There’s no exact English translation for the Greek phrase Κόγξ ὀμ πὰξ, though it has been repurposed by English occultist Aleister Crowley and by Italian composer-mystic Giacinto Scelsi. “Light in extension” or “Light rushing out in a single ray” is the rough translation of Konx-om-Pax, which is also the handle for animator, graphic designer and electronic music maker Tom Scholefield. Scholefield’s visuals have informed many artists over the years, be they as cover art for Oneohtrix Point Never and Rustie, videos for Mogwai and Hudson Mohawke, or as part of Lone’s live show.
His debut album Regional Surrealism was for the most part slow and downcast, but his four-years-in-the-making follow-up Caramel embodies the project name by embracing that notion of “light” in all its manifold meanings. As he recently stated in an interview, “this record was almost a therapy…an attempt to be aggressively positive.” It’s also about the flashing lights of the bygone rave era, and much like Jamie xx, Special Request, Lone et al., Scholefield approached his music as an homage and idealization of an era that ended well before he could experience it. As he admits in the same interview: “[It’s] kind of an imaginary nostalgia because I was just a kid at the time.”
That fantasia of rave’s lights and strobes informs Caramel. Like these aforementioned acts, it's not so much about replicating those sounds—much less the ferocious drum programming—but rather the faded tracers and cornea-seared after images that remain. So while there are beats and thumps embedded in Konx-om-Pax’s tracks, they are secondary to the neon hues that wiggle atop them, bright as gummy worms. That sense of distance can make a tape-hiss heavy track like “Video Club” sound like dance music going chillwave, its infomercial-style melody and laser sounds a bit too on-the-nose. But on “Perc Rave,” Scholefield changes up that strategy, dropping a lashing rhythm that would scan as furious, if it didn’t sound like it was emitted by a drum machine left by the side of the road to sputter.
Throughout, Konx-om-Pax toggles between the bliss of dance music and the visceral surge of noise, suggesting he’s taken the lessons of both Lone and Mogwai to heart. Some tracks even embrace that dichotomy: the first half of “Oren’s Theme” is a woozy loop of “ooo baby” as all manner of Aphex chimes blip about it. But just as it’s about to turn whimsical, belches of great noise overtake it, allowing just enough of those chimes back in to strike a balance. “Mega Glacial” suggests the Fairlights, Mallets and Bamboo mix as filtered through Boards of Canada’s murky melodicism.
Too often, the album’s melodies suggest end credits, so that you might mistake the album winding down even at the midway point. And sometimes when the drums rise in the mix, it’s not to move your body but more to remind you of the underlying theme, distracting from the other textures. But for all of the album’s moments of luminous noise and rave earmarks, Caramel is at its best in its quieter moments, with “At the Lake” and “Rainbow Bounce” layering arpeggiated melodies until they shimmer like oil on a puddle. It’s fitting that its most gorgeous track is entitled “Radiance.” Beatless but gridded by what sounds like gently stroked rebar, Scholefield layers these blurry sounds carefully, the effect not unlike sunrise after a rave has wound down, when dawn light imbues everything with its glow.
