Seiho - Collapse

Pitchfork 74

Field-recorded sounds have been part of popular music almost as long as portable recording devices have existed. Our desire to capture the world as we hear it with the purpose of sharing with others is intrinsic to humankind, as are our desires to tinker and to put forward a best face; in experimental electronic music, we often see all three of these desires play out at once. A great example of this is Collapse, the latest album by Japanese artist Seiho, a genre-fluid record which follows in the footsteps of its forebears in the hopes of creating something new and distinct out of fresh ideas, beat culture and curated found sounds.

Collapse is a strange and beautiful record that refuses categorization, traipsing through the fields of house, free jazz and musique concrète on the way to something inscrutably Other. Despite being ostensibly an “electronic” record, Seiho proudly boasts that “very few samples were used in the making of the LP,” instead utilizing live instrumentation and sounds captured in personal recordings of animals, machines and nature, which he sculpted into many of the beats, rhythms and chirps put on display.

The idea of turning found sounds into electronic music is nothing new, of course. Matthew Herbert and Matmos have been releasing records with beats made from hand-crafted sound recordings for years, with two of the most famous examples coming in 2001 with the former’s Bodily Functions and the latter’s A Chance to Cut Is a Chance to Cure. Both of those records derived their power in part from their slavish devotion to specific themes (sounds from bodies and medical procedures, respectively). One spin of Collapse, however, and you can tell that Seiho is going for something else, something freer and less constricted by subject matter; rather than focusing on a world bodies or industrial machines, Seiho wants you to hear the wandering world that passes in front of him. And wander it does—over the course of only thirty-three minutes, Collapse darts and dashes from sound to idea to sound like the speed-shifting brain of a manic teenager. Not one track of the ten lingers on a single musical idea for long. Even the track (possibly ironically) titled “Deep House” doesn't have a single deep house or even house-inspired idea coursing through it.

For this reason, it’s easier to see Collapse as a single work with repeating index points rather than a collection of “songs.” There’s jazz-concrète (“The Vase”), actual deep house (“Exhibition,” “Plastic”), and whimsical IDM (“Peach and Pomegranate,” “DO NOT LEAVE WET”); many songs, such as “Edible Chrysanthemum,” touch multiple indexes. In many ways, this record is a kindred spirit to last month’s Brainfeeder release Fool by Dutch artist Jameszoo. But while that record felt messy and basement-made, Collapse is neat and pristine, as if every careening moment has been carefully crafted and controlled so that no matter how wild it gets, it will never fall apart.

There’s no question that Collapse is a fascinating, inspired record. But the obvious challenge in making music this inherently fidgety is that it can be tough for a listener to stay engaged for long stretches of time, let alone the duration. As a result, some of the tracks get boring (“Deep House,” “Rubber”) and others start or end interestingly but can’t sustain the momentum throughout.

“Edible Chrysanthemum” and “DO NOT LEAVE WET” manage to hold on to their ideas just long enough to sink in deeper than the rest. The first begins with pleasant mechanical hums and aviary trills, then picks up a mock-gamelan beat (maybe samples of sticks on glass) before giving way to a mournful near-jazz of horn, piano and percussive clacks. Album closer “DO NOT LEAVE WET” is easily the warmest and poppiest track: Beautiful, rich and full, and featuring a wider range of instrumentation of '80s funk and R&B, it invites jamming in summer mornings en route to the beach, or maybe afternoon mojitos. The song plays almost like your reward for staying put, and underlines that with a bit more focus and clarity, Seiho might evolve into an important voice in the new guard of experimental electronicists.