Baal and Mortimer – Deixis

Bureau B

You know that you are in for a mysterious journey when the artist’s name Baal and Mortimer turns out to be a pseudonym for one Alexandra Grubler. Her ability to fuse sparse electronics with disembodied but somehow compelling vocals is really rather impressive, and for each of the thirteen vignettes compiled here, the mood changes subtly, often hesitant, the sounds hiding in shadows, stretching and pulling at the listener.

The slow mournful feel of opener “Atopos”, with its echoing pulse and unsteady vocals looking to disguise themselves, is quite different to the Anoni-like vocals of “Prostheses”, which is a halting, soft-focus affair with the vocals coming and going as the piece progresses. Elsewhere, when the vocals do appear without effects, I was reminded of His Name Is Alive, as on “Kingdom Rest”, but as if the sounds had been submerged in a brackish lake, the track dripping in the light as the vocal hovers, hiding in plain sight. The skeletal frame of the music barely supports the vocal, but there is space all around for the listener to inject their own thoughts.

Due to the addition of Robert Schulte‘s drum machine, “Showcase” has an hypnotic and addictive beat to it which, when broken down, feels like the rhythm of some complex machinery adrift in an outdoor environment, while “The Moths”‘ stark synths are just a matter of sparse notes and vocodered vocals which somehow manage to accomplish so much with so little. What sounds like a zither appears on “Caryatid Fall”, and here the vocals are multiplied, vying with one another, cajoling and shuffling places. These simple ingredients sit together so well on each track, always with the feeling of a breeze or some outdoor sensation, slightly steamy yet undisturbed.

A hint of Eyeless in Gaza appears on “Nathanael”, and it is here that you sense these would make a good piece from a soundtrack; the echoing footsteps beg the question “Who is Nathanel?” and where has he gone? He could have jumped on the train that supplies the rhythm to “Kothurn”, the spasming electronics adding dusty fingerprints to the personal search. The hopping from feeling to feeling does give a soundtrack feel the more you make your way through the tracks, and the more you pick at the disparate rhythmic elements. “The Ship Of Fangs” is all accordion and drone; a grey dawn, an abandoned vessel, the disparate elements making up the beat encounter space in which to move and unwind.

It is a really impressive selection of tracks which ends with the almost non-existent “Arthur’s Moon”, in which the vocals are trying to vanish as the gossamer synths almost dissipate before your ears. The press release suggests that the subject of autonomy amongst others is being explored here and the album manages that perfectly. Deixis exists in its own right, like an electronic mosaic that affords a worn and indistinct frame for the wonderfully curious vocals. A triumph.

-Mr Olivetti-