Desolate: The Invisible Insurrection

Desolate
The Invisible Insurrection
Rating: Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It

Ok, let's see how far I can go. Wunderkind producer Sven Weismann has been DJing since 1997 and producing since 2001, working in a variety of genres, from deep house, techno, to jazz and film soundtracks. Formulist in nature, he takes from existing styles and conforms them to his own vision. His latest project under his Desolate moniker is the follow up to his critically hailed album Xine. The Invisible Insurrection is an exercise in dubstep, leaning more towards the ambient, minimal strain of the genre, rather than the intestine rattling bass variety. Of course, immediately, the first word to hit your mind upon the start of lead track "Imagination" is, Burial. Wow, I got six sentences in before mentioning Burial's name. Pretty good I think. In fact, without context, if you heard the album you may think it was unrealeased sketches from Burial's seminal masterpiece Untrue. Echoing, clattering drums, check; ghostly, haunting washes of synths and runs of treated piano, check; clipped and pitch-shifted film dialogue and vocals, check. All the signposts and markers are there, and in lesser hands, I would have been tempted to slag the album as being just another annoying rehash of what Burial does infinitely better. The problem, however, is that the production details are so pristine and well done, you have to give Weismann some credit for making The Invisible Insurrection sound more "inspired" by Burial than just a cheap knockoff.

Unlike Untrue, this record is not a cycle of songs that fit intricately together as a whole. The thematic cohesiveness of Untrue is what elevated it to monumental status. This record, which contains many songs of staggering beauty, never feels more than a collection of individual songs with a similar mood and feel; almost like a greatest hits.

"Pain," one of the melancholy highlights, drifts effortlessly on a meandering beat, buffeted by haunting strings and pianos, the emotional core solidified by a gorgeous female vocal:



Which unfolds delicately into the similarly beautiful "Divinus," which has more electronic underpinnings:



When Weismann sticks to this formula (and yes, if there was a Burial cookbook, he would be following the recipes slavishly) the album moves along swiftly and beautifully, however, when he does stray from the path, the tracks at best sound like film scores ("Farewell #1" and "Farewell #2") and, at worst, pale Eno ambient soundscapes ("Cathartic," "Aviance" and "Escape"). He succeeds better when taking straight from the source, adding his slight difference to the proceedings. "Imagination" is the logical apex of this theory, taking haunting snippets of dialogue and firing them over clanging, staccato percussion, droning synths, and treated strings.



"Follow Suit," is liquid and textural, as if recorded deep underwater; hearing rattling of chains and animal noises.



The album fades out with the heavenly "In Secret," merging distant, shuffling percussion with languid strings and soft female vocals.



I wish there was a way to evaluate this record without the immediate comparision with Burial, but Weismann sort of gives you no choice. Luckily, Weismann is not preoccupied with riding trends back and forth. He deals in a lot of genres and makes his mark on each one. The Invisible Insurrection is in need of a more distinct personality, however, even in its current state, is a completely enjoyable listen, and fills the gap nicely before the next Burial release.

Rating Guide

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top albums of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and peaks one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been trimmed or polished.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.