Akamatsu - Seminky

A Closer Listen

Rémi Quéron has released two electronic albums as Akamatsu, but Seminky changes the plot.  There’s still an engaging electronic sheen, but strong elements of modern composition shift the third album to a new field.  A nonet of organic musicians from France and the Czech Republic widen the sonic palette, while a trio of poems from Annaïck Domergu deepens the emotional resonance.

We’ll begin with “Novembre,” one of the early singles.  This acoustic piece imitates the month by suggesting fullness and space.  A folklike guitar is met by bright piano, cloudlike sweeps of strings and jaunty double bass.  It’s a lovely way to enter the season: mourning the bleaching of color while beginning to appreciate autumn’s new subtleties.  In contrast, the album’s other single, “Saint Loup,” is swift and ebullient from the very beginning.  Synthesizer and snare rule the roost, dispelling every shadow.

The rest of the album travels between these two poles, enjoying the freedom to roam.   “Rusalki”s xylophone and harmonium are particularly lovely, especially when the music peels back midway to showcase the former.  The late brass transforms the timbre to jazz.  Cooking sounds permeate the opening frame of “Cuisine-Chimie,” along with a doorbell ring quickly integrated into the mix. After a xylophone breakdown, the time signature changes, as if the guests have arrived.  Then it changes again, incorporating machine sounds, unfolding to a finale of sticks.  “Volyně” dabbles in waltz, while “Schneider Swing” begins with a slow tempo that befits its title before temporarily transforming into a techno beast.

At three points over the course of the set, Domergue’s voice emerges, speaking in French.  In her first appearance, the poet is accompanied primarily by piano; her second launches xylophone and double bass from the start, strings and drums in the middle.  These are the album’s two shortest pieces.  But she returns for album closer “Là,” which is longer than the first two pieces combined.  In this track, all of the elements are integrated: French and Czech, poetry and instrument, modern composition and electronics, all accompanied by the wash of the sea.  By the end, the piece reaches a post-rock elegance, a suitable finale, the studio equivalent of multiple bands joining hands on the stage for one last bow.  The album’s title is Czech for seeds; over the course of the set, we’ve heard these seeds sprouting, and by the end they are in full bloom.  (Richard Allen)