Category Archives: Gatto Fritto

Best of 2011, part II: Resurrection of the Synthesist

Given our name, it’s no secret that we gorge on electronic sound, be it discomforting or transcendent.  Guttural or sublime.

We’re forever wary of confirmation bias but this year does seem to have seen wave upon wave of synth based music.  Not just music that features a synth but music that’s built around the synth, great cathedrals constructed to encapsulate the idea of making synthetic sounds that by their design are alien and other.  Except, they’re not anymore.  Thirty years of indoctrination has made the music of the synths mean something else.  A piece of retro nostalgia at one moment, something transgressive the next.  Often extremely beautiful in that airbrushed way that was once cliche but now — as the world folds in on its credit default swapped self –seems aspirational; utopian.

So this then, is our loosely assembled collection of synth focussed tracks which, like a good Bela Tarr movie, create a world and give us time to think within its borders.

 

Jonas Reinhardt: Eos, the Dawn In 2011, Jonas Reinhardt returned to these warm zones: constantly maintained by solar winds and the unfathomably complex gravitational dance moves of the planets.

Speeding through the heavens of blue refracted light that bounce freely off of vast glassed worlds, before slowing to take in the cresting of a sun over its many orbiting bodies.  Eos, the Dawn holds itself in a perfect moment before the god of arpegiated synth pulses rises from her slumber to usher in a new day.  Below a strange planet populated by sentient piers springs into life, their symbiotic Wurlitzers emerging out of the wooden decks like budding flowers to pipe a salute to the new day.

Jonas Reinhardt – Eos, the Dawn

Buy: Music for the Tactile Dome

 

Gatto Fritto: S/T Beachy Head is a beautiful suicide spot in the Sussex coast not far away from Brighton. It is the place depicted in the front cover of Throbbing Gristle’s 20jazzfunkgreats, and soundtracked in a most foreboding manner in the selfsame record. It also seems to be a place that Gatto Fritto, one of the most accomplished sages of the neo-Kosmische diaspora has given some thought to. His Beachy Head is a wonderful quantum waltz that stares not at the maelstrom swirling below, but at a night sky above, where subtle shifts in the luminosity of the constellations reveal a soothing message of galactic rebirth.

Gatto Fritto: Beachy Head

Buy: S/T.

 

Eric Enocksson: Apan Ramble through the hazy palace of your past, and into a cellar of gentle ruins where you collect memories of those pets that grew up with you, and grew old and frail and one day, died.  Bask in the portentous sadness of a wordless farewell, sweetened by the remembrance of the joy that was, and your ability to love, which is also the root of all your tears.  Now picture a dynasty of galactic shepherds whose flock is of planets and constellations, and of the races that thrived and decayed and perished therein, their affection and ache as great as yours, but stretched over aeons of blackness, interrupted by a blinding light, once in a while, once in a while.

Across which echoes a song like this.

Erik Enocksson – IV

Buy: Apan.

 

Borden/Ferraro/Godin/Halo/Lopatin: FRKWYS Vol. 7 One of the many strands that compose our love of music made with synthesisers is its ability to describe nature in a medium that is completely abstracted from.  As the sounds become more sythesised the creator’s intent is more nakedly revealed and in this instance, the feeling of drifting into night — which let’s face it is pretty fucking abstract — is conjured from the minds of the song’s participants.  Droning waves of synths layer each other like laser coloured veils until more excited flourishes tweet their arrival like thousands of birds of pure light arising for the gloom.

Borden, Ferraro, Godin, Halo & Lopatin – Twilight Pacific

Buy: FRKWYS Vol. 7

 

Harald Grosskopf: Synthesist (Reissue) Picture the collection of delicate vibrations through which sound is transported across air as a nascent civilisation of golden-skinned homunculi toiling in barren lands, developing in a super-compressed evolutionary process a theory of the mind and language. If the stars are our destination, then we must be theirs, for they populate our sensory system with awe-inspiring structures that will thrive long after a supernova of silence has obliterated the system whence they arrived. Harald Grosskopf is the Deus-ex-Machina behind this beautiful infiltration, the all-knowing watchmaker that set this process in movement. He is their God, I wouldn’t be surprised if he became ours too.

Harald Grosskopf- Synthesist

Buy: Synthesist

 

Food Pyramid: Food Pyramid III Food Pyramid don’t (need to) mention anything eluding to German 60s/early 70s music in their email to us, but as with the Boredoms, Juan Atkins, Holy Fuck, Death in Vegas, Fuck Buttons, The Time and Space Machine, Deerhunter, Gavin Russom, Oneida, Lindstrom or P.I.L. – reading between the lines gives us great delight.

Food Pyramid – E-Harmony

Buy: Food Pyramid III.

 

S.C.U.M.: Again into Eyes When teenagers making epic industrial goth by way of southend on sea make a first album on Mute records team up with the combined production talents of Ken and Jolyon Thomas you might expect something interesting. Again into Eyes goes beyond anything you’d expect as a first album, beyond the combined age and wisdom of all involved. If this is their first offering, then personally we cannot wait for more.

S.C.U.M – Whitechapel

Buy : Again into Eyes

 

Rene Hell: The Terminal Symphony Rene Hell gives us large hadron collider tickets to an abstract universe where Andrei Tarkovski directed Tron, and Terry Riley teamed up with Aphex Twin to make the soundtrack. BLAM.

Rene Hell – Lighthouse Marvel

Buy: The Terminal Symphony.

 

Moon Gangs: S/T Moon Gangs  plug a whole array of synthetic apparatus into the output devices of our planetary sensory system, thus generating a tape, the latest episode in an invisible collection of factual documentaries through which generation after generation of stargazing weirdoes (Tangerine Dream, Klaus Schulze, Terry Riley, Ligeti, Lindström, OPN, etc.) have attempted to reveal a truth that can’t be spoken.

Moon Gangs – Sea

Buy: S/T (sold out soz)

 

IFEEL Studio: Morgengruss III IFEEL Studio stretches fingers of gold into the core of the galaxy, and the deepest recesses of the human heart to grasp the mysteries of love, and scatter them into the wind. From these seeds grows a mighty tree under whose shadow we rest in a furious summer afternoon, eating cheese and bread like humble and satisfied shepherds, humming a melody of beauty and peace.

IFEEL Studio – Watching Stars Over The Rubicon Beltway

Buy: Morgengruss III

 

Zombi: Escape Velocity Escape Velocity is a new instantiation of our manifesto: numinous motorik disco for emergent new era cults, party music for the post-singularity hivemind, the blueprint of an interstellar motorway where a suicidal priesthood accelerates its sexy silver machines towards the ultimate event horizon.

Zombi – DE3

Buy: Escape Velocity.

 

Mist: House Mist’s House is a collection of prophesies about the day-to-day of our poly-mathematic future, and a tribute to the pioneering work of the Kosmische school that first calibrated its main parameters, and anticipated its sentiment.

In it, the fundamental relations in the science of harmony are expressed mechanically by marshalled regiments of numbers marching with irresistible power

Mist – Twin Lanes

Buy: House

 

Deep Earth: House of Mighty Deep Earth lash out with the pent-up energy of a zillion Zenta laser panthers as they lunge forward, not to snap your neck with mighty fangs of antediluvian vintage, but to carry you dangling from their mouth into exotic lands of strife and illumination like a psychedelic version of He-Man’s Battle Cat, dreamed up in some German progressive commune circa 1976.

Deep Earth – House of Mighty II

Buy: House of Mighty

 

Thug Entrancer: Case  Mounting a late surge into this list Thug Entrancer’s email popped into our swamp-like inbox linking us to Volume 1 and 2 of Tropics Mind.  Pulling in Carpenter synth workouts, Juke influences and more ambient meanderings they’re nothing if not superbly ambitions explorations of synth driven dance music.

Whereas initially they volumes seem arbitrary, volume 1 soon reveals itself as a finely honed, low key Juke inspired, bubbling gem.  With only Spiritual Growth losing the frantic rhythm of its peers, opting instead for a spot on the Carpenter/Goblin axis of tension/terror.  Volume 2 seems more focused on the aforementioned Carpenter/Goblin/(slowed)-Italo synth driven genre…we still haven’t got a suitable name for.  [We suck at genres]  From which Case comes.

Thug Entrancer – Case

Buy: Tropics Mind

 

Throbbing Gristle: all of it (re-mastered reissues) All of them.  On vinyl.  Get them now.  Even if they’re not really ‘synth’ albums — in the same way that David Lynch isn’t really a pop star.

Buy: ALL THE THINGS

20jazzfunkgreats podcast: Gatto Fritto

Featuring : Gatto Fritto + Podcast

20jazzfunkgreats and Gatto Fritto go waaaaay back, as in 2008, when we first featured him via the triumphant psychedelic explosion that was Bursting the Bubble, one unimpeachable hit that always accompanies your trusty jazzfunk banditos in their disco excursions (it’s utterly unreal that there are still copies going at Juno, seriously, sort it out least we give up in despair).

Well, fast forward from the Michael Mann spiked streets of Miami Vice to Anno Domini 2011, when in a total synthesis of love and ecstasy, it is none other than Uruguay’s finest, International Feel, who happen to release Gatto’s long awaited debut.

To celebrate this joyous happening (realised on Monday the 18th), we are kicking off Gatto Mucho Fabuloso week today with a silky smooth mix that Mr. Fritto has specially prepared for this humble blog, we are sure it will animate many a lysergic cycle in sweaty and warm pacific hammocks across the sunkissed limbo of which Gatto is the master, and you puny yet satisfied slaves. In addition to this, and as if it wasn’t enough, all over the coming week we will be featuring, every day, a handpicked tune from his (surely mouthwatering) vault. Killed by pleasure, not a bad way to go mate.

Gatto Fritto 20JFG Mixtape

Beachy Godhead

Featuring : Gatto Fritto

As some of you may know, Beachy Head is a famous suicide spot in the Sussex coast not far away from Brighton. It is the place depicted in the front cover of Throbbing Gristle’s 20jazzfunkgreats, and soundtracked in a most foreboding manner in the selfsame record. It also seems to be a place that Gatto Fritto, perhaps the most accomplished sage of the neo-Kosmische diaspora (with Lindström and Subway), has given some thought to. His Beachy Head is a wonderful quantum waltz that stares not at the maelstrom swirling below, but at a night sky above, where subtle shifts in the luminosity of the constellations reveal a soothing message of galactic rebirth.

Gatto Fritto- Beachy Head

Beachy Head closes a limited edition International Feel  compilation for the Japanese market that 20jazzfunkgreats was lucky enough to get its greasy paws on.

Class of 82

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(Image by Tommy Boy)

Hex is the title track in a Gatto Fritto 12 released last year. I can’t believe more people have picked up on it, there are even some left in Juno. So, I’d advise all of you principled kids out there who like to put your money where your mouth is to run & grab a copy, because you are unlikely to find a sweeter cut of disco classicism this side of early evening at the Loft circa 1978 (although Arcade Lover, Watussi & The Off Key Hat might beg to differ). It all kicks off like one of those lethal weapons hidden in Mike Simonetti’s secret stash, stiletto strutting and dazzling mascara sliding into the psychedelic halo of synthesiser radiance which characterises Gatto Fritto’s music. And then, circa 4.30 comes the balearic opium drop, you have found the light and you will never go back home. Absolutely majestic.

Gatto Fritto- Hex

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Another evening at home as the sun sets drawing the subtlest of gradients over the ample skies of Brightonia, another occasion to revel on the sweetness of our most adored disco princess Sally Shapiro, and the genius of Johan Agebjorn and . She has another album out, by the name of ‘My Guilty Pleasures’ on Permanent Vacation, and it is everything you would hope for: disco music to fly kites, draw shapes in the snow and play air keytar to, in front of the mirror watching the sweet reflection of a John Hughes flick , this could have been Giorgio Moroder’s imaginary sunday morning project, a nimble kitten to his fierce nocturnal panthers. Moonlight Dance shifts the tempo a bit, all 80s night dubbin’ and streetwise boogie synthesisers, drawing us into the floor for a few minutes of nerdy dancing, after which we step back into the shadows, shy as ever but happier than usual.

Sally Shapiro- Monlight Shadow

Future bliss

Featuring : Gatto Fritto + Subway

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Where up and coming master of the cosmic oscillator Gatto Fritto creates, in his remix of Subway’s Simplex, a warm epic to awaken to as twin stars dawn over a Terran colony in a galaxy far away, reflecting refulgent on the shiny surfaces of a crystal architecture built by people wiser than us. Many dudes out there be rocking the trance inductive sound, but few (say Aeroplane, Windsurf or Hatchback) manage to reach parallel peaks of swirling incandescent multi-layered glory, each second of this odyssey is one to savour in delight as we launch from some Balearic beach and into new constellations of synthetic sound cruising in an aerodynamic vessel powered by a gravity drive that taps into the same energy reservoir that informed the wild-eyed expeditions of thee early German pioneers, particularly Manuel Göttsching.

Interstellar stuff.

Subway- Simplex (Original Tempo Gatto Fritto Remix)

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And let us continue our ascension on the anti-gravity escalator by the hand of Weird Tapes. In his ‘Get Religion’ EP we discover ‘The Heavens’, a smooth gem of Daniel Wang style future disco nocturnal strutting across the carefully arranged ways of a sonic Zen Garden, slight reconfigurations of the minimalistic landscape create the right conditions for a lunar goddess to materialise in the ethereal light, above us she hovers with a benevolent smile, and then she sings otherworldly so that we can rise into the starry sky atop invisible platforms of lovely melody.

Weird Tapes- The Heavens

Miami paranormal

Featuring : Gatto Fritto + Miami

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Saturday night and I step on the accelerator of my Porsche Carrera gathering such speed the Morse code of street lights on the sides of the road transform into snakes of neon, or ley-lines re-erupting from under the concrete to merge into a multicoloured band the breath of Chinese dragon or a tunnel through hyperspace taking me from a penthouse which is all blinding white to a date with a woman dressed in a Christian Dior three piece suit, this transition through the fabric of the cosmos is akin to sudden death and subsequent ascension to the mainstream version of Christian Heaven.

‘Watch out Crockett, you have ran over two cats already’ says Ricardo.

What the fuck is he doing here?

Gatto Fritto- Bursting the Bubble

(Gatto Fritto strikes again after making us go ‘phew’ with his Hungry Ghost 12. ‘Bursting the Bubble/Radio B-92′ is another killer package, the beginning of the former a death-trap of cosmic thrills or a storm cloud of darken vibes spreading over the diorama of a dodgy deal gone dodgier, like some Mexican filero grabbing you from the lapels of that pink suit, crash against the flimsy wall of the disco V.I.P. lounge while silhouettes boogie fluid in the background, a silver butterfly switchblade that could be the invocation of a thaumaturgist materialises in the air, zig zag up goes your soul fluttering into the air like a beautiful flock of pink flamingoes, which is of course the breakdown).

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Crockett stares at me like I was a spectre taking form in the passenger seat of his Porsche Carrera, he is driving unhinged, the muzzled hum of the motor a drone following whose vibrations pulsate the soft upholstered diminutive cavity of the cockpit. The phantasmagoria of bright lights and shadows flickering sudden like the wings of a raven taking flight over that battlefield of the lost souls which is the waterfront is projected in all its dramatic misery through the car’s windows. Phew. We dissect the bloated corpse of the city like the silver blade of a surgeon intent on its navel, where Ms. Fiorentino, a connection of the Souza Clan awaits. Souza has been peddling some strange kind of dope in the market, of such voodoo power it turns its users into decaying flesh-craving beasts that gambol down the streets wailing like harbingers of even more evil days to come , we hope Fiorentino’s sudden bout of repentance might deliver Souza into our hands and save this city from a Zombie apocalypse.

“What the fuck are you doing here Ricardo?” Asks Crockett, “Why do you always have to try to cramp my style with your suave ways?”

Aren’t we buddies any more?

Force of Nature- Transmute (Still Going Remix)

(DFA stealthy assassins Still Going are surely onto something as their haunted remix of Force of Nature’s Transmute, which lies in a murky zone somewhere in between Ame and Goblin demonstrates. With metronomic pulse they build a cyclopean sonic cathedral which lays empty, all echo and blue shadows, awaiting for the return of suitable Gods, that distorted rumbling which is the breakdown constitutes an unmistakable portent of their imminent arrival.

You should also check their awesome remix of Low Motion Disco’s Love Love Love)

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Crockett and Ricardo make an excellent detective team, and the success rate of their investigations more than makes up for the incompetence of the rest of the department, that is the reason I always let them get away with their obscene expense claims. I think that spiking their Copacabana cocktails with Peyote will contribute to increase the strength of their spiritual bond, as only an extreme psychedelic experience can do. Some might think this approach to human resource management is morally dubious, but I don’t care, because I know I am making history.

(Notes found in Lieutenant Castillo’s Diary after he was committed to the Riverdale Psychiatric Hospital).

Truffle Club- Gone Blue

(Mysterious agent provocateurs Dissident keep going from strength to strength, and their starkly decorated one-sided vinyl releases are becoming a staple in the record bags of forward thinking robotic disco DJs. The recent ‘Gone Blue’ EP from Glaswegian magi Truffle Club is another example of all that makes the references in this imprint so special, there is that love for sprawling arpeggiated synths which hover like the ghosts of an alien shipwreck above cryptic ruins buried under the icy bleeped-out electroid tundra. This music is ice that burns with the black flame of a mystery which is the same that mesmerised us first in Chris and Cosey’s incantations, later in the euro-techno adventures of the Knife. As the Glockenspiel starts chiming tall shadows grow in the distance, like the sepia revenants of Sergio Leone gunslingers advancing towards a ppointment in the high noon of a barren Carpenterian landscape, killer!)

– – – – –

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If you like this stuff you shall come to the Penthouse on Saturday where we will be celebrating our monthly psychedelic seance, we have the mighty Dave Liteyear guesting, and the Phil Collins 3 are bidding this Earth farewell downstairs . Expect the usual pastiche of infernal disco and heavenly noise, and the other way around. A bit like the tunes in the cassette of our car, depicted above.

We are also doing this in London next month. WHA.

You can also see Joakim with Allez Allez here this Saturday. Go Go Go!