Bibio, aka Stephen Wilkinson, has dropped his first album, Ambivalence Avenue, for the much venerated Warp records, following his time spent on Mush. It is a hazy lo-fi summer mix tape of a record, picking up on the melody of sixties and seventies pop, with an eclectic and updated glitch edge. His sound is probably most reminiscent of Boards of Canada (who apparently brought him to wider attention) and Koushik, who’s releases on the Stones Throw label are downbeat 60s pysche pop, soul and hip hop offerings with soft layered vocals drifting over, that occupy much the same space . Perhaps Ambivalence Avenue’s most surprising attribute though is this marrying the sound of the releases that built Warp records throughout the 90s and early 2000s, with undeniably appealing West Coast American pop.
Despite the similarities, Ambivalence Avenue has a wider, more varied base from which it draws inspiration than any of Koushik’s records to date. Bibio has dramatically expanded his sound, adding song structure, moving far beyond the ambition of the solid but somewhat limited Compost. Ambivalence Avenue effortlessly breezes through genres, maintaining coherence and wearing its influences on its sleeve; from the warped Sly Stone wah wah guitar funk of ‘Jealous of Roses’, with distant echoing vocals mixed down in the track, to the Boards of Canada homage ‘Sugarette’, which adds squelches of bass, cut up vocoder snippets and spectrum-esque bleeps and FX to the formula, while keeping the same dreamy atmospheric aesthetic.
Bibio doesn’t have the stylistic limitations of some of the Warp stalwarts most strongly associated with label, stretching his range far beyond the glitch electronic template. ‘Lovers Carving’ has a sunny and simultaneously melancolie guitar line leading into a lilting, uplifting, West Coast pop inflenced, hand clap driven number, with a hint of (now increasingly prominent) African melody. Maybe, dare I say it, even a touch of Paul Simon drifts into the mix. There is an indie folk presence, acoustic tracks where dreamy vocals and harmonies weave in and out, distorted harpsicord, bouncing flute, and wonky guitar loops infiltrate, while ‘The Palm of Your Wave’ sounds like a mellow Neil Young offering circa the After the Gold Rush era.The problem is that I can’t shake the feeling I’ve heard it all before, just not on the same album. It could be recreated through a compilation of the likes of Koushik, Manitoba (Caribou), Jackson and his Computer Band, Sly Stone, Boards of Canada, Four Tet, Neil Young, Flying Lotus and various Warp contributors. The transitions might not be as seamless, but the overall outcome would be the same. It could be said that this is the albums strength, its readymade feel, already in tune with what you want to hear next, but what Bibio lacks is a distinctive or definable sound to call his own; too often he is just content to emulate his inspirations, instead of taking a more progressive or avant-garde approach.
This is perhaps best personified on the cut up soul of ‘Fire Ant’, that starts out like a twisted J-Dilla or DJ Premier beat, before progressing with chopped vocals, synths and a fractured rhythm, but instead of forging into entirely new territory, ends up sounding like fellow Warp alumni Jackson, and the (so labelled) ‘intelligent dance music’ he served up on on tracks such as ‘Hard Tits’ or ‘Utopia’ on Smash in 2005 . The album closer ‘Dwrcan’ similarly suffers, which despite its hypnotising beat and ethereal sounds, feels like the it could be a contribution from of any number of Warp artists; the title even sounds like an Aphex Twin tribute. Too frequently the album comes across as offcuts of Campfire Headphase, Trans-Canada Highway, Out My Window, or Up in Flames. Indeed it could be argued that Boards of Canada, the much underrated Jackson et al accomplish some of these sounds with more panache and a more audacious approach.
The record is undeniably broad and still succinct, smoothly moving from one style to another, presenting a selection of well crafted and enjoyable songs, like a pre-made soundtrack to a dazed August road trip in some indefinable time period, or the score to your scattershot memories from summers past. It is without doubt a gratifying experience, not least because Bibio has good taste, and an album that will appeal to fans of all the artists mentioned above, but is that in itself really enough? What value is emulation, no matter how accomplished, without progression?
GE
