Third Person :: Third Person (R&S)

For over four decades, R&S Records has built its reputation on championing music that redraws the boundaries of electronic sound, making Third Person‘s remarkable debut feel less like a surprise than the label’s latest leap into the unknown.

Third Person rewrites R&S history

 

R &S Records was a cornerstone in forward-leaning techno from 1983 to 2000, pressing significant releases from legends Dave Angel, Joey Beltram, Ken Ishii, Model 500/Juan Atkins, Aphex Twin and many others, early in their careers. After an 8-year hiatus, the label relaunched in London with artists like Lone, Special Request, Nicholas Jaar and Djrum expanding the aesthetic. R&S’s iconic logo of the dancing horse was getting new grooves for its’ hooves.

It is apt therefore that Third Person recently kicked through the door with a stunning self-titled debut; a techno hybrid of soundtrack jazz harnessed with bubbling synths, acid bop, and a groove that feels its way across a full spectrum of influence.

An album of this nature might have been less surprising on a label like Ninja Tune, where bands like Cinematic Orchestra, Floating Points or Up, Bustle and Out have long feasted on the woodsmoke of futurist jazz and coffee-shop congas. Here, the eponymous release is a daring statement for R&S, and a leap into the unknown.

Speaking of unknown, the label is reluctant to reveal Third Person’s identity on official channels, but a rudimentary web search points to one Sante “Santos” Pucello, Italian DJ and musician. Historically, Santos concentrates on house, big beat and classic club trappings, so this hard-left into unexpected territory feels like a paradigm shift; like the moment Dylan went electric.

As for the jazz influence on 3P, it should be noted that the bones have been dipped in the sauce as well. This is not simply a decorative sprinkling of horn stabs and upright bass to reach another demographic of consumers. It is not a house beat glued to an otherwise untarnished jazz standard, nor a mixtape showcase for a producer flipping through a vault of masters. This is a singular voice. While there are plenty of samples woven throughout the album, Third Person packs them into the sediment and masterfully rides the bumps—fearless and untethered. Imagine Ornette Coleman and The Orb having a dance battle on the neon shores of Ibiza.

“Person One” jumps out of the gate with a percolating, dizzying frenzy of brushwork, stray horn passages and distorted key stabs. It’s a sound collage on a tight leash; one that sets the stage for what’s to come. “Person Two” swings relentlessly through the scaffolding to construct a skyscraper of reflective chords and hypnotic energy. “Person Three” is a bustling marketplace of urgent bartering between driving latin rhythms and key-horns of the Middle East. The floor is lava and the walls are hot with live embers.

The sound of open horizons ::

“Person Seven” unfolds with a fizzy, pulsing menace like classic R&S minimal techno—before the flute and upright bass sneak through the side entrance. Percussive organica breezes in like vapor, only to evaporate again in the blacklight. “Person Six” is an epic, 11+ minute travelogue of tropical nightclubs, paper lanterns and sidewalk hallucinations. The listener stays caught in the grip of an open hand; dazed and enlightened. “Person Four” is a raw nerve of circuitry, slowly twisting upwards through the greenhouse roof and into a ‘glitches brew’ of acid 70’s jazz fusion. This is a highly carbonated affair, likely to give sore necks from all the head-bobbing. “Person Five” slinks through the city with a purple breeze of poly-harmonized vocals and halftime chords, rubbing knuckles over a circuit board of rez’d rhythms. It’s an after-hours Underworld backing alt-horn wizard Jon Hassell in melancholy meditation. The album’s closer, “Planetary,” is an ethnomusicologist’s gift bag; a bounce-beat of airy, pocket-sized chords dance about while a moped chase ensues through the streets of Morocco. The percussion rig and vocal chants jump out as spectators from the side streets, with Agent Santos hot in pursuit.

This is an organic album of electronica; the synths and cables are overgrown with vines and red moss, with LED beetles creeping along the surface. These eight tracks take their time to explore and evolve rather than take shortcuts, making the trip infinitely more satisfying. Listeners get the sense that Third Person is both tour guide and fellow passenger. The album is significant because it doesn’t represent the austere history of R&S —it fits the open road ahead.

The new essential.

Third Person is available on R&S. [Bandcamp]