In 1994 Autechre released the Anti EP, the highlight of which was a track titled "Flutter" that was specifically programmed not to contain any repetitive beats. This form of non-dance dance music came as a response to an act of legislation named the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act, which the UK government issued in an attempt to shut down illegal raves. "Music" was defined in the bill as containing "a succession of repetitive beats," causing Autechre to come up with an inventive way around the issue via "Flutter". Whether intrepid DJs attempted to play the track to circumvent the government's plans is undocumented-- Autechre's music is hardly rave-friendly even when they're not trading in non-repetitive beats. Fast-forward to 2012 and Keith Fullerton Whitman has pulled on a strand started by "Flutter" with Occlusions. "Every effort has been made to avoid divisible rhythms (although mistakes are occasionally made)," he says, before describing it as "a 'kind' of dance music".
This record is Whitman's second release for Editions Mego this year following the free-flowing Generators. Like that album, this one was recorded live, and begins with Whitman tooling away with some of the shrill electronics that emerged at the close of "High Zero Generator" from Generators. The crowd chatter that drifts across his work is another aspect that binds both Mego albums, adding a feeling of closeness that rarely surfaces in live electronic recordings. When "Occlusion (Rue de Bitche)" starts up it makes it easier to conjure up the scene in your head, with glasses clinking at the bar, conversations trailing to a close, attentions gradually flickering toward the stage. Both recordings here were made in February 2012, but at two separate locations at festivals in France and the Netherlands, with Whitman admitting he was "mildly inebriated" for the first and in a state of "arbitrarily triggered blind rage" for the second.
Those altered states clearly separate this recording from Generators, making it sound like Whitman took that work and fed it through a cheese-grater for 36 minutes. The gentle oscillations of "Issue Generator (for Eliane Radigue)" are nowhere to be found, although some of the sounds and textures deployed do orbit the same universe. "Occlusion (Rue de Bitche)" is Whitman hacking away at his modular set-up in the most violent way imaginable, like he's entering into battle with the machinery. It's telling that the audience is deathly quiet when a moment of calm is chopped into the track around the seven-minute mark. That might have been an aesthetic choice, with Whitman deliberately fading out the chatter after the fact, or perhaps the audience was genuinely stunned into silence. It's more fun to imagine it's the latter, because this is the kind of confrontational performance that deserves to have mouths gaping open, awe-struck by the sight of a musician so thoroughly ripping apart his own world.
"Occlusion (Weteringschans)" is a continuation of that theme, blending seamlessly with the preceding track despite the shift in time and space to a new location. Here, things disintegrate even further, with Whitman's entire palette sounding so fractured that it's hard to discern whether it's man or machine in control or where it's all heading. But the lack of any clear direction is the most fascinating aspect of Occlusions. When each track simmers into silence, it's impossible to determine what kind of color it's going to fracture into after the break, with Whitman instead setting off on an open-ended journey with shards of electronics exploding in his face. Most of his work isn't exactly easy listening, but this album is more challenging than most. There's always a nagging feeling that a truckload of piercing, sinewy noise is about to sear your synapses, even when "Occlusion (Weteringschans)" settles into the kind of solid groove Whitman claims to be working against. After that moment passes and Occlusions is over it feels like your whole body has gone through a much needed cleanse, leaving every atom slightly rearranged in the process.
