Another Bearsuit - Anata Wa Sukkari Tsakarete Shimai [AWST62]
6 January, 2014
I thought I could spring this on Gold Flake Paint some months ago, but...alas! The piece never aired. Too eccentric for the glitter kids, I reckon. Well, never mind them - Mark Whitby hailed this as one of the finest albums of the year, and I lauded it highly, too. Here, see (and hear) for yerself...
Often times, when enthusiastic critics state that something is “beyond classification”, they’re really just too lazy to figure out what it sounds like. But not always, of course. If you’re one of those folk that like filing your albums under neat little categories, then Anata Wa Sukkari Tsakarete Shimai (hereafter referred to as AWSTS) will completely stupefy you.
Perhaps the best label for the whole album is the label it was released for. Yup – file under “Bearsuit”, that consistently (and endearingly) quirky label from Scotland that scans the globe far and wide for the strangest artists. AWSTS is no exception, as it’s a trio comprised of an Englishman, a Scotsman, and a Japanese bloke – or, at least, it used to, but the latter artist, Mr. _ (Underscore), has vanished from the face of the virtual earth. Strange times.
At any rate, this leaves us with The Lost Charles Underscore, AWSTS’s latest LP. In a nutshell, it’s a blazing chain reaction of supernovas – ideas burst from the bright, churning mix in fits of color. A whole prism of electronic tones, from booming drum machines to sparkling vintage synths to hip skidding beats, permeate each and every track.
This cascade of color flows in a dense, dark rainforest of sound, turning and twisting and shifting shades enough to dazzle even the most jaded listener. “Backyard” slips from a percussive dance ritual to an otherworldly onslaught to a becalming but befuddling drift into deep waters. “invalid bed” lifts you upward with a gentle draft of synths, yet twitches and writhes and moans in spurts of spliced drums and twisted guitars.
Interwoven in these baffling medleys are spoken words, narratives of sorts, tales that demand repeated listens to unravel – but “the cost of a spiritlifter” inspires fear at once. “Don’t worry – you won’t even notice him, even when he’s inside you.” Combined with the gross squishing and squirming in the background and the deepened voice, you’d expect this tune to descend into something horrific, like the bloody climax of a horror flick where the token squeamish click is laid out fully conscious on a dissecting table – but instead, it resolves to a trance-inducing wave, a happy sedation and successful operation.
Summarizing the whole of this vivid album would be ridiculous. For AWSTS invent so many astonishing surprises, and merge so many incompatible colors, that saying much more would spoil the novelty of the experience. And trust me, The Lost Charles Underscore is an experience in every sense of the word. It’s out now on Bearsuit’s Bandcamp page.
Perhaps the best label for the whole album is the label it was released for. Yup – file under “Bearsuit”, that consistently (and endearingly) quirky label from Scotland that scans the globe far and wide for the strangest artists. AWSTS is no exception, as it’s a trio comprised of an Englishman, a Scotsman, and a Japanese bloke – or, at least, it used to, but the latter artist, Mr. _ (Underscore), has vanished from the face of the virtual earth. Strange times.
At any rate, this leaves us with The Lost Charles Underscore, AWSTS’s latest LP. In a nutshell, it’s a blazing chain reaction of supernovas – ideas burst from the bright, churning mix in fits of color. A whole prism of electronic tones, from booming drum machines to sparkling vintage synths to hip skidding beats, permeate each and every track.
This cascade of color flows in a dense, dark rainforest of sound, turning and twisting and shifting shades enough to dazzle even the most jaded listener. “Backyard” slips from a percussive dance ritual to an otherworldly onslaught to a becalming but befuddling drift into deep waters. “invalid bed” lifts you upward with a gentle draft of synths, yet twitches and writhes and moans in spurts of spliced drums and twisted guitars.
Interwoven in these baffling medleys are spoken words, narratives of sorts, tales that demand repeated listens to unravel – but “the cost of a spiritlifter” inspires fear at once. “Don’t worry – you won’t even notice him, even when he’s inside you.” Combined with the gross squishing and squirming in the background and the deepened voice, you’d expect this tune to descend into something horrific, like the bloody climax of a horror flick where the token squeamish click is laid out fully conscious on a dissecting table – but instead, it resolves to a trance-inducing wave, a happy sedation and successful operation.
Summarizing the whole of this vivid album would be ridiculous. For AWSTS invent so many astonishing surprises, and merge so many incompatible colors, that saying much more would spoil the novelty of the experience. And trust me, The Lost Charles Underscore is an experience in every sense of the word. It’s out now on Bearsuit’s Bandcamp page.