Bitchin Bajas - Transporteur EP (2015)
Review:
Chicago-based trio Bitchin Bajas once again pay homage to the zone-out music of the 1960s and '70s, perfectly reconstructing the psychedelic easy-listening of the era. But this time they are carving out an even more distinct path. On last year’s self-titled double LP, the Chicago-based trio Bitchin Bajas—which began as an offshoot of psych-rock ensemble Cave—paid expert homage to the zone-out music of the 1960s and '70s, perfectly reconstructing the psychedelic easy-listening of the era. The group—Cooper Crain, Roberty Frye, and Dan Quinlivan—got all of the ingredients right. The record’s eight compositions were perfectly dialed in, both in terms of influences (Terry Riley, Laraaji, Popol Vuh) and the vintage gear and methods required to channel them (tape machines, loops, electric organs). It was like taking a stroll through a museum exhibit, a blissed-out reminder that, at this point, ambient music has a deep and well-established history. Bitchin Bajas appeal is that they so expertly recreate a style of music designed for simple pleasure. This might make the trio sound like some sort of New Age cover band, but that’s not exactly the case. They don't create knock-offs or copies. Instead, they apply the same compositional methods and get results that are unique, but familiar. If you've spent some time with Terry Riley’s A Rainbow in Curved Air, Fripp and Eno’s Evening Star, or the Kuckkuck label catalog, Bitchin Bajas will register as more of a good thing. But on the group's latest EP, Transporteur, the trio has stepped back from their influences a little. The music is still meditative and trance inducing, but it’s harder to draw a direct line to an existing work or style. Even though it’s labeled as an EP, at 34 minutes Transporteur is a sizeable chunk of music—four pieces that almost all stretch out to around nine minutes. The tracks are still based on repetitive looping phrases, but the instrumental palate has shifted, moving away from sounds that were wedded to yesterday's mystical moment (mainly, the electric organ) and relying more heavily on sequenced analog synthesizers. The first two tracks, "Rias Baixas" and "Planete T", hew more closely to the Bitchin Bajas' established formula. A droney loop is introduced, then augmented with lush keyboard figures. It's great and thoroughly drifty stuff, if reminiscent of pastoral German synth noodlers like Cluster. The EP's second half moves into more distinctive territory. On "No Tabac", a percussive synthesizer sequence is paired up with flute doodles, which slowly evolve and accumulate urgency. Closer "Marimba" is particularly unusual. The process is basically the same—a burbling synthesizer loop evolves with the accumulation of additional instrumentation. Only here, the focus is on rhythm and percussion, rather than ethereal tones and pads, with seemingly random bongo-like sounds, hand claps, shakers, and additional percussive elements. At times, the music recalls Congolese electric thumb piano ensemble Konono N°1, albeit with a more overtly psychedelic bent. It’s excellent modern ambient music, exercising restraint, never crashing into a crescendo, and sustaining interest while remaining rooted in repetition. In addition to a great record collection and a well curated studio, Bitchin Bajas have also internalized the concepts that made vintage ambient music engaging. Particularly, how tape loop-based or repetitive compositions can distort your perception of time, that they can supply a sense of stillness in motion, where seven minutes can slip by almost entirely unnoticed. —
By Aaron Leitko, pitchfork
Track List:
01. Planète T
02. Marimba
03. No Tabac
04. Rias Baixas
Media Report:
Genre: electronic
Country: Chicago, Illinois, USA
Format: FLAC
Format/Info: Free Lossless Audio Codec
Bit rate mode: Variable
Channel(s): 2 channels
Sampling rate: 44.1 KHz
Bit depth: 16 bits
Compression mode: Lossless
Writing library: libFLAC 1.2.1 (UTC 2007-09-17)
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