Cadoo turns in some of his most breathtaking work, which masterfully delivers that sublime admixture of beauty and harshness.
This is a tough review to write. It’s not so much the musical content of The Blur Vent, but the emotional context surrounding it. I’d assert that no other artist is as closely associated with Igloo Magazine as is Mike Cadoo. From the deep archives of admiring reviews we’ve submitted for artists on his n5MD label’s roster to the long-standing theme song—which recently switched as of Jan/2014—of Igloo-in-Chief Pietro’s Digital::Nimbus radio show, there’s a delicate symbiosis that originated with and nurtured by sympathetic resonance in our shared aesthetic sensibilities.
Over the years, Cadoo has created seminal industrial/IDM crossover as half of Gridlock (with Mike Wells), voyaged through ambient and shoegaze as Bitcrush, and very occasionally delivered music that didn’t fit elsewhere as this album’s pseudonym, Dryft. As the artist’s promo page describes, Cadoo’s output as Dryft has ranged from 2000’s drum-n-bass influenced Cell to hard-edged noisy workouts like Ventricle‘s killer “Knives as Gifts.”
So the combination of this close association and an unpredictable sonic direction lent a note of apprehension to my excitement upon hearing a new Dryft release was on the way, and that I would have the opportunity to write about it. While it seemed unlikely that Cadoo would use the album to express a previously unheard boy-band bubblegum pop sound, I confess that the spacier Bitcrush material like 2012’s Collapse is not my particular cup of tea. Would I have the guts to turn in a less-than-glowing review if The Blur Vent tread that ground? Would Pietro run it if I did?
Luckily, (sighs of relief all around) I needn’t have worried. Although there are some down-tempo moments, they are solid, lovely songs which provide breathing room between the more upbeat tracks. And among the latter category, Cadoo turns in some of his most breathtaking work, which masterfully delivers that sublime admixture of beauty and harshness which forms the backbone of the vibe we seek.
You wouldn’t guess it at first, though. “Capsize Ctrl” opens the album with soft synth throbs and crashing static, swelling ominously until halfway through its length when it goes completely silent for a moment. On first listen, I held my breath through this fermata, aware that what followed would signify the album’s intent—and, bang, Dryft delivers the goods. A deep, propulsive bassline and layers of synthetic strings surround a percussive groove that borrows from dubstep’s lurch and swagger. “Czalyon” enters next and immediately raises the menace to planetary threat level orange with a nasty, snarling low end and metallic clamor; many an artist would leave it at that, but Cadoo plays these elements against the forces of light, represented by a shimmering veil of synthetic texture.
“B.Prof” leads with the other foot first: an ethereal string section holding long, sustained notes. If this were Bitcrush, I’d expect echoed guitar and live drums would build layer upon gauzy layer. But no, it’s Dryft, so instead we get a righteous electro-tinged 808 drumline, and then the echoed guitars. I kid; there’s little bombast and a lot of body rock going on here, especially in the final two-minute runout. “These Walls” follows with the first of the down-tempo tracks I alluded to earlier; there’s a very pleasant piano melody and a drag beat that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Tri-Angle records release, but despite the indecipherable vocals the effect is a little too well-mannered to be convincing. “Blue Windows” extends the hypnagogic reverie; I found myself focusing on the bubbling bass to pull me through. But it’s a mere three minutes, a transition into the second half of the album.
Which “The Long Four (Extended)” kicks off with a severely effected guitar, like Sigur Rós’ Jónsi jamming with an e-bow in the International Space Station, and this is where I started to doubt whether the album had dryft-ed off irretrievably. But just past the two minute mark, Cadoo reintroduces the darkness: a pummeling snare hit vies for supremacy over deep, wobbling bass, then both recede for a long ambient outro, presumably the origin of the parenthetical “extendedd” in the title.
“Slow Jimmy” is indeed slo-o-o-w, opening with deep bass/snare hits at somewhere south of 40bpm and an arpeggiated guitar line that would not sound out of place on a Hammock release. Even when the beat double-times it’s still pretty slow, but as I cast off my expectations of every track being a neo-industrial crusher, I can relax and enjoy the mood. “Like Falling” succeeds at the witchy, Holy Other-esque vibe where “These Walls” didn’t. The moody, hugely reverberated vocals and slight distortion on the bassline feel just exactly right; they point towards a new direction for Cadoo that’s an elegant melding of his analogue and digital personae.
Finally, finally, the capstone of the album, the title track “The Blur Vent.” This track, for me, is what lifts this album firmly into the god tier; it pulls together all of Cadoo’s stylistic elements a more-than-the-sum whole. There’s a little vocal work, some unearthly synthesizers, then a heavy-hitting bass throb and drumline, which intensify after the bridge with the addition of a little guitar and a double-time snare… then the last minute simply explodes into ecstatic dancefloor-friendly 4/4 exuberance.
So nice to have you back, Mike.
The Blur Vent is available on n5MD.
