Boomkat Product Review:
Whew, we have a fucking hot one! Belgian double bassist Ann Eysermans duets with her dog, Shadoh, on a brilliantly inventive suite flirting with new beat, doomcore, choral chamber music and concrète cut-ups after spinning us out with her 2022 debut - a total doozy for fans of Teresa Winter, Graham Lambkin, Oï les Ox, Jandek, Coil, BJ Nilsen & Sigtryggur Berg Sigmarsson.
After exploring one of our lowkey fascinations with ‘For Trainspotters Only’, Eysermans uncannily covers another subset of our tastes with ‘Moonlight Shadoh’, featuring her titular canine bezzie sampled and arranged in genuinely beguiling slants on contemporary-classic Euro avant garde, noise and dance musicks. Of course we’re not so solipsistic to think it was made for us, but jeez she doesn’t half pique this writer’s interests across the album, conjuring a febrile fantasy of generic juxtapositions and interspecies jams that perplex and bring us strange joy at every turn. It’s genuinely weird yet highly disciplined stuff that dares to magpie choice morsels of style and technique from multiple angles and niches spanning 100’s of years of musical practice, and recombine them in genuinely unique, refreshing and transportive ways.
Aside to incidental inclusions on the likes of RZA’s Ghostdog OST or Muslimgauze records, and the B-side to Ronce’s ‘Lolita’ 7”, hardly any records that make use of dogs quite like ‘Moonlight Shadoh’ spring to mind, and even then not like this one. From Shadoh’s barks over floating organ and tattered concrète textures in ‘Min Liefste’ to his yelps and musical whimpers in ‘Moonlight Shadow’, or territorial warnings over V/Vm-style darkside new beat in ‘Blafmans’, they’re a persistent and vital presence, and Eysermans love for her pal is palpable throughout. On ‘PUMPST’ we hear Ann anthropomorphising Shadoh with extended contrabass tekkerz that give way to gorgeous, subtly curdled choral composition, and if you squint ears enough, coming on like Fifth Era with a mutt on a string at the oddest ends of a squat party in ‘Intersystem Crossings’, all culminating in a proper noisy blow-out, and Jandek-like tortured romance on ‘Only The Best’ that duly fucks with what we thought of her music previously, and places Eysermans well out on her own.