Forma - Self Titled [Spectrum Spools - 2011]This self-titled debut is a re-release of a severely limited cassette that Forma, a trio from Bushwick, New York, put out earlier in the year to serve up highlights from their synth jams. Apparently, working duties get divided cleanly between melodic and rhythmic dimensions where Mark Dwinell and Sophie Lam get to play with most of the exhibits in their museum of old synths covering several Rolands and Yamahas with a Moog and Farfisa added for good measure, while George Bennett sticks to a couple of old drum machines. Predictably, perhaps, given the stubbornly analogue, almost antiquated, status of their electronic arsenal, their sound seems to be a homage to the pioneering work of Kosmische musicians such as Cluster and Kraftwerk while at the same time referencing both the minimalism of Riley and Reich and the so-called minimal synth non-genre that attempts to link obscure eighties synth-led music with today’s new wave of analogue-fetishists currently orbiting scene leaders Emeralds and Oneohtrix Point Never. It comes as no surprise, then, to learn that Spectrum Spools, a new label that seems to be largely dedicated to rescuing new electronic music from the revitalised cassette format, is co-run by Emeralds’ own John Elliott giving parent label Editions Mego a prospecting portal through which to extract gold from this otherwise oversaturated of styles. Being strictly improvised only edits Forma can make in their music are when deciding on the beginning and end of their recorded tracks that are merely numbered in name. While this may normally suggest a wayward set of chaotic chance encounters, Forma’s improv is, on the contrary, highly polished and process-based where each piece feels like a careful and considered set of smooth arpeggios triggered and muted on the fly while danceable beats move in and out of motorik impressions. Despite the arrangements being, in essence, rigidly repetitive most of the time, the instabilities within the analogue sounds keep things interesting and warm throughout. Indeed, the combinations of sugary melodic lines busily travelling through each other at a constant tempo are unashamedly and consistently happy in tone - a marked contrast with most other of today’s electronic experiments. And it is this cheeriness when played with yester-years’ timbres that most strongly reminds of the sounds of children’s television from the late seventies and early eighties (as Boards of Canada did last decade). Tracks like Forma211 suggests a stop-motion cartoon of space creatures waking up in their alien forest to another care-free day of exploration and fun, while Forma33B is a sprightly whistling march describing a busy town’s happy industry. If Forma’s music were edible it would be a bag of brightly coloured sweets – if you don’t eat too many it can provide a welcome relief from the more common, often over-earnest, umami of today’s electronica. Russell Cuzner
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