Daryl Worthington records onto 4-track and dictaphone but makes, as is distinct from opening tune Dictaphone 2, rich, evocative and intricately wonderful music. This first track has a peaceful droning note over which there are washes of ambience and a repeating, slightly frenetic vibraphone line dancing around like eager birds in morning light.
It’s followed by a oscilating sound that reminds me, for some reason, of old He-Man cartoons, but its fortunately not the introduction to Skeletor’s evil laughter, instead a shaky percussion-line shuffles in with a kind of shoulder-moving swagger, whilst bass notes play out with thoughtful optimism, and married to a title like Let’s Burn The Fuckers That Made You Sad it becomes an all the more oddly warming and comforting mix. However, stretching on for over 13 minutes means that the sound does start to just become background noise, indeed, around the six and a half minute mark the track seems to give up on itself a little. It grabs your attention once more as it reaches its sparsest point and a choppy beat like a helicopter emerges, with twinkling notes amongst the swirl. It comes toward an somewhat electronica-styled climax with the arrival of a fuzzy synth, before sounds layer upon one another in a addled frenzy.
Vangelis-like Bright Light follows mixing lilting guitar lines in amongst its aching synths, it’s the kind of music you could imagine soundtracking beautiful underwater shots of whales beneath icy surfaces, its electronic-bass babbling like one of Brian Eno‘s more woozy works. That track halts abruptly and Smash The Walls stars with a similar mix of rippling synth and guitar, this time strummed chirpily, the track, utterly surprisingly suddenly dives into a processed drum-beat, hand-claps and the guitar timidly stabs out some fuzzy chords before turning into a little high-spirited riff that plays the track towards its close.
It’s back into the ominous though with Dictaphone 1, there’s the sound of traffic passing by in the distance, whilst nerve-jangling synths ring out in each ear, it’s an evocative sound collage of feeling a little on-edge walking through the city at night, perhaps in a part of town that feels somewhat removed from residential life. It gives way to the relaxing Summer Melts Into Winter, the synths are subtler here, with a heart-beat like bass drum pulsing beneath the repeating vibe patterns. Around five minutes in a slow slighty out-of-step melody comes in accompanied by Thomas Newman-like twitchy percussion, gradually effecting the pace of track with its contrasting tempos, finally arriving at a sci-fi-like ending.
Final track How does someone like you live with someone like you? begins with a drum machine’s racing beat stuttering in your ears, an intentionally stumbling keyboard line repeats whilst the usual synths fill out the background. It’s the most playful of all the tracks on the record, fairground-like keyboard riffs emerge around the three and a half minute point, before a snotty organ whirls around out of the left channel off-setting the spindly sound in the right nicely. As the drums drop out the track is left with a number of contrasting and complementary ideas playing out, each one seemingly tucked in its own distinct corner allowing your ears to wander over to each and hear what they’re up to, before the record comes to an end on a sustained synth note.
Kostglotov have a good sound, easy-going and attention grabbing in equal measure, there are some wobbles on this record where some of the longer tracks do grow foggy, but there’s always something to bring you back and the record ends on a distinctive and giddy high.
[Rating:4]
