#deviant pop

For me, one of the most exciting discoveries of 2020 was RR GEMS, an imprint based in Estonia releasing high quality vinyl pressings of free jazz, psychedelia, and much else besides (who happened to put out one of my favorite LPs of recent memory in Soft Power’s Brink of Extinction). But the discovery was even richer than I imagined, for RR GEMS is also closely related to another label—the esoterically inclined Hidden Harmony Recordings. Debuting last year with C.R. Gillespie’s Concentration Patterns, Hidden Harmony then went on to release Conservatory of Flowers by Maria Teriaeva, and 8 by Morita Vargas—each one of these records a completely singular sonic experience exploring captivating textures closer to the fourth world, with meditative ambient, deviant pop, leftfield dance, new age minimalism, and electro-acoustic experimentation all intermingling. As well, the label has established a unique and visually striking aesthetic, presenting their deluxe pressings in framed outer sleeves, which then encase combinations of hallucinogenic nature photography, portraiture, and graphic design. Of the Hidden Harmony’s releases so far, I was particularly taken aback by the respective works of Teriaeva and Vargas, and I plan to write about each of their albums in the coming weeks, starting with Vargas’ 8.

Morita Vargas is an experimental artist from Buenos Aires, and she has been sowing and growing the seeds of 8 since 2014, when she used a phone to document various vocal snippets while wandering the cityscape. Over the years, these early sketches were enhanced by woodwinds, world percussions, mallet instruments, and a polychromatic palette of keys and synths, with the vocals themselves being treated to myriad manipulations both organic and electronic…mutating, modulating, and pitch-shifting into a psychedelic display of fairy spells, pixie incantations, diva flights, secretive whispers, breathy chants, and hypnotizing turns of phrase. It’s all rendered through mysterious languages of the artists’ own creation, and the performances serve to illuminate themes relating to death, transformation, and rebirth—which further tie into the numerological significance of the title, as the number 8 symbolizes “the transition between heaven and earth, and the illumination of our capacity for various metamorphoses.” The end result is an album of melancholic resonance and joyous warmth; of new age naturalism and tropical fever dreaming; of childlike flights through fantasy forests and forbidden visions of ancient rituals; and of sensual body motions and dances lost to hedonistic ecstasy.

Morita Vargas - 8 (Hidden Harmony Recordings, 2020) At the start of “Bernisa,” synthesized arpeggios sparkle like gemstones while birds sing in the distance, resulting in a new age lullaby imbued with a certain esoteric spirt. Melodies flow through key changes that portend hope and sorrow at once, with further keyboard layers chiming in counterpoint. As everything reduces, whispering chords pan softly, understated leads constructed from glowing glass drop onto the mix, and after an expanse of mid-bass meditation, the birdcalls return, bringing with them kosmische arps and a cascade of jazzy keyboard solos…with the minimalist structures and mysterious melodies evoking both Steve Reich and Beverly Glenn-Copeland. Massive sub bass motions rattle the soul in “Paitice,” while shakers and woodblocks dance through clouds of reverb. Vargas’ vocals are shrouded in dark layers of smoke as they move through druidic incantations, and the vibe is akin to some shamanic ceremonial. Gothic choirs are lost in the jungle…their minds entranced by strange perfumes from tropical flowers, causing their deep and soulful arias to move towards psycho-activation. The mysterious incantations are tempered by ecstatic whispers and hyperventilating chants that raise the hair on the back of the neck, with the vocals becoming their own sort of percussion that both works for and against the subsonic tribal basslines, and the snapping shakers and tones of tapped wood. The chorale cascades seem to vaporize as the track progresses, becoming ever more distant—as if heard through a thick pearlescent fog—and towards the end, pitch-shifting pixie voices generate a hypnotizing strain of a cappella psychedelia, with looping phrases overtaken by hiss and sibilance, until the whole thing resembles some abstract minimalist sound sculpture.

“XOXOXOXO” begins with mechanized tribal rhythms like robots scoring a shadowy rainforest ritual. Telephonic synths and blasted space electronics pan as ethereal vocals diffuse into the stereo field…these epic waves of oceanic wonderment overlaid by sensual coos and breaths. Further layers of rhythm enter the scene, creative captivating polyrhythms that only enhance the vibe of low slung dancefloor swagger. During a momentary respite, the beats fade, leaving space for desperate vocalizations and spare piano notes to float in the abyss, with long howling decay trails smothered in reverberation. The technoid tribal drums eventually return, as do the ethereal wavefronts of vocal warmth, and everything grows progressively wilder…almost like some feral scream towards the sky. Next comes “Deysa” and its synthesized bubble forms pulsating against counterpoint percolations. Its another expanse of Reich-ian minimalist sorcery that soon gives way to a playfully bouncing sequential ascent…as if the mind is racing up and down some corridor constructed of rainbow light. Amorphous angel voices sing with abandon and at times erupt towards the animalistic, while whispered refrains and sparse idiophone melodies dazzle the mind. The track snaps back toward magical minimalism briefly, before breaking again towards childlike kosmische, with voices growing increasingly adventurous and almost completely abandoning the racing synthesizer sequences, floating instead into a parallel dimension. Suddenly, a fairy chants fantastical spells of mysterious origin, and is soon supported by a stuttering hypno-beat, one where hand drums pound maniacally and only just  hold to a tempo. All the while, the vocals smear into a spectral shriek as the heart races towards ecstasy, and eventually, a burst of bass washes the mix clean. The A-side closes with “Aguila” and its foamy pads stretching out like layers of cotton candy. Space age brass synths sing triumphant songs while mallet instruments sparkle overheard, their melodies and tones eventually reversing in time, creating mirage shimmers and showers of golden glitter. Vargas then abruptly transitions the track into a sequential dream sequence, with softened synth melodies cycling at hyperspeed...almost like a lullaby induction into a world of sleep-induced fantasy.

Opening the B-side is “Gargantsa,” which features angular basslines evoking a pitched down clavinet. Further funky keyboard layers dance aside the mutant bass movements and a four-four kick drum drops, transforming the track into a slab of minimal club euphoria. Vargas chants over it all like some diva of destiny, with sensual coos and whispered secrets threading together, and occasionally shifting down into syrupy sexuality. During certain stretches, the mix reduces to just voice and kick drum, and each and every looped phrased serves to entice the body and spirit deeper into dancefloor delirium. The groove continually shifts and evolves as insectoid fx and feedback tracers track the hypnotizing house beats, and as we move deeper into Vargas’ spell, the vibe is like being transported to some hidden nightclub in the middle of a sweltering rain forest, with roof open to the moon and shadow-shrouded bodies gyrating in ecstasy. “Devonte” comes next, wherein new age piano inactions evoke the movements of celestial oceans. Whispered poetry enters alongside a pounding rhythm, bell trees sparkle like stars on the surface of the sea, and Vargas’ voice grows increasingly strange and desperate as the song spaces further and further out. Droning soul chords underly pitch-shifting babbles while post-punk basslines chug alongside kick drums beneath a blanket of dub reverb. And then suddenly, we return to the mysterious piano ambiance, and to visages of waves washing beneath a canopy of starshine.

Woven webs of acoustic guitar splay out through echo machines in “Oly,” and demonic voices bubble up through mist, with tones rattling all around the periphery. Kalimbas glow and tambourines shake freely before locking into a mesmeric rhythm, which works against pulsating delay patterns. Voices both mysterious and sinister wash across the mix like granular clouds of noise, yet any harshness is tempered by the acoustic guitars, which are as soothing as they are abstract. Whistles emerge to wash away the mix, sparse folk melodies intermingle with field recordings in the distance, and by the end, Vargas’ voice devolves into infantile chatter. In “I feel lost,” dreamscape ivory arpeggios swim up and down the scale as ethereal melodies sing in support…the whole thing not unlike some early Mogwai interlude (think “Radar Maker” from Young Team). A synthesized string sections transforms the vibe towards post-classical fantasia, with harmonious chord strokes working together with fluttering minimalist melodies. At some point the layers of immersive ambiance recede, leaving again the mutating piano conversations, and when Vargas brings in the sighing strings, there are shades of Godspeed You! Black Emeperor—even as subtle jazz leads cluster together. “Ginseng” ends the experience, and sees an electric piano singing alien songs while idiophones play sparsely in support. Electronics like blinding whistle tones filter into the spectrum as the keys mutate towards smoldering drone clouds and through it all, chime trees shine and sparkle. The pianos mostly fade into obscurity, supplying only understated textures of ecclesiastical enchantment as we walk further and further into some tropical jungle, with radiant currents of light bathing the body and reverb kissing every singly sound. Some strange forest drum ceremonial proceeds far away as the trip grows increasingly psychedelic, with Vargas’ musings evoking mystical nature spirits as they enchant the soul deeper and deeper into a lost paradise.

Nonobstant - Jessica - Music From Memory keeps digging up gems; this forthcoming comp will likely be essential listening

I’ve been sitting with this one for a few weeks, taking time to reflect on the scope and magic of the music, and on our collective luck in having Raphaël Top-Secret and Jamie Tiller dig up all these wonderful treasures. In releasing Uneven Paths: Deviant Pop from Europe 1980-1991, Music From Memory have done for avant-garde and weirdo European pop what they did for outsider Brazilian kosmische/ambient with Outro Tempo, unearthing hitherto unexplored scenes and giving some long deserved appreciation to artists and songs that were almost lost to the sands of time. The LP packaging is marvelous and includes interesting historical information in the liner notes, some of it nigh unbelievable, that helps establish context and even a narrative for these sonic gems and how they were (re)discovered. And it has been fascinating reading other reviews and seeing the huge variation in what people like and don’t like, which speaks to the incredible range and eclecticism of the music. I have my own preferences of course, and this is reflected in the fact that I chose only to review three or four of my favorite songs from each side. But the whole journey is worthwhile and each song is necessary to gain the full picture of this nearly lost era of popular music.

Uneven Paths: Deviant Pop from Europe 1980-1991 (Music from Memory, 2018) Nightfall in Camp’s “Cada Día” is the perfect introduction, built from soft chords, a slow machine beat, and harmonically rich noise textures. The vocals are softly spoken, and meditative flute adds to the horizontal feel…everything floating in deep blue water. Tony Hymas’s “Pictures of Departure” starts with airport samples, hypnotic tropical mallet instruments, and deep soothing vocals speaking of mundane and melancholy travel experiences. Then almost out of nowhere, we drop into these neon lit downtempo bliss-outs with pounding drums, romantic and dreamy looped vocals, and climactic glossy synthesizers. It sounds remarkably like Chromatics, only decades earlier. Two of the compilation’s more anthemic cuts come at the end of the A-side, starting with “Listen Over the Ocean” by Violet Eves. Sitting somewhere between dark Portishead epicness in the low slung downbeat groove and that Siouxsie Sioux post-punk fire in the vocals, we have vibraphone dropping cool crystalline atmospherics aside melodramatic strings and glassy guitar. And Miko & Mubare’s “Komoma Ya-Ya-Ya” prowls on a mysterious groove, swaggering, dark, and hypnotic, as squelchy bass synth trades off martial riffs with bluesy psych guitar. It’s super rhythmic and vibin’, especially once the ritualistic chanting enters, celestial and atmospheric, before climaxing with a minimal downtempo nod-out and deep vocals imploring…demanding…”we all must speak in one tongue!”

Perhaps my favorite moment comes during the B-side, with John Makin & Friends’ “No Lie”. Starting on lilting psychfolk chords, an airy rhythm, and acid soaked fuzz soloing, this could easily be some lost Smith & Mudd track (think “Dogwood” from Gorthleck). Yet once the vocals enter, we shift back a few decades to the wide-eyed California infused folk-rock of Morrison Kincannon. Sparkling and kaleidoscopic guitar interplay, smooth electric piano, lyrics of lost love, and a totally freaked out echo guitar solo…brilliant. Elsewhere, the club vibrations are notched up. Nonobstant’s “Jessica” features smooth jammy electric piano over a stuttering and stoned funk swing, bass in stomping ascent, drums sizzling on hats and snare. The vocals are infectious, sometimes soaring over the mix, other times following the rhythm mesmerically. At times, the singing drops out, giving way to jammy sections of dueling guitar and electric piano soloing. Then there is the Kraftwerkian electro-boogie glory of “Depression” by Sound On Sound. Pocket calculator synthesizers blaze with sci-fi flare over a propulsive groove, accented by brass fanfares and catchy midnight diva chanting. The drums are cavernous and pounding, surrounded by bongos, sparkling chimes, and tropical mallets, everything working towards balearic dancefloor fire.

Side C starts off in a jazz leaning afro-groove with “What You Are” by Pete Brandt’s Method. Plucked contrabass ambulates over a hypnotic hand percussion shuffle, the mix embellished with moody organ chords, cinematic strings, sax solos, and fragile multi-tracked vocals. “Tambo Machay” by Lost Gringos seems like it could fit on any number of the amazing African/Middle Eastern psych records unearthed by Sublime Frequencies, yet it’s just a couple of German weirdos jamming away. The drum groove is primitive and esoteric, as playful stoned vocals and Floydian blues riffing alternate with furious and exotic Omar Khorshid surf guitar shredding. This side also has Brenda & The Beachballs’ “Dancing’ Thru the Night”. This is a highlight of the whole comp for me, featuring a body moving electro-boogie beat, fluttering melodica spaciness, and Brenda’s vibed out atmospheric vocals. There are spacefunk guitars with psychedelic echo trails firing through the mix as the hypnobass and cosmic fx swirl around the body-moving rhythms. And in a similar mode, though decidedly more sexual and sleazy, is Patrick Forgas’ “Sex Move”. Deep vocals, up front and too familiar, sit atop bright riffing guitars, a pounding bassline, and vibrant funk rhythmics. Late night string synths generate atmosphere as noir saxophone and epic brass themes ring out, joined by sci-fi pads and liquid spaceguitar.

Though it’s the penultimate track, Härte 10’s “Happy New Year” could easily work as an epic closer. After starting with playful tribal echo drums, weird vocoder effects, and airy distorted piano, we take a triumphant turn towards the ecstatic as sleigh bells and starlight chimes float with kaleidoscopic piano and majestic choral synthesizers. It’s like some optimistic march towards the heavens, totally earning its name. “The Whole City Between Us” by Bill Nelson’s Orchestra Arcana is similarly blissed out. Shimmering new age harp tones generate colorful fantasy atmospheres over a gated hard-hitting beat and sunshine electronics. There is something almost Broadcast-like in the childlike-yet-psychedelic nature of the melodies. One of the comp’s most balearic moments comes via Xavier Jouvelet’s “Oeuf en Clock”. This is a strange downtempo fusion odyssey, mixing organic and electronic textures in captivating ways. Tick-tock electronic rhythmics are accented by earthy shakers and jazz cymbals, vocal synthesizers solo alongside smokey and emotional soul singing, washes of mellow and oceanic pads underly bright splashes of aquatic electronics and shimmering chimes, and affecting Spanish guitar enters towards the second half, teasing out cinematic sunset warmth. And there is also the soulful buttery sax jam “Minéralité” by Lou Blic. The drums have a jaunty groove and occasionally we detour into weird sections of voice samples morphed into cerebral patterns alongside sparkly percussive effects, before returning to the head-nodding, blazing saxophone groove out.