If you have a mailman/woman that you trust and who handles your packages with care, hold her/him; hold her/him CLOSE because my mailman is a sadistic jagoff who glories in leaving my heavenly vinyl packages out in 90 degrees worth of sun so they can warp and twist themselves up like a pornstar’s asshole. SDZ Records went through the much-appreciated trouble of sending me the thick-as-a-brick vinyl version of Mulan Serrico’s Discret in the mail, all the way from France (I think; maybe they have a U.S. distributor or something?), and after six hours in the baking sun I can barely get my turntable needle to stick on it. It’s not a tragedy, but… wait, yes, it’s totally a tragedy, what am I saying? I can barely eat when it happens (a lovely Landing LP, on green wax, met a similar fate and is now in pieces on a shrine in my record room), much less bring myself to write up a review. Then again, that’s life, in all its rich-bitch glory, so I’ll just be happy to have this badass slab in the first place. Serrico combines Germany Army vocals with upbeat arrangements that strike me as somewhat coldwave-y despite the energy behind them. What differentiates Discret from the droves of uptempo beatmasters is its avant approach to accompaniment. The beat and its ulterior layers may stay the same for long stretches, stretches that could grow stale in the wrong mitts, but the sonic overload of the extra synths and effects easily compensate for what can only be described as a fist-to-the-face brand of keep-it-simple-stupid aesthetic. This is what I thought those mediocre Perturbator records were going to sound like, and booooy was I disappointed by that guy; Serrico more than makes it right, pounding their four-on-the-flizzy beats like fresh dough and tossing their spiraling samples high in the air like a fledgling spherical crust (which will soon be adorned with cheese and enough grease to kill a small animal). For my money “Les voluptés de l’autodénigrement et de l’autorédemption,” the final track/nail in Discret’s coffin, is the way to go, flaunting slick sequences circa Doom Asylum (though the latter is a techno act all the way) and the momentum of a jacked-up truck with its gas pedal jammed into the depths of hell. With a hint of wackiness on par with, say, a much, much, much tamer Les Georges Leningrad, and the ability to put asses in the seats and feet on the dancefloor, Serrico carves out an ambitious path on Discret that could branch out in any direction from here, as this guy most likely grows to the size of his cage like an Oscar fish. Looking forward/hoping to hear more, that’s for sure. Over and out, playa.
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