The Man Behind the Mask

The album cover is a good starting point for trying to decode the eponymous new LP from English DJ/Producer, Chris Clark. The cover displays a headshot of Clark, though his neck and featureless face are covered in a burnished black coating. The first question that arises is why would someone self-title their sixth record, and then put their own image on the cover only to obscure it?

The answer could be perhaps that even though Clark has been releasing critically well-received albums ever since his 2001 Warp Records debut, Clarence Park, he hasn’t seen the same mainstream success as some of his Warp label mates, which include some of electronic music’s most well-known names including Aphex Twin, Flying Lotus, Brian Eno and even Grizzly Bear.

It may be said that what makes these aforementioned artists so celebrated is that they possess an at once recognizable sound, so that upon hearing a few beats, the electronically trained ear can easily put a face to a style. This is largely impossible with Clark, due to his indigenous and often incognito sound, which over the years is the style he has come to master. His skills are sharper than ever on Clark.

The album opens with the brief but haunting interlude “Ship is Flooding,” which ushers the listener into the deep sinking bass beats on top of which Clark piles heavy industrial-inspired synths to build up “Winter Linn.” Representative of the twists and turns that Clark makes as it moves along, “Unfurla” literally unfurls, pitting a rather recognizable four-four club thumping beat against samples of steel drums and dark pipe organ-styled synths. This darkened dance club motif continues on “Sodium Trimmers” which similarly incorporates heavy-duty drum and bass with heavily stylized machine-made samples.

Later on, “Snowbird” experimentally mellows out the previously set pace, though it fails to take flight. However, the experimentation does pay off on the screechy, feedback infused “The Grit in the Pearl.” During the course of the sprawling seven plus minute “There’s A Distance In You,” Clark combines all his powers, highlighting over the course of the track many of the attributes which worked so well separately on the album’s preceding offerings. The song begins slowly, with high-pitched samples plucked at intervals over a steady and straightforward beat, into which the spacey synths slowly begin to bleed, taking things to a more heart-pounding level until Clark pulls the plug and suddenly slows the song down into aria of angelic trumpets. These trumpets help to transition into the final track, the heavenly sounding “Everlane,” on which a church choir of children’s voices coos gentle oohs, which are interwoven with a symphony of soft strings.

With the close of the album, the conclusion that could be reached from the question posed earlier is that Clark does not make music meant for the casual listener. Rather he at times accosts the ears of those who dare to listen to his music. Though for those few brave enough to take up this challenge and attempt to decipher the deeper meanings sown in amongst the multiple layers of sound, the rewards to be reaped are well worth the effort put forth.