Up to now, Julianna Barwick has not often engaged in collaboration. Her process, which involves layering her voice with a Loop Station, is defined by solitude; a feeling that comes across in her music with full force. So it was a nice surprise to hear that she would contribute to the Rvng label's FRKWYS series of 12" records, which pairs contemporary and classic electronic artists. Barwick drew Ikue Mori of the seminal no-wave band DNA, who has ably kept up with new technology, evolving from trap sets to drum machines to computer software. The four extended, improvised movements that compose FRKWYS Vol. 6 are familiar turf for Mori, but a whole new world for Barwick.
The music was recorded in New York's White Columns gallery last fall-- half with the musicians each isolated in a cubicle; Mori with her laptop and Barwick with her looping console. (A video documenting the performance can be found here.) Right away, with "Dream Sequence", fans of Florine and The Magic Place will find themselves in new territory. Barwick's voice is lightly scattered amid an array of computerized slide whistles and metallic resonance-- not an enveloping presence, but a thing among things. Several minutes elapse before she unleashes one of her trademarked melodious shrieks. Playing against Barwick's usual placidity, it's almost chaotic, but still has a clear build, climax, and resolution.
Mori's music comes from machines but evokes the natural world, pulling in sounds like dripping water, crackling electricity, and warped chimes. This is consistent across all four tracks, though each has a singular arc and feel once you get past the uniformly distressed surfaces. On "Stalactite Castle", Barwick's voice competes with mechanical vortices that call to mind Ellen Allien and Antye Greie. Then she takes a more leading and openly songful role on "Rain and Shine at the Lotus Pond" and "Rejoinder", with an almost choral home stretch bringing the record to an arresting close.
Barwick fans may feel an initial wave of disappointment that this doesn't bash you over the head with holiness the way her records do. And those who appreciate her music through the filter of Enya, rather than Brian Eno, may find Mori's haywire electronics simply indigestible. It's not the sort of thing you just throw on in the background, as The Magic Place could be. But taken on its own terms, it's a sneakily bewitching record that bodes well for Barwick's future. Until now, we knew that she was very good at one thing-- FRKWYS Vol. 6 is an encouraging sign that she's willing and able to branch out.
