Christopher Clark is a long time personal favorite of mine.
His releases all occupy a perfectly comfortable space on the shelf with any and all of Warp Records’ finest.
Clark splits the difference between all of the labels’ elder statesmen and has carved out his very own style. The stark, clean productionof Autechre, chaotic, polyphonic atmospherics of Aphex, soulful, moody introspection of Boards of Canada, Plaid’s pretty playfulness.
Clark does it all. Consistently.
His forthcoming self-titled release is his 7th full length for Warp (and the 1st to bear his name.)
With this work, he seemingly set out to create something that crackles and twitches with all the relentless mechanized, industrial strength of techno, but marries it to atmospheric, field recording sounds that echo the post-rave (as a genre) but also as a sentiment.
The first released track, “Unfurla” feels like the musical actualization of an experience those of us on the West Coast are sadly deprived of come Autumn and Winter — raging hard all night long in a dark, hot sweaty club and then getting to walk into a brisk, wet grey morning.
That moment isn’t the beginning a comedown, but rather an exhilarating wake up call and affirmation of life.
That we exist in secret worlds and the world at large. That our bodies are fragile, shuddering things but also elastic sweaty, sinewy things propulsed by sound. That night falls and day breaks and we are free to do it all over again. And/or anything we please.