By now, it's common knowledge that only a few laptop artists have the ability to connect with their audiences in a live setting. Thus far, in my experience, most mouse-draggers are unmasked on stage as composing non-visual video games for "avant-garde" adults. But there are a handful of electronic acts that fare well in the club, and judging from Fabula, Skyphone might be one of them. On their debut, the Danish laptop-rock trio mesh analog and digital with live and pre-recorded instruments, creating a lovely downtempo hybrid that milks interesting aspects from both approaches. Though this is a debut, the three have been acquainted musically/personally for some time, and have played in a number of rock bands prior to committing to Skyphone in 1999. They mention somewhere being inspired by glitch as well as 80s mood-rock and folk, and the rock interplay certainly establishes an enjoyable dynamic.
A number of these 11 tracks share a vibe similar to Tape's recent release, Milieu, but Skyphone usher in a more digitally hermetic, sprawling sound. Sure to be at least generally enjoyed by fans of Boards of Canada, Matmos (especially The West), Four Tet, et. al., the band generally avoids generic laptopisms, managing to locate a sweetly naturalist groove within even the most drag/click tracks.
Opener "Monitor Batik" mixes sounds by the dozen: Occasional radio hiss (or rain), tone patterns, toy bells (or xylophone), and the triad of delicate notes at song's end stand out clearly, unmarred by the detailed layers. Close listening illuminates abrupt/attenuated percussion, wind chimes, quavery sci-fi satellite tones, maybe even the lapping waves of an ocean. Otherwise, the strongest (and for some reason briefest) tracks flaunt the analog/digital disconnect. "Cent Gauge"'s fluttery music box pulses, taps, and digital wind opens quietly to drifting folds of gently sunny psych-folk guitar. "Into Hill Country" similarly juxtaposes guitar strums with synthesized buzzes and sighs. A longer piece, "Airtight Golem", provides a bright patch of sun shadows and a diaphanous exhale layered over water-drop percussion, a quicker techno beat placed so far back in the mix you'll strain to grab its prettiness.
Between the glories, though, are the ho-hum doldrums: "Sinne Gas" is run-of-the-mill besides the gentle interweaving of acoustic guitar, steel-drum style percussion, and rotating hiss. The pretty but vacant guitar pulses of "In Our Time" noodles here, flanges there, but doesn't budge. And in the end, this ability to multi-track ad infinitum makes me nostalgic for the more inventive punk rock splices pioneered by Marinetti, Schwitters, Cage, etc. I don't know, call me a Luddite, but there's something about making music on the same machine that orders your books, types your papers, and downloads your porn that just isn't all that sexy. I'm not necessarily calling for a return to a razor-blade and tape method (though many admirable composers still operate solely in that old-timey realm), but it seems to me that the intermittent use of real-life incisions amongst software-heavy compositions could bring something more to the music.
My idealistic desire for naturalism aside, Skyphone certainly know to utilize space. And ultimately, it's Fabula's rich, uncluttered soundscape, as well as its sometimes darkened, brocade corners, that wins me over more often than not to those electro-acoustic charms.
