Ray T G Philp

Hello. I'm Ray. I like to write about musics and filmsies. I write and edit for The Skinny magazine, the largest entertainment publication in the UK. I also write about music, theatre and comedy for the Edinburgh Evening News. Until recently, I was music editor at The Journal, Scotland's largest independent student newspaper. At the moment, I'm studying for an MA in Journalism at Edinburgh Napier. Direct your preguntas to ray@theskinny.co.uk or rtg.philp@gmail.com, and ta for reading.

Tuesday, 27 April 2010

Death Disco: Three Is The Magic Number

AutoKratz are a London-based trio that tread on a fairly sketchy tightrope: an indie-dance act for the thinking man/woman. Their 80s pop influences – combine New Order, Soft Cell and the like – with the aggressive, tightly-wound tendencies of late-noughties blog house, this Kitsune-approved mesh seems quite an odd soundscape to reconcile with ambitions to come across like a latter-day, strobe emitting Rodin sculpture.

However, said seal of approval from Kitsune, largely established via featuring on consecutive Kitsune Maison compilations (5, 6 and 7), lends substance to the PR fuss that surrounds autoKratz as they promote their newly released Kick EP, following on from their well received debut album of last year, Animal. Kick, from what we've heard of it so far, is really rather good – Skin Machine, already doing the rounds on the usual assortment of music blogs at the time of going to press, is a profundity-free zone of air raid sirens and twitching synth slivers.

Another development of note is the recent addition of drummer Robin Rigoulet to the original lineup of Russell Crank and David Cox, the latter two of whom met in circumstances that we entirely approve of. To wit: Crank, after knocking back copious volumes of bevvie, unleashed fetid chunks of spew onto Cox outside of a nightclub. As Cox prepared to give Crank a square go, he noticed that his vomity assailant was sporting a Devo t-shirt, which thereafter prompted the lowering of fists and an unexpected degree of mutual civility as they began to discuss their musical preferences, and thus autoKratz was born kicking, screaming and spewing in the heart of London nightlife.

And in a warped sense, the anecdote broadly reflects the autoKratz sound: brash and confrontational though it may seem on first impression, there's a very agreeable tenderness beneath that blurs the edges between their exuberant synth workouts and their strong songwriting flourishes, the latter of which is evident even in their early material. Down & Out in Paris & London, autoKratz's Orwell referencing debut EP, notable though it is for its harder edges (Pardon Garcon [Rewerk], Reaktor), still showcases the then duo's melodic and lyrical sensibilities (Last Show, Hearts).

By punctuating their deft lyrical approach with stabs of guttural electro riffs – by turns abrasive and slender – autoKratz manage to swerve the whole deep-fried cod philosophy vibe that befalls other well-meaning peddlers of IDM. So yeah, dance music might be a creaky vessel on which to float aspirations of being all deep and meaningful, but maybe, in amongst all the flailing forearms and elbows, someone is enjoying a Eureka moment.

The Skinny

No comments: