Anne Gillis, Jac Berrocal, Vincent Epplay, Timo van Luijk

Si()six

Genre: ELECTRONIC

LP (Black Vinyl)

Boomkat Product Review:

'Si()six' is a collaboration recorded in 2022 that links the enigmatic Anne Gillis with avant-garde trumpet vet Jac Berrocal, La Scie Dorée boss and one half of Elodie Timo van Luijk, and sound artist Vincent Epplay, who assembled and mixed the recordings.

'Si()six' is one of those rare collaboration albums that seems to have come from nowhere. There aren't many details about its genesis, but apparently it was a chance recording that developed over several years of encounters and mutual respect. Gillis has been unexpectedly prolific in recent years, since she re-appeared in 2021 with the now iconic '«…»', and her connection with Luijk is clear, since he handled the recent re-issue of her 1984 masterpiece 'Aha'. Berrocal, who's been recording since the early '60s and has collaborated with Jaki Liebezeit, Ghédalia Tazartès and Pierre Bastien, and contributed to Vidéo-Aventures cult classic 'Camera (In Focus)', has recorded extensively with Eppley for the last decade. At some point in 2022, the ad hoc ensemble met at Judeo Studio Villejuif and pooled their talent; Berrocal's muted trumpet is suspended in the aether like a breath from another age, and Gillis's spine-tingling whispers and tape manipulations are pushed into the foreground, while Luijk adds tempered, celestial instrumental notes and Epplay spins the performance into a coherent narrative.

It's a rare set of music that manages to broach darkness at an obtuse angle, using relatively well-worn murky motifs (vaporous jazz, sewer noise, distorted sound poetry) in deceptively hallucinogenic ways. The four piece's restraint is particularly luminous; 'Si()six' isn't capsized by the contributors' outsized skillsets, but floats intentionally through sparse, pitch-black waters, focusing on just a few sounds at a time to provoke deep, deliberate listening. Grotty sampled music-hall stabs twist around a barely-audible, popping 4/4 on the crackpot 'Si Jamais', creating a smoggy atmosphere that's only elevated by Berrocal's evocative curlicues. It's back alley jazz in some sense, but reduced to its trace elements and re-animated by Luijk's toned glitches and Gillis's dramatic, poetic delivery. 'Avec les Oiseaux' transforms Gillis's voice into whooping bird calls that fractalize alongside Berrocal's library whorls, and on 'Rêve(s), she whispers into the magnetic tape, extending her syllables into hisses over Luijk's vertiginous drones.

It's beautifully understated gear, but packs a hell of punch. 'Chat Gris' even gustier, with rubbery string twangs that concertina around dubby, penetrating kicks and, yes, cat sounds, while 'A Tout Prendre' takes the ensemble's sounds deep into the church catacombs, swirling around the gutter in a whirpool of tweezed static and disorienting gurgles.

LP (Black Vinyl) (12)