Search - Matmos :: Supreme Balloon

Matmos gone all colorful

J. Mccarther | Houston, TX USA | 07/03/2008

(4 out of 5 stars)

"My perception of Matmos (mostly from hearing A Chance to Cut is a Chance to Cure) was one of a rather abstract, intentionally offbeat, but surgically precise laptoptronica outfit. Though on Civil War they were a bit more playful, this album seems totally foreign. They utilize alot of legendary modular synthesizers for this one, so analog enthusiasts will be greatly pleased. The music is definitely not very pop friendly. Something akin to a marriage of Walter Carlos and concept albums from Yes. Some really long compositions on here, and everything from from chattering computer noise to deep brooding subterranean synth. I like it."

Synth alert!

E. A Solinas | MD USA | 05/10/2008

(4 out of 5 stars)

"Be forewarned: Matmos has embraced synth, and every burp, blip and wave that comes with it.



In fact, their latest album "Supreme Balloon" is inflated to maximum with endless quantities of synth, and they seem pretty determined to use every last shred. And while not as endearing as their more organic past work, it does sound like a maddened musician was let loose in a room full of computers -- wonky, silly and lightheartedly spacey.



It opens with a weird fluttery noise... which turns out to be a beat that runs throughout "Rainbow Flag." No real vocals here -- just a weird frolicksome beat that sounds like a video game in the middle of an acid trip. About two-thirds of the way through, some little trippy fairy voices join in the song, getting shriller as the wonky song winds down.



Then they take the exact opposite approach with "Polychords" -- this one is all electronic stomp, which devolves into a spacey, grim trip riddled with shimmery moog. And then we get all kinds of intensely synthy weirdness -- chirpy schizophrenic dancepop, a prolonged quiver of echoing synth, and a spacey little electro-ambient ballad that just sort of floats off. It sounds like a bunch of stoned aliens abducting people.



But wait!



There's also a twenty-five-minute-long title track, whose apparent ambition is to cram every kind of compatible electronic music into one... long... song. It opens with a sort of growly bubbling sound, and evolves through electronic pop to trippy dance, from wonky experimental stuff back to a sort of odd growly space-electrorock.



Frankly it took me a LONG time to figure out if I even liked "Supreme Balloon" -- upon hearing the first sharp electronic blips, my first thought was, "Good Lord, I need to go listen to an album about roses having teeth in the mouth of a beast!"



But after I listened to the first few songs -- and yes, even the gargantuan title track -- I started to like it. There's a sunny, weird exuberance to this music, as if you're watching a bunch of mildly insane robots having some kind of festival. There are moments of excessive artiness, but their brand of techno manages to be both fun and extremely strange at the same time.



And the synthesizers do a pretty wild job here -- they flutter, dart, screech, chirp like a cricket, pop, squirt, blip, burp, slurp, shimmer and squiggle. We have everything from waves of stately mellotron to grimy stomping synth, eruptions of video-game carnival sounds to a stretch of gentle, wintry ambient music. Yet gods, I'm not even sure what half these sounds come from.



The most daunting of all these songs is undoubtedly the title track, with its half-hour runtime and ever-shifting sound. But as eccentric as this song is, it really shows the expanse of what Matmos can do, even with restricted instruments.



Matmos' first venture into pure, unadulterated synth is a risky one, and the result isn't their best work. But "Supreme Balloon" has a weird, sunny charm all its own."

Paradise of the Sound!

Rafael Cova | Caracas, Venezuela | 02/03/2009

(5 out of 5 stars)

"Matmos are back with an album this time created entirely by using synthesizers. Not your sleek stealth-technology looking consoles mind you, but the big old analogue systems, brimming with patch-bays, ancient oscillators, and the kind of blipping oscilloscopes that set the hearts of all space cadets a-flutter.

The recordings include three decades worth of Arps, Korgs, Rolands, Waldorfs, and Moogs with a list of modulars that boasts Electro-Comp, Akai, and Doepfer systems. And they even found a way around their No Human Voices rule by bringing in Marshall Allen of "The Sun Ra Arkestra" on Electronic Voice Instrument, a breath-controlled oscillator, for the aptly titled track "Mister Mouth."

Over the course of the seven songs, the pair maximizes the possibilities of their self-imposed gauntlet, achieving an amazing array of feelings from tracks that are all made of essentially the same simple elements. From "Polychords", which hops and bumps like a dance party filled with bullfrogs, to breathy album-ender "Cloudhopper", which turns the same eerie bleeps and chirps into a dwindling melancholic serenade.

Balloon's title track is definitely the album's defining piece. An absolute marathon of a song, it clocks in at 24 minutes and evolves heroically from a drone, to a tentative warble, then into the anticipatory takeoff of an orchestra of bleeps and chords, through trills and squeals, finally sputtering and slowing into a quiet, distorted finish. It's a long but elated ride.

As far as truly accomplishing a complete thought, Supreme Balloon is Matmos' most effective album yet. Maybe it is because the simple idea frees them from their sometimes overarching ambition, or maybe it's because they are just beginning to perfect songwriting on a long leash. Whatever the reason, the seven tracks come together perfectly.

And because Matmos never disappoint when recreating their music in person they have been known to spend extra money shipping strange items like rat cages to their own performances Supreme Balloon leaves us looking forward to finding out how they plan to lug around all those synths."