Defrag - Lost Lands / Lost Seas / Lost Skies / Lost Worlds

A Closer Listen

Imagine having a story to tell: a sprawling sci-fi epic about the end of the world, the fate of a few survivors, and rescuers who may not be what they seem.  The pieces of the story form a seamless narrative.  Now imagine an editor who requires nine of the twenty-two chapters to be cut.  This is an agonizing process, like choosing between children, but you pull it off, producing a leaner tale, just as effective.  This is the journey of Jeff Dodson (Defrag), whose epic can be enjoyed as a series of three EPs totaling an hour in length or as a 37-minute LP.  Now one might reverse the narrative: hearing the LP first, one might regard Lost Worlds as the definitive version, the EPs the expanded version with bonus tracks.  Either way, the experience is enthralling.

Defrag’s music is as cool and crisp as the glacial cover art, a mixture of industrial, glitch and IDM.  One can imagine the gleam of a spaceship, a brilliant expanse of stars.  Lost Lands communicates its narrative with interconnected titles, that when combined read “I arrived cold with insects in my head at a harbor of dreams, and we celebrated while birds ate the tortoise rotting.”  The EP begins with solo piano, providing little impression of what is to come; this is the calm before the storm, the invasion, the environmental collapse.  Even when the beats arrive, the atmosphere is celebratory, oblivious to the oncoming armageddon.  “With Insects In My Head,” represented by the project’s first video, is swifter and more foreboding, especially given the repetition of the line, “I have insects in my head.”  The skittering beats do in fact sound like insects, producing an uncomfortable feeling.  On the album proper, this is the opening track; the three tracks from Lost Lands that appear on the LP do so in their original order.  But what does one do with three finales?  “The Tortoise Rotting” is heard only here, the drama of its electronic strings and breakbeats a prime reason to purchase the EP in addition to the album.

The narrative resets on Lost Seas.  Again, there is a quiet introduction, this one a growing drone.  It is obvious that great attention has been paid to the sequencing.  “These Dark Seas” rises from such a drone, then erupts: an attack of percussion with a touch of nu skool breaks.  The strings are once again primary, picking up the thread from “The Tortoise Rotting.”  In terms of the narrative, the continents have fallen into the sea, and those who remain are forced to survive on the dark, rolling waters, which are represented by the tumult of “Arrival” and the keening, siren-like calls of “Orpis Chokes.”  In the second finale – “Against All Tides” – the music begins to battle against itself, the systems breaking down, a foretaste of the end.  It’s also the only track from Lost Seas to find new sequencing on Lost Worlds, appearing before “Last Breath, Make It a Good One” instead of after.

While two tracks of Lost Skies will also find themselves flipped on Lost Worlds, the majority survive the cut.  For a third time, there is a gentle launch, “Moth” flirting with the flame before flying in.  The piece bleeds a sense of pathos, as the drifting survivors look to the skies in hope of rescue, seeing what appear to be angels.  The gym floor scrapes of “To the Flame” extend this sense of uncertainty.  “Melody 4” is violent and fast, an acceleration of drama.  In a curious observation, we note that each EP contains a track with a similar name: “I Arrived Cold,” “Arrival” and finally “I’ve Arrived,” only the latter included on the LP.  The title and implication of the final track – on both EP and album – are chilling:  “They’re Not Angels.”  Following the trajectory of “Against All Tides” to its conclusion, the music falls apart, components separating like broken rafts, exploded spaceships, fried circuits.  The album could only end with this track.  The last time we recall an album ending in such disintegration: Ólafur Arnalds’ Eulogy for Evolution back in 2007.

With Lost Worlds joining the EP series, the story is told twice, like a theatrical release and a director’s cut.  The director’s cut reveals added nuance, such as the return of the piano in the closing piece; the theatrical version is more punchy and succinct.  There’s no going wrong with either, which is why we recommend both; the final EP is out next month.  (Richard Allen)

Thu Jan 11 00:01:25 GMT 2024