music Lab, which saw him trying to recreate the environmental sounds of nature using synthesisers such as a Serge modular. Built around rippling analogue synth sequences and delayed out vocals from Royalle, the five predominantly expansive tracks collected here sit closer to ambient and contemporary seventies electronic prog than anything else.
Indeed, the opening title track calls to mind echoes of Edgar Froese and Co’s early Ohr label work given a teasing vocal presence as playful wordless uluations get stuttered and layered against a backdrop of meandering liquid synth sequences, birdlike chirps and a forest of simulated jungle sounds, the vocals assuming a more swooping diva like presence as dark buzzing arpeggiation begins to unfold towards the end. If the end result is as subtly unsettling as it is weirdly calming, ‘Elementals’ comes across more as Cowley and Royalle experimenting with ideas live to tape, as burbling aquatic ripples gradually give way to atonal analogue synth squeals, the frantic television dialogue adding to the sense of unhingedness as Royalle’s siren tones suddenly float through.
It’s the eleven minute long ‘Shimmering (Where Am I?)’ that offers up this collection’s centrepiece though, building a beautific sense of calm as cosmic arpeggios spiral amidst noodling keyboard solos and liquid-sounding ripples, before the entire track spirals off into a kaleidoscope of splashing textures and ringing harmonics. With both Cowley and Royalle gone (the former passing away in 1982 and the latter in 2015), it’s a pity that this intriguing but teasingly brief compilation is all that’s left to us of their musical legacy.
