Coppe’ :: Void (Mango + Sweetrice)

Void ventures into much darker terrain (for her) though, and for the first time the album actually sounds like it may have come at a time of personal strife which made the collection more of a chore to pull together, rather than Coppe’ merrily throwing ideas back and forth with her loyal band of collaborators like a game of volleyball.

To call something “Void” implies it is hollow, empty or invalid. So it is a little confusing at times to fathom why someone as vibrant, colorful and generous with her musical portion sizes as Coppe’ would call a bumper-sized 24 track collection by such a name (especially as I am sat here right now fondling the ridiculously luscious, spot-gloss gatefold wallet which houses not only a 22 track CD, but also an additional delicious 2 track 5″ sized actual vinyl.)

However, after 18 years, 14 albums and numerous collaborations with some of the Electronic world’s biggest players (Plaid, The Orb, DJ Vadim, Nobukazu Takemura, Atom™, Kettel to name but a few), Void instantly strikes the listener as an album of emotional highs and lows, woven together in a purposely sparing patchwork.

For anyone familiar with Coppe’, even when at her most BPM firing, amen-chucking aggressive, she’s still more adorable than a kitten in a slipper. But this is always brought into equilibrium with her trademark saccharine vocals, ambience and knack for a memorable (albeit often bonkers) lyrical hook. Since founding her Mango + Sweetrice label in 1995, she has made a career of giving Electronica an abundance of personality, humour, and a charming does of Japanese etiquette, without resorting to any Asian pop-culture clichés.

Void ventures into much darker terrain (for her) though, and for the first time the album actually sounds like it may have come at a time of personal strife which made the collection more of a chore to pull together, rather than Coppe’ merrily throwing ideas back and forth with her loyal band of collaborators like a game of volleyball.

New recruits to her band of collaborators on Void include the likes of Kit Clayton, Henry ‘Shitmat’ Collins, Jilk, and even renown lyricist, poet and author Chris Mosdell, who have all certainly helped stretch her sonic pallet like dough and knead it in to a unique tear & share bake.

Starting with a selection of eerie, wordless soundscapes (Kit Clayton’s dense “Introduction” and the minor key haunting of “Dismay”), the album’s title track finds its way to the front of the queue, and delivers its off-kilter anti-pop, as Coppe’ coos about the pros and cons of desiring someone out of reach amidst shuffling beats and raindrop like plinks and plonks.

“U Give Me A Heartache” restrains momentum for a moment longer as its heartbeat pulse and mantra-like lyrics keeps the burnt fingers feeling rolling. Just as you think Void is going tumble into a bleak, dark soup of sparse electronica, suddenly the bossa nova piano & IDM-pop of “Strawberry + Tuna” kick in and lifts the mood. While the vocals remain on the rather restrained side, the bounce and charm of the tracks production instantly unfold the album like an origami flower, and many different layers and shapes continue to unfold from here on.

The meditative, dreamlike pitch-shifting on “Figment Of Imagination,” and the gritty, sexier Arabic tones of “Underwater Fireworks” provide yin to such yangs as the angular modern jazz of “Azuki Bean Esspresso” and the blinding “He. Who. Me. Yo”—a track so dense and packed to the rafters with blinding IDM glitches (thanks to the lightning touches of collaborator, underground Japanese producer Nanonum), Autechre fans may be forgiven for thinking she’s making a conscious attempt to successfully rain on their parade.

Brooding, sombre moments such as a the cut & pasted piano-hymn “Introvert” co-produced by Jilk, the new wave of Henry Collin’s backdrop on “Sleeping Pill,” and the beautiful, sparkly balladry of “Swan Song” (with Chris Mosdell collaborating on lyrics), are all given a flip side to such tracks as the gentle sway of “Hadaly’s Waltz” (and its preceding “Rad Bacarrat Waltz” intro), the hazy dub of “Only U!” and the unashamed midi-pop of “Fire + Ice,” with Coppe’ tearing through her usual whispers for an all-out pelt.

Gluing them all together are a selection of ambient, spooky interludes such as “Akira” (made from the sound of her pregnant friends ultrasound scan) and “Mama + Coppe’ Duet”, which finds mother and daughter in a surprisingly dark guttural exchange of traditional chant over a claustrophobic backdrop of a drippy basement sounds.

Throw in a few extra surprises such as producer & rapper Luna 9 taking centre stage on “Golden Crushes” as Coppe’ whispers seductively behind him over a fine slice of glitch-hop (recalling the glory days of late 90s Funkstörung), and you have a 22 track album that pretty much covers all bases without losing sight of its agenda or heart.

When you’ve stopped yourself from stroking the 5″ vinyl long enough to actually play it, Side B presents more sparkly meditative IDM ambience with Cai Murphy on “Liquid Brain.” But it’s Side A that presents the biggest surprise of all. An all-out acoustic, guitar rendition of the classic jazz standard, “I Fall In Love Too Easily.” While it purposely fades into a cacophony of vinyl crackles just to mess with your ears when on the turntable, it’s a heartbreaking rendition and a welcome reminder of what a powerful, rich tone Coppe’ possess behind all the usual effects pedals and kaos pads.

Any album longer than 45 minutes or 10 tracks these days is pretty much written off as too long or too demanding on all that precious time of ours spent shuffling our playlists. While Void‘s total 24 tracks may seem like a slog initially, by dividing the CD up into neat categories of tracks, no song being longer than 4:30 and giving us an actual vinyl we need to manually play like the old days to complete the experience, one can’t help but be seduced into taking the time to pour over the vast but digestible contents.

By also turning a plain white sleeve into a sexy little collectors set with only the gloss varnish itself shaping the design of the album’s logo, it’s another crafty ploy to expose all the colorful booty within the void. Sonically and literally, it is her “White Album.”

To newcomers, it is easy to hear why she has frequently been dubbed “The lost daughter of Björk & Aphex Twin” or “Godmother of Japanese Electronica.” But regardless of comparisons or marketing taglines, releases of this scale in generosity and scope are increasingly rare and rightfully earn to be cherished.

While Coppe’ may be one of the few women in the world proudly keeping the 90s IDM vibe steaming ahead into the 21st century, her charisma and wide-eyed approach to any sub-genre make for a welcome detour into her universe. It is a place where the digital & analogue, Green & Blue and Strawberry & Tuna all make for delicious and logical counterparts, and where even a plain white void can make for a bonkers, beautiful and entrancing 65 minutes.

Void is available on Mango + Sweetrice.