"O" - Numero o (Antenna)
"'O' is not music," proclaims "O" member Yann on the back cover of their new full-length, but I don't need the liner note manifesto to convince me. The recordings of plinking and plucking contained on numero o never quite near the cohesion of "rhythm," "melody" or "songs." No, the band—err, "French minimalist orchestra non orchestra," is less concerned with writing songs than a crack addict on his way to the pawn shop with a newly-stolen guitar.
On tracks like "pi desert" "O" juxtaposes Hans Reichel-style acoustic dissonance with distorted heavy-metal-sounding flute, bells and seemingly-random electronics. The elements cut in and out, without flow, never "kicking in," never providing enough groove to create surprise, never enough tension to create release.
Don't get me wrong here: Even the album's chaotic aimlessness isn't the problem. If the ideas or the parts themselves were engaging, intriguing, neat, even, the album would be worth a few listens. But there isn't enough substance to create an atmosphere or envelop the listener. Each element is mind-numbingly simple, boring, flat.
No, "O" is not music, says Yann, "the listeners make it music. So the listener is the only artist involved and must work towards building new music." And if I'm the artist to blame for this, well, shame on me.
