Non pareil French trumpeter, avant gardist and NWW collaborator, Jac Berrocal, displays all his colours in this archival deep dive sequenced by the man himself for best summary of his disciplined but feral tekkerz; from jazz vapours to tape cut-ups, skronk, “pop delusions” and industrial razz outs - RIYL Alex Zhang Hungtai, Anne Gillis, Ghédalia Tazartès.
First introduced to ur-industrialists via NWW, then to the 2010’s wave via Blackest Ever Black, and recently showcased in jams with Anne Gillis by La Scie Dorée; Jacques Berrocal has been a mainstay of the gallic avant garde since the early ‘70s, with a catalogue of solo works and collaborations with the likes of Ghédalia Tazartès, Pascal Comelade, and Timo Van Luijk that marbles the margins of the European underground. ‘Boîte Boîte’ is as good a place as any to dive into Berrocal’s deep waters, with the artist himself offering a guided tour of nooks and crannies to his oeuvre, that Akuphone aptly describe as “like postcards from an unknown sender” to be “enjoyed without moderation.” In that latter sense, it’s a bottle to be imbibed in whole once uncorked, perhaps with a pack of tabs and lights low.
Some 44 years since he guested on NWW’s ‘To the Quiet Men from the Tiny Girl’, Berrocal unboxes rare and unreleased morsels from a reliquary of audities that tile up to a succinct, time-lapsed sort of self-portrait. The title piece depicts Berrocal grouchy and restless, upending crockery around discordant cello, whilst the prowling downbeat pop delusions of ‘Amarena’ distinguishes his range and recalls aspects of his recent works with Anne Gillis and Timo Van Luijk. There’s a rugged gem registered in the bolshy no wave clash of rock drum breaks, swarming electronic buzz and orgiastic samples laced to his extended wind chops in ‘Extaz’, and likewise the groggy downbeat psych skronk of ‘R.A.S.’, strewn with growing mutts and disjointed winds blowing in from other rooms reminds to Faust oddities and exemplifies his guess-again steez. But it’s definitely best taken in one, where the fixed and ephemeral sides of his output transcend the sum of its parts.
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Non pareil French trumpeter, avant gardist and NWW collaborator, Jac Berrocal, displays all his colours in this archival deep dive sequenced by the man himself for best summary of his disciplined but feral tekkerz; from jazz vapours to tape cut-ups, skronk, “pop delusions” and industrial razz outs - RIYL Alex Zhang Hungtai, Anne Gillis, Ghédalia Tazartès.
First introduced to ur-industrialists via NWW, then to the 2010’s wave via Blackest Ever Black, and recently showcased in jams with Anne Gillis by La Scie Dorée; Jacques Berrocal has been a mainstay of the gallic avant garde since the early ‘70s, with a catalogue of solo works and collaborations with the likes of Ghédalia Tazartès, Pascal Comelade, and Timo Van Luijk that marbles the margins of the European underground. ‘Boîte Boîte’ is as good a place as any to dive into Berrocal’s deep waters, with the artist himself offering a guided tour of nooks and crannies to his oeuvre, that Akuphone aptly describe as “like postcards from an unknown sender” to be “enjoyed without moderation.” In that latter sense, it’s a bottle to be imbibed in whole once uncorked, perhaps with a pack of tabs and lights low.
Some 44 years since he guested on NWW’s ‘To the Quiet Men from the Tiny Girl’, Berrocal unboxes rare and unreleased morsels from a reliquary of audities that tile up to a succinct, time-lapsed sort of self-portrait. The title piece depicts Berrocal grouchy and restless, upending crockery around discordant cello, whilst the prowling downbeat pop delusions of ‘Amarena’ distinguishes his range and recalls aspects of his recent works with Anne Gillis and Timo Van Luijk. There’s a rugged gem registered in the bolshy no wave clash of rock drum breaks, swarming electronic buzz and orgiastic samples laced to his extended wind chops in ‘Extaz’, and likewise the groggy downbeat psych skronk of ‘R.A.S.’, strewn with growing mutts and disjointed winds blowing in from other rooms reminds to Faust oddities and exemplifies his guess-again steez. But it’s definitely best taken in one, where the fixed and ephemeral sides of his output transcend the sum of its parts.