Seven Succulents is probably KiloWatts’ most accomplished work to date, an impressive achievement given his uniformly excellent back catalog.
Imagine, if you will, that you’re as stupid as I am for having drifted through life without ever being aware of the existence of the music of KiloWatts. Are… are you imagining that? Excellent. Isn’t it shaming? Don’t you just feel terrible? Right, now stop it at once and tab forthwith to the KiloWatts Bandcamp site and immediately start listening to everything he’s done. Then buy it. You probably won’t even need to come back and read this review in order for me to convince you, although it would be nice if you did.
Jamie Watts has been releasing, remixing and producing since 2002, and these days largely self-releases his own work via Bandcamp, often in beautiful physical CD editions, the last of which—the uniformly magnificent Acceptitude he got successfully Kickstarted.
Seven Succulents is touted as a themed “sequel” of sorts to 2009’s Six Silicates, this time inspired by those genera of fleshy—often desert-dwelling—plants that store larger than normal amounts of water. Regardless of how rooted in or connected to that subject matter the music itself actually, the diverse track titles do indeed all refer to a particular species of succulent, each of which is depicted on the colorful, early Designers Republic style artwork that accompanies the release. Of course, when the end product is as inspired, amiable, and immaculately produced as this it ultimately doesn’t matter
A more memorable start to an album than “Euphorbia” it’s hard to imagine; the opening flashes of sound dazzle like the flashing reflections of the sun in a moving mirror, and the copper-colored keys have an easy familiarity and welcoming tonality. Watts is ably supported by a number of additional players on Seven Succulents, perhaps the most crucial of whom is Mike Greenfield whose vivacious live drums immediately establish themselves as a key factor in the track’s overwhelming success. Complemented perfectly by Watt’s gurgling FX and sauntering synths, “Euphorbia” is an uplifting, free-wheeling journey through picturesque landscapes teeming with life, Watts’ Hauschka-esque piano sequences eliciting feelings of elation and euphoria through carefree travel. Sheer perfection.
The gurgle and rumble of “Gollum Fingers,” with its tumbling piano, insistent bass growl, background quacking and Kettel-esque synth riffs also retain a colorful approach to rhythm and percussion that peppers both this and other tracks with quirky breaks and riffs that can’t fail to raise a smile. “Mother Of Thousands” features Watts’ vocal talents, and he has very kindly posted the lyrics to the track so you can appreciate its full meaning. There’s a kind of glowing Americana present here, together with a bounce and spring that recalls Double Figure Plaid.
“Coppertone” is a squeaky-clean, matte laminated slice of Kompakt techno, fueled by an oompa-ommpa vibe that has characterized the best recent work by Thomas Fehlmann, both in and outside of The Orb (think Baghdad Batteries or Gute Luft). While Watts’ exquisite production and immaculate timing are more than sufficient to prevent other tracks from being diminished or made conspicuous by the absence of Greenfield’s drums, they are nevertheless so beautifully instinctive that their presence undeniably elevates every track on which they appear, that genuine feeling of a live performance enhancing Watts’ electronic flourishes and playful melodies no end.
“Liveforever” then blends live piano with Samuel Wexler’s violin for a pirouetting take on modern classical that fits in with the rest of the album by couching it in bouts of spiraling, Plaid-style synth keys and off-kilter melodies. To say that everything works in concert together is even something of an understatement, as I haven’t heard musicians clearly sparking off one-another so well even on the finest of modern classical improvisations.
“Zwartkop” references a succulent also sometimes known as the Black Rose, its thick, ruddy petals exploding outwards like a dark firework (I have one myself actually) and is a particular collaborative tour-de-force. Featuring the eclectic clattering percussion of the “We’re Home Family Drum Brigade” (essentially nine of Watts’ close friends jamming in his living room), this is a slow to boil slave to rhythm that builds in intensity across eight and half eventful minutes and features more piano, synth squiggles and latterly a gorgeously 70’s flute solo by Timmayo Sheehan accompanied by more vocals. And then it’s just the laid back glassy bubbles of “Living Stones” to close out the album.
Seven Succulents is probably KiloWatts’ most accomplished work to date, an impressive achievement given his uniformly excellent back catalog. If you’re into Kettel, Plaid or indeed any similarly eccentric, quirky artist that likes to bend and blend genres, you need KiloWatts in your life. This is some of the finest music 2014 has yet to offer.
Seven Succulents is available on the KiloWatts Music Bandcamp site.
