Squeaks and hisses. But also beautiful melodies. Vert doesn’t believe
in making it to easy for the listener, but those who get past the
unconventional sounds are richly rewarded. Nine Types of Ambiguity
contains nine tracks of electronic walks along the beach, over the
garbage dump, into the abandoned amusement park. You could interpret
the titles as if Adam Butler had mostly done the album because he was
bored (“The tide comes in and then the tide goes out”, “Somewhere
between here and last week”, for example), but I think that would be
a serious mistake. Vert puts all of his classical training into the
songs, and the result can be likened to a cross between Peter
Greenaway, Steve Reich and Vladislav Delay. Themes that are repeated
and mutated. “Last night from a buss I saw” starts with a fragmented
poem, continues with a fine, somewhat melancholic piano piece,
disappears into a distorted crescendo, and emerges into an uplifting
piece with concertina. Sometimes almost ambient, sometimes with a
breakbeat, Vert’s album won’t leave the listener indifferent.
