REVIEWS

NeonCoil
Non-Stop Electronic Cabaret

Klangdynamik Records

Posted: Wednesday, June 04, 2008
By: Matthew Johnson
Features Editor

With its neon cover art and an album title that pays homage to Soft Cell's legendary debut album, you could be forgiven for expecting campy electro-pop from Non-Stop Electronic Cabaret. It's true, NeonCoil's work does employ the repetitive arpeggios and unmistakably analog synthesizer effects of such pioneering artists as Tubeway Army or the aforementioned Soft Cell, but this album is entirely instrumental, and without the sardonic enthusiasm of a Gary Numan or Marc Almond on the microphone, the robotic clicks and twitters take an a much colder tone. Where many of the genre's seminal acts used the machinelike precision of drum machines and sequencers as a commentary on the growing technical isolation of the modern age, NeonCoil's compositions are rarely so direct, the exceptions being "Kolophon," a series of news reports about the impeachment of Russian president Boris Yeltsin played over an extended keyboard sequence, and "Renewal," which uses samples from Logan's Run mixed with tinny keys and spare rhythms to hint at the dark side of the pursuit of efficiency. Tracks like "Gelb" and "Terminus," on the other hand, simply seem to depict a purely computerized world, absent of any human imperfections or emotions. Intentionally or otherwise, this often comes off as faintly threatening, as on the simple but effective pair of arpeggios on "Antigon" nervously echoing over a clicking rhythm track, or even overtly ominous, as on the thick metallic chords of "Araboth." It's not all mechanized dread, however; "Headsequence" is cautiously cheerful, with birdlike chirps and twitters flickering above the slowly plodding bass line, and "Retrogram," while still feeling remote, is more contemplative than hostile. Still, this is music in celebration of machinery for its own sake; a far cry from Kraftwerk's humanistic paeans to technological achievement, Non-Stop Electronic Cabaret does its best to avoid references to humanity altogether. It makes for a listen that's discomfiting on a vague but primal level, and unlike similarly minimalist genres like acid house or even power noise, it doesn't work on the dance floor either, so there's no sense of shared human experience even in a hypothetical club setting. Still, in many ways that makes it all the more compelling, and NeonCoil's understated use of rhythm, melody, and sound lends itself to unexpectedly deep meditations on technology and music alike.