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Monday, July 15, 2013

Week 2, What's up? - What's in a Name? (Helado Negro Invisible Life [Asthmatic Kitty])

[SET-UP]

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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