26 July 2007
BT - “This Binary Universe” Review
Much has been made of BT (Brian Transeau)’s newest work, a jam-packed disc of sweepingly cinematic electronica that, while clearly by the same mind that brought us tracks like The Great Escape, Mercury & Solace and Superfabulous, showcases an almost obscene amount of musical growth for the already talented LA composer. Wholly unique in its marriage of high-tech signal processing and classicism, and booming through a gorgeous 5.1 mix,This Binary Universe
I’ll admit that unfortunately, the first track is a bit lacking. It’s certainly full of blips and buzzes (along with the “stutter effect” pioneered by BT, in which samples are split into microsecond chunks and “shuffled” to create additional rhythms), but unfortunately it lacks the subtlety I expected. The good news is that there is such an extensive range of ideas and sounds throughout the other six tracks to more than compensate this flaw.
The intricately interlocking patterns of my favorite piece, “1.618″, swell to a powerful bassline, briefly flirting with higher mathematics before descent into an unapologetically synthetic landscape: every texture, every flash of sound, sparkles with diamondlike precision through a halo of digital dust. It’s almost unbearably brilliant, seamlessly surging from chaos to harmony and back, and as the movement ends, the main theme returns--this time as a dreamy, rapturous introspection so clearly in love with its subject matter that one can’t help but wonder just who or what that subject is.
I am continually impressed that so much feeling can be conjured up by short patterns of notes--that through its simple musicality, through undulating waves of digital passion, so much more is being said.
Another astounding movement, The Antikythera Mechanism’s slow-dance dreaminess begins slowly to gurgle and sputter until it becomes a torrent of techno--the real shock being how well these polar opposites flow together; twin rivers flowing from a common source. And then those rivers become waterfalls, rippling with distortion, their electronics giving way to the distant war-cry of strings ripped from a Baroque concert hall, and it becomes nothing short of epic. Never before have we seen a techno-opera on this scale; it brings the proverbial house down with a wordless tale of hope and madness. As it decomposes in a flurry of distortion, I feel like Carmina Burana has just entered the 27th century.
The accompanying DVD (please, please, buy the physical version or you will miss out on this!) features a series of commissioned music videos for each of the tracks. In perfect sync to every blit and bump of BT’s nuanced production, the videos have a precision (especially on “1.618″… oh my God!) that has to be seen to be understood. Of particular magnificence is the video for the 15-minute “See You On the Other Side”, a piece which I enjoyed but wasn’t thrilled by when first hearing but which the video has extended, amplified, ignited. Somehow able to convey the sheer scale of the Cosmos, the feeling of spaceflight, the emotion of distant worlds and the isolation of the abyss, the video for “See You On the Other Side” literally changes one’s entire perspective of the music. You can simply never hear it the same way again.
Speaking of which, the 5.1 mix on the second disc features some of the most expressive, dynamic and exhilarating use of surround sound to date--revealing new textures, new ideas, layered between the sounds you thought you knew. It’s almost like discovering your favorite painting is really a sculpture, full of mezmerizing new complexity. After just one listen to the music in this way, the normal, stereo CD sounds myopic and fragmented in comparison.
Given its lack of vocals and the fact that “electronic” music is supposed to sound alien and overly-structured (ha!), it’s almost astounding how human, how soulful and sincere, this highly-computerized work really is. One might liken it to a Brian Eno-esque meditation, or perhaps a poem, but I think of it as nothing so much as a love letter from BT to the universe. The final track, “Good Morning Kaia”, is dedicated to his baby daughter; it blasts such pure love through your speakers that many reviews I’ve read have called it the most emotional musical experience they’ve ever heard. It’s difficult not to be overwhelmed.
Both startlingly mature and unbelievably textural, This Binary Universe
My Rating: 9 out of 10 - shining originality for most of its length, and a must-buy, but unfortunately plagued by some unnecessarily drawn-out movements which may irritate some.
Available on Amazon and
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