It has been a little while since the last Map 71 release and Lisa Jayne and Andy Pyne‘s return finds them stretching the boundaries of their mysterious universe. Always difficult to categorise, the seven tracks presented here show even more scope in their tribal noise attack, with Lisa’s vocals particularly diverse ranging from half-expected spoken ruminations to more feral and freer wordless outbursts.
Various samples have also been used to supplement Andy’s irrepressible and endlessly inventive beats, and opener “Machine Emotion” has staccato violin scrapes crowding Lisa’s deadpan delivery. There is something almost oppressive about the synthscape which suits the lyric about the possible perils of this modern world, wariness offset by a matter of factness. The live drums take many forms and have a metallic vitality, whereas the synths also shapeshift but in a much more threatening way. The hard connection between the real and the synthesised is what keeps the air tense.
Synths conjure shadows and city darkness while Lisa’s wordless ululations on “Nightbird” share that spectral air with loops that circle and shake. The slow creep evokes empty streets and a sodium-lit world of questions and observations, and Lisa’s words find room for a variety of edgy or troubled characters as keyboards and samples topple around the sturdy beat. “Shadow Strata” contains a few words over a surge of apocalyptic dread, while “Rayshara Dow” has a tribal edge while Lisa asks “Take this and slowly memorise every face”. The things she requests and the observations she makes are in a way a little uncomfortable, and make us question how we see the world. As the words flow, so the oppressive electronic tone increases.The voice is in a self-imposed limbo on “Shimmer Riven” and is tortured by sharp slabs of malevolent noise that are timed with the hard drum kicks. It doesn’t really let up until the final track when the voice is swathed in echo and reverb, and a stately procession of intoning sounds shimmers in a tambourine haze.
Sadly over in little less than half an hour, this is nevertheless an impressive furthering of Map 71’s unique sound. To know they are out there lurking on the edges, warping your sensibilities while pushing you onto the feral, sticky dancefloor is absolutely essential, as is The Feral Jinx.-Mr Olivetti-
