Self-respecting journalists pick up on the details of their subjects the first time around, and if they don't, they make them up. The objective interpretation of reporting isn't so far off the subjective work of discussing music; certainly the demand for information is the same, and if one favors hard facts above plain fiction, it's only by a small margin. I could have presented a story about how Japan's DILL (Yuji Inoue) was apparently unaware that his static-y music-- spliced, cut and pasted like the best turn-of-the-millennium electronica-- was at least three years too late to make a difference, and it might very well have been good journalism. There are plenty of musical examples to support that claim, not least of which are covered in Pitchfork reviews of Autechre, Squarepusher, Aphex Twin, Plaid and Hecker. But sometimes, it's worth missing the obvious in favor of catching something better.
WYHIWYG's details are minute but endearing. DILL's music seems complicated in its construction, but comes out flawed instead of "glitch," live instead of quantized, and modern instead of post-modern. The cuts and actual glitches are often reminiscent of considerably colder efforts by Autechre or Markus Popp, though are less experiments in electronically controlled chaos than the carvings and angles of sharp, ambitious ambient music. Inoue uses cello, piano and soft female vocals modestly, placing them strategically throughout the album's 37-minute program; he uses enough organic source material that the songs seem only just out of reach for a particularly precise chamber pop ensemble. In fact, the minimalist arrangements often exploit so few elements that I'm reminded of his cousins in Onkyo, who approach improvisation with the same knack for naturalism and understatement. Inoue's music is a lot closer to Brian Eno's classically informed ambience than Otomo Yoshihide's space-age free improvisation, but is just as Spartan and strangely attractive.
The tracks with vocals stand out immediately; Inoue has a knack for supporting clear, seductive melodies with restless, jittery glitch. The brief "Tena" features the rounded, vocoder-affected alto of Akiko Sasaki over a minimal bassline and collage-style backdrop. Radio static comes and goes, and on the second verse I can hear bits of Eastern percussion, a falling siren and near atonal synthesizer clips. Yet, despite potential overcrowding, the track feels barely there. "Up Down to There" is similarly, deceptively busy, but uses its glitched pitter-patter to form the hint of a beat. A looped succession of sine waves introduces a two-chord progression and simple synth melody that wouldn't sound out of place on one of the Cluster/Eno records. However, the cut-up vocals about 6 minutes in remind me of Prefuse 73, or some such practitioner of digital-age voice design. The song also makes the case that Björk should have listened to DILL prior to recording the vocally obsessed Medulla.
The anatomies of the individual tracks should interest fans of that good old dead IDM, especially those who felt its apex was Autechre's Confield. DILL's beats favor seemingly random successions of hi-hat and bass drum, and nary a backbeat within earshot. "Onpotts", with still more ingeniously manipulated vocal, pipes in a soft, jazzy shuffle (not schaffel, Cologners), and the shoegazed "Won Noefte Jam" features live drumming and a melancholy vocal duet. However, Inoue is hardly content to while away into gray bliss, opting to rinse the beat under his software and letting the singer carry the tune over a single-note-obsessed guitar. Dozens of things like this happen on each track on WYHIWYG, and in the hands of a lesser artist, could easily overwhelm the senses. DILL is more interested in revealing things few people notice, and in the process, creates something obviously beautiful.
