Commended electronic music albums of 2022: part three

 

We march on with the countdown. These are commended albums, which is a polite way of saying they didn't make my final top 50. You should listen to them anyway, to avoid social embarrassment more than anything.

This is the third of five Commended blog posts. See the full countdown here.

33: 33-69 (C.A.N.V.A.S.)

This so nearly made the top 50. It’s a bewildering listen. Choral slowness over jagged strings, machine-gun electro undercutting an undecipherable tannoy blah, something that sounds like Bjork using a dance pad made of knives. I mean, yikes. So very nearly.

Ailie Ormston and Tim Fraser: It Changes (Bison)

Proper composers, these two. Here we have complex, tangled classical music inspired by dance music, although the references are suggested rather than upfront. Apparently, the UK rave anthem Can Set You Free is a musical motif, although it would be a while before you’d notice.

Chouk Bwa & The Angströmers: Ayiti Kongo Dub (Les Disques Bongo Joe)

Haitian hardcore dance music. Let’s type that again. Haitian hardcore dance music. Delivered in two volumes, these beats are equally uncompromising as they are cheery. The melodic vocals are pure Caribbean sunshine, yet the sunshine is submerged in an underground warehouse. Brill.

Coby Sey: Conduit (AD 93)

Sey’s deadpan spoken word is our hook into what otherwise would be album of obscure, narcotic Tricky-style loops. “Marking the past,” he says over and over again. You can really feel London DIY culture writ large and presented without polish. V. real.

Kakuhan: Metal Zone (NAKID)

Classical music is merely a jumping off point on an album in which strings are pitched into a deep chasm of warped, broken electronics. One online commenter describes it as “Someone handed Arthur Russell a bunch of Photek records.” Not easy, always interesting.

This is part of a series of the Best Electronic Music Albums of 2022. Read it all here.