Calcou - Murmuration

A Closer Listen

Murmuration may be Calcou‘s first album, but it’s not his first appearance.  The Berlin-based artist has been releasing music for five years, beginning with three EPs followed by seven singles, each of which appear here, tying the number of singles on Michael Jackson’s Thriller.  For those who have been following the artist, there’s no risk in buying the set, as it’s already proven its worth.

Like the recent albums from Tinlicker and Catching Flies, Murmuration lands between house and trance, with a mix of instrumentals, cuts with vocal snippets and the occasional song.  This variety opens it up to various markets, including ours.  Calcou knows the value of injecting a universal phrase with a soupçon of romance.  But he also includes a vocabulary word, antrhophyllite, which refers to the cool rocks that look ordinary on the outside but display crystals when sliced in half.  The same might be said of the album, which contains many tiny delights; or the inspirations from nature, most apparent in the tweets (no, not those tweets) in “Birdsong.”

The title track starts the album in a flurry of stardust, like the eyes of a child opening their first toybox.  The notes sparkle and dance as the beats establish a steady, reassuring pace.  The entire album is suffused with this warmth: a feeling of safety as one sinks into the grooves.  “Birdsong” follows, a bright vocal loop darting in and out like a starling.  Upon viewing a murmuration, the artist marveled that it “felt very dreamy and hypnotic, other times driving and euphoric,” an impression captured in his music.

“Time” introduces a pair of sub-themes: being “lost in the rhythm” of one’s own thoughts and finding one’s self.  The narrator insists she “won’t let time define her:” In this fast-paced world, I need a place where my heart belongs.  Twice the music slows to a crawl and restarts; the third time, at song’s end, it stops.  While dancing to this track, one might feel simultaneously centered and freed, a curious euphoria.  On the cover, the artist is likely standing, yet appears to levitate.

At the end of the album, Calcou also tries something new, literally referenced in the title: “A new beginning.”  For the first time, the artist wades past the safety of single-length tracks to produce a club entry.  At 7:20, the track is 13 seconds longer than the album’s three shortest tracks combined. Tellingly, it was also not one of the singles; thankfully, Calcou nails it.  Given the time and space to explore, the artist stretches his musical wings and flies, just like the starlings who inspired him.  The ambient breakdown is especially lovely: carefree and unrushed.  By the time the LP ends, Calcou isn’t the only one to have left his feet.  (Richard Allen)