Available on: Planet Mu LP
Planet Mu has never been a label with much thought for tradition. Prolific by nature, the label has always fashioned itself as a haven for eccentric fragments of electronic peculiarity â whether thatâs the beserk clamour of Slugabed and Raffertie or the vintage âardkore of Bizzy B. This year it seems, is no different, as the label veer even further off-course with Internal Tulipâs debut album, Mislead into a Field by a Deformed Deer.
Comprised of two Mu stalwarts, Lexaunculpt (Alex Graham) and Electric Company (Brad Laner), the Tulips masterfully splice spacious â60s pop with twitching, skittish electronics. Itâs staring you in the face so itâs worth addressing; the albumâs title, track titles and even the bandâs name feel â well, maybe a bit bewildering. It feels almost forced, and really, thereâs no need to shoe-horn in surplus curiosities to this particular album. Itâs a bit like adding gaudy neon lighting to a Morris Minor; the swelling, treated violins of tracks like album opener â1/2 Retarded Tuner of Hurricanesâ are fine without that extra abnormality.
However, these gripes are forgotten within seconds of Mislead. Fraught with emotional intensity, the Internal Tulips have mastered a sort of aural time clash, where classic pop sensibilities are left deformed by the electronics often strewn around Planet Mu releases.
Itâs an impressive balancing act, and leads to an oddly pleasing, fragile median on tracks like the petal-delicate âBee Calmedâ. Then, sat between the cold reverberations of digital futures and the balmy haze of a retro-fetishistâs view of the 1960s, the strings of â9 Tomorrowsâ are punctuated with robotic blips and automated creaks, creating an end result that could have come from the swinging 2060s, a robot Phil Spector behind the boards.
This delicate balance deftly stays on the right side of a forced quality, avoiding any sort of awkward retrofit clichĂ©s. Itâs almost as if the Internal Tulips have reinvented what it is to adopt a âretroâ sound. Rather than simply re-using the sounds of decades past for their own needs, Messrs Graham and Laner attempt to reinvent the â60s as their own curious, digital decade.
Misleadâs airy pop sits naturally amongst the lamentation of Bon Iver-esque like âParasolâ, âHoshizaki Bluesâ and âArlieâ. Mournful without ever becoming tiresome, these achingly poignant moments are fleshed out by the sort of cascading electronics and flittering vocal filters that Justin Vernon should consider taking with him next time he heads to his log cabin. âLog Thin Heartâ offers another folky reprieve; a steady rattle through a beautiful, radio static rinsed campfire song, while âInvalid Terraceâ takes these ballads to a new dimension; warped frequencies and distorted injections of childrenâs laughter disrupting the trackâs piano-led sigh.
âWe Breatheâ is a puzzling addition to the album. An phenomenal pop song, having it close an album of sparse, atmospheric pieces gives the impression that youâve listened to a 35 minute intro and only now are the songs beginning. Itâs a forgivable sin however, as said âintroductionâ contains some of the most sublime atmospherics and heart-rending artistry recently committed to audio.
Overall, the Internal Tulips imbue this album with an indefinable quality â euphoric abstraction runs through every moment, from the barely-audible guitar of âWe Breatheâ to the snatches of vocals (âshe already got all my George Harrison albumsâ) tucked away in âMy Babyâ, every touch here is immaculate and wonderfully preposterous. Strewn with feeling, wonderfully imagined and beautiful conceived, you couldnât ask for an LP with more personality, emotion, guts and soul.
Mike Coleman