We live in such disconnected times that the infamous “electronic hype” of the year no longer exists. Remember when dubstep and wonky Were they the only terms allowed to access the conversation? Or when Amnesia Scanner, Andy Stott, Lopatin and Shackleton represented, in turn, the new digital present? Some of these will then have turned out to be will-o'-the-wisps, as is normal in such environments. Yet, between excited listeners and eternal wary detractors, there was still discussion surrounding the evolution of electronic music. A phenomenon that now appears somewhat diluted, due to timeline personalized by algorithms, highly self-referential mini-bubbles and many nightclubs closed by a post-pandemic generation that prefers to interact online.
The Two Shell duo, the name behind which we now know Patrick Edward Lewis and Jack Riou Benson, employed a long strategy of guerrilla marketing to troll the public and journalists through misdirection, hoaxes and camouflage, with the clear intent of sewing around that mysterious aura that smacks of the Banksi-fication of dance music. A ploy which finally worked, given the media attention; unfortunately, however, unlike a Burial who is naturally shy in front of the spotlight and then enchants on record, the artificial “Two Shell” leaves a lot to be desired once you get to the crux of listening. This is because the chosen ingredients are nothing more than the usual three little things in the cross, misrepresented in key bass with a deconstructivist attitude post-club: rambling rhythms (“₊˚⊹gimmi it”), natural absence of melodism even in the presence of the voice (“/inside//”), and a frenzied recycling of every electronic trend of the last twenty years (“be somebody”), without thereby drawing out a personal signature.
Between altered voices (“be gentle with me”, “Everybody Worldwide”), rhythms rave (nice though drumming on “dreamcast”) and the usual looting pc-music by AG Cook and Danny L Harle (the d'n'b hints of “Stars..”) and Posh Isolation (“>”), these thirteen forgettable soundbyte they are incapable of creating emotional tension, distracted like goldfish in an empty aquarium. The titles in unpronounceable characters matter little, the album continually fluctuates between the abstractionism of Koreless and the mood swings of a Mura Masa who has run out of guests to invite.
Even the tonal research is lacking, replaced here by an omnipresent patina of shiny plastic in HD that we had already heard on Hudson Mohawke's works over a decade ago. Is it possible that the maximum offered by contemporaneity is the post-ironic rereading of the lightning frequencies of a TikTok?
Two Shell's dance therefore seems to work a little better as dj setperhaps mixed together with other people's songs in a multipurpose concoction that can make you smile – the two have already played at both Primavera and Coachella, demonstrating that they have good managerial support behind them, also thanks to the association with the Young brand, under the which, not surprisingly, comes from compatriot Jamie XX. But in album format, “Two Shell” is a bloodless and colorless, not to say stale, exercise, a serger so not very clever that it dispels any surprise with the first listen and leaves behind only a profound sense of emptiness. After all, once we have arrived at fine-tuning the definitive meta-post-everything listening, what remains? That's right, nothing.
05/11/2024
Antonio Santini for SANREMO.FM
