Anne-James Chaton + Andy Moor – Transfer (CD Unsounds)
In a Dutch magazine I wrote about this stuff which was originally was released on 7” format that it sounds cool, clean, groovy and with a distinctive impassivity this here is an alternative interpretation of the concept of an audio book. Anne-James Chaton here is supported by Andy Moor, guitarist of The Ex. The series appeared under the name ‘transfer’, in this context meaning conveying things or persons from one place to another. It is not as much about the targeted end but more what happens before, either physical or mentally. In psychology transfer involves projecting feelings from the past to another person, possibly the unaware listener. Transportation, restless and always moving towards some destination but that’s not the case on Transfer. Here we’re not going anywhere and without arriving it seems this traveling creates a sensation of pointlessness – pointless beyond establishing a vision but instead focus on the moment. The tracks on Transfer do show multiple ways, focusing on the means rather than the end. The collection consists of the original a-sides, containing historical small drama’s about planes coming down or car crashes (Princess in a Mercedes class S 2805) and the b-sides with fictitious stories. And all though centered around a common theme, this is not a concept album or whatsoever. Each track stands on its own and the slowly pulsating beats and Andy Moor’s arpeggio hammered guitar chords slowly spin a web around Chaton’s poetry. Chaton seem to be in a state of trance, as he releases a continuous waterfall of words making up the storylines about demise through departing and never arriving. No matter the instrument, guitar, slowed down dance patterns, all is in support of the dada-esque Chaton spitting out words in an almost beatnik fashion.
A modern Robert Ashley study, describing routes in an artistic manner just for the sake of it. Historical movements but yet honestly, if there is a certain message, I couldn’t care less. As long as it is presented in such a bloodcurdling way I tend to accept almost everything. PvdG.