3 out of 5
Label: Nomark
Produced by: Amon Tobin
A stunningly emotive album of electronic musings, Amon Tobin’s How Do You Live takes notes from the beat-based experimentation of ISAM, and the straight atmospherics of Dark Jovian, following the artist’s thread (under this moniker) of pushing his drum and bass IDM as far outfield as it can go. But it’s also a puzzling construction, a mystery told through its expressive, somewhat themed song titles (In a Valley Stood the Sun; Black as the Sun) and the cover photo – an close up, in stark black and white, of a horse’s eye. These songs, these feelings, this atmosphere – it can be playful and hopeful; often mesmerizing. And, as mentioned, puzzling: the album takes some literal cues from ISAM in its bookends and seems to exist in a sphere of Figueroa‘s electronic instrumentation – that monkier makes an appearance here as well – creating an even more mind-blowing amalgam of the organic and the electronic. However, a short interstital turns out to be the album’s second full phase, of near-beatless sound abstractions. And, personally, it’s difficult to map this to where the album begins. The beats are there, but Tobin masks them, reverses them, manipulates them; only in a flash do they reappear in the penultimate Black as the Sun, but the breakdown – the most direct d&b element on the album – is a fleeting tease, before the conclusion brings back ISAM’s cues in a mask of static and fuzz.
To be clear, I’m not asking for the beats, as these tracks are gorgeous on their own. But as an album experience, it’s hard to wrap my head around. There’s some story here I’m not quite grasping, though the telling seems purposefully unspooled, starting with the most concrete and then stretching it apart to bear its innards as we go along. Making for a fascinating listen, if distancing; which I realize juxtaposes the immersiveness of any given song on its own terms, but the progress is from songs to feelings, and it’s not a journey with, necessarily, a payoff – it leaves you with question marks instead. Breaking up the more structured songs might’ve corrected this, but perhaps not’ve been the right narrative; I imagine, instead, a whole album of the more experimental works in the latter half could’ve landed more fully for me.
As a final note, I’m super glad I have a physical copy of this, which sounds great, but I do think digital is the way to go. The experience I’m describing above isn’t helped by the physical pause of flipping over / switching LPs; the digital version being listenable all in one go makes it easier to stay tuned in.