Lucy and Rrose are significant architects in this new paradigm of electronic music. Individually they distort, manipulate and redefine the borders between the avant garde and the dance floor, with music that neither conforms to – nor humours the status quo. They align principally within the idea of Techno as a futurist construct, incorporating anything from field recordings to Krautrock in works that echo Russolo’s intonarumori as if transposed to the modern day club environment. Both artists subvert function with a deep atmospheric sorrow in their works where form is the concomitant of a personal introspective relationship with this machine music for the sake of some unalienable truth.
It’s taken them some time, but today these two mutual spirits have found each other on Lotus Eaters, a collaborative work, released on Lucy’s Stroboscopic Artefacts label in which thy create a artificial dreamscape not wholly committed to the club floor. It’s exactly as you suspect too, the two artists accentuate their shared peculiarities and through the four-track EP delve further into the mysterious, the atmospheric and the provocative. Although we can discern an Rrose, Lucy / Stroboscopic thread pulling through the entire EP, there’s also something new here. There’s a sense of breaking new ground on Lotus Eaters, an improvised experimentalism that subverts the functional for an anthropomorphised form, breathing life into the music with some impossible intention of reaching a new higher state of consciousness.
From the first few bars of Chloroform, we are sucked into a vortex, where biomechanical constructs echo in a void and the tangible has given away to a 21st century nirvana. Lucy & Rrose encourage their listeners to follow them deeper into the assemblage of some unknown subconscious fleeting thought through repetition and the evolution of texture that adopt some transcendent qualities in the space of these repetitive forms. Peeling and Stained Glass use a kick, but only as a mantra – an unwavering metronome, where electronic microorganisms build entire new worlds for the purpose of escapism and the definitive hedonism that calls on club music’s core finds a new spiritual motive, where the purpose for dancing is not its sole intent.
It follows, from the club floor to the outside world where the Foil Gardens creates an evocative soundscape that either intends to extend our trance indefinitely or reawaken us to the world outside. The beat-less 12-minute affair drones and creeps around square waves, white noise and low sub-bass oscillations, as the conclusion to the transcendent objective first established on Chloroform. It also concludes Lotus Eaters, as an EP created for pure escapism, a vehicle in which to follow the strands of quixotic vapour of a daytime reverie, transposing the Greek myth from which the EP’s title arrives to the modern world.