Roberto Carlos Lange
has enough pseudonyms to fly with a group killa bees on a swarm. Yet
he is no bee. As a matter of fact Lange is entirely human; so far as
the author is able to tell at the time of his writing this sentence.
And despite the already noticeable lack of entomological characters,
I have no qualm saying that when listening to any Lange/Epstein/half
an OMBRE/Helado
Negro “You are watching a masta at work.”
After
all, this is only half the fun. Just because the man commonly known
as Helado Negro is a human that makes contently gentle tunes does not
make him a modern day hippy. Nein.
The being behind the mythical black frozen dairy curtain is an
auteur;
straight
up, this is the work of an artist. Lange is able to translate the
plastic arts into music. This not a, however, a comment on the
quality or merit of the music so much as an observation on the
attitude and presentation; the just overall vibe. Each song on an
Helado Negro album gives the impression of being a fully thought out
and organized concept rather than a hastily recorded idea following
a spark from the lightning strike of inspiration. Which is to say:
every track carries with it an Escherian quality. What has been
learned since the last sketch? What new manner of looking at a
familiar sight, or hearing a sound, will the listener be exposed to?
An intersection of science and art without sounding excessively
academic; but that is what the creator's strong aesthetic
sensibilities are for. After all, as it is written in the Invisible
Life's
liner notes by Sara Padgett, “Between
all these lines and in the space between each of us is the definition
of Invisible Life. It's that space where we sit and figure things
out.”
Without waxing poetic
for too long, as much to a certain point I lack the sufficient
linguistic aptitude to express myself: Roberto Carlos Lange gets
“it;” how to make “it.” The joy that comes with every new
entry in this man' canon is simply finding out how far he has chosen
to take “it,” this time around.
[REVIEW]
Sure, by this portion
in the entry anyone who is still present bears an admirable
receptiveness to anything, dare I say, different. Yet caveat is
noted: this is music to be listened to with an open mind.
This
records was listened to twice before the writing of this review (so I
impart that advice with not so extensive credentials).
The
record begins with the soundtrack to an Aphex Twin night-terror.
Although this may sound like a blatant exaggeration and a needless
comparison, consider the first spoken words are, “"Ilumina tu
voz con rayo x / Estas que bailas en tu cerebro (Illuminate your
voice with x-rays / You're in a state of dancing in your brain).”
Destructively small sample size, yes, but with this first song a
series of projections can be made. One, these are tunes with a
surprisingly traditional song structure – Verse → chorus →
verse → bridge, etc. – because the unorthodoxy lies within.
Take note that the line quotesd above is about half the spoken part
of first song. Lyrics throughout Invisible
Life are
economically
conservative; enviably succinct and strikingly effective. Emphasis
and effect are reached through repetition and syllable
pronunciations. Second, the voice is inseparable from the song. As a
zen teacher might say more eloquently: a coin is not whole with only
one side. Neither the music, nor the singing, is identical without
the other to accompany it. Unfortunately this makes easy to overlook
how good a singer Lange truly is, as can be heard in his vivacious
vibrato during “Cuentas.”
“Lentamente,”
the second song is a choice cut emphasize both these points. The
first twenty seconds of this six and a half minute track could be
intimidating to a neophyte by the sheer virtue of all that is
occurring. Disparate percussion meets static and tape effects while
doting keys mingle in the vicinity of some whistling. By no means
anarchic, but to say this music is subdued may give the impression
that it is uneventful. Not the case. To the contrary, this is very
busy music and any singing (exclusively Lange save for “Arboles”
and “Junes”) serves as a chaperone; a frequent reminder that
there is a very present human element to these sonic creations. The
voice provides an anchor in an technological abyss that may seem
inescapable at first (as in the interlude between 1:27 and 2:04 or
the banger seeking refuge near 5:45) but is really just a room full
of optical illusions.
And
what of the attractive qualities? As with 2012's Island
Universe Story One,
plenty of accessible influences are revealed. Lange, as it were, has
been blessed with an extraordinary sense of funk. Among the hints of
Latin American sounds, experimental electronics, and indie
sensibilities, Helado Negro's music is funky in the vein of surprise.
For all the heady qualities of lyrics akin to psychedelic philosophy
(“So count your steps, there’s more chances / When you add it all
up") and surreal brain movies (“There’s no one home / Just
the ghosts who dance alone...”); for all the nuances in 4.5 songs
in English and 5.5 in spanish, the funk is provided at will and
without the slightest hint strain. “Dance with Ghosts” is
formidable in this sense: at 1:37 (after running through all the
song's spoken words...twice) a synth-line makes a statement sounding
a lot like “Everybody's
got a little light under the sun,” just not in so many literal
words.
Not
by any means an isolated incident. Take the afore mentioned track,
“Arboles” with its clear cumbia qualities. Though at times
labeled with “Latin” and “World,” because of the non-English
lyrical content, this song credited to Helado Negro permeates borders
with a Mothership complex outro. By Wearing a more Primus hat on the
following track “Relatives,” the funk continues while a
relatively old idea being revisited in the words “Pesadillas / Se
confunden / Cuando llegan a ti (Nightmares / Are confused / When the
arrive at you)."1
Cyclically it becomes evident this is a record designed like a
sculpture: something concrete is worked at until an ideal state is
reached, until the desired end point is arrived at.
Which
is coincidentally what is best about Helado Negro: the only person
with any influence over the sculpture, and with any access to the
tools to alter them, is the man himself. What seeps from the pores of
these tunes is a sense of isolation. While surroundings are duly
noted and taken at will, the overall integrity is only to be decided
Lange. This is isolationist music. It sounds like nothing else
because brainchildren have only one parental. And although
profanities are a sign of bad vocabulary, what best describes
Invisible Life is
the words really...fucking...and cool.
Jonathan Cohen is a
recovering college radio DJ,discover-er of Jimmy Hoffa Tourettes, and
once lauded expert on shrubbery. You can follow him on Twitter
through the handle @BoggleUrNoggle
1Could
something be said about the exponential pattern in this excerpt?
Probably. Will it. Not really.
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