Album Review: Federico Balducci & fourthousandblackbirds –‘Succulent Succubus’ : probing and powerful philosophical-drone music bursting with ideas.

The Breakdown

‘Succulent Succubus’ often seems to shun being measured, at times appearing intriguingly unpredictable, often fractious while in other moments peacefully serene.

Difficult Art And Music – 8.9

Writing about any music released via the defiantly unconventional Difficult Art and Music imprint should not be a straightforward undertaking and maybe the task exposes the gaping flaws in the reviewing game. What is good, why compare, what is shallow, why is this deep and who says so? All a reviewer really does is say how something sounds to them in the hope of making others curious enough to listen. So here goes, a take on the latest Difficult Art and Music delivery ‘Succulent Succubus’ by Federico Balducci & fourthousandblackbirds.

Beginning with context. Balducci is Puerto Rican, a guitarist and composer who gets located within the ambient/experimental/modern classical section. He writes loads of short film/documentary soundtracks and studied music at Berklee (which is cool). fourthousandblackbirds is a project not a person but the person behind the project is Montreal based, audio-visual artist Albérick. Textures not tunes make fourthousandblackbirds fly, circling around the anthropocene battered soundscape for inspiration, field-recordings for decaying times. The duo have worked together virtually since 2018 but don’t risk the Simon & Garfunkel thing, they’ve never met. Instead they focus on distanced but judicious music making together (check ‘Transgression (An Homage to Georges Bataille)’ from last year) and now comes another expression in the shape of ‘Succulent Succubus’.

Cue the music. A strapline reserved by reviewers for the partnership’s work is ‘philosophical drone’ which is neat, suggesting complexity, connectivity and tonal minimalism. But ‘Succulent Succubus’ seems to shun being measured, at times appearing intriguingly unpredictable, often fractious while in other moments peacefully serene. Take the unwinding reveal of Synchronicity where a loop of peeling bells modulates eerily before a mechanical distorted grind dominates. The piece’s conclusion, all tingling textures from guitar and keyboard, tip toes subconsciously into your listening. Then there’s the macabre title track which opens with starry vocal and string wonderment while an ominous drone swells. Buried in the surge snatches of a news-voice commentary can be heard, warning about someone (or something) ‘authoritarian’, ‘ever powerful’, ‘unelectable’. The end is tellingly sudden.

Albérick’s and Balducci’s cocktail of sonic imagery may be intense and their Albert Camus guided exploration of life’s absurdity a dense prospect but, much like Lawrence English, they approach the themes with flare and focus which ensure that proceedings never drag. Opener Digital Witchcraft sees an abiding buzz, cawing crows, sweet birdsong and tentative notes lay the foundation of an inventive and powerfully elemental drone. The pair also show their attention to dramatic detail in the track’s sampled narration which swings from seemingly celebrating the psychic qualities of crystals to a preachified condemnation of their hold on ‘young people’. Over those burrowing electronics the line ‘once you go to that crystal, you are invoking demons’ delivers a ‘My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts’ level chill.

Elsewhere there are frequent quirky, engaging surprises: the rhythmic zip and proto-dub inflection of Mussels Muscles; the chiming synth and vocoder-ish vocal of the pop toned Vacuum; and on George Washington never knew dinosaurs existed, the full show of chamber strings encountering a whir of electronic drills. Balducci’s compositional influence also shows in the melodic structures that regularly surface on the album. Flies Part 1 and Part 2 both revolve sombrely around some stately orchestrated synth progressions distilled through a white noise mesh. Then on the profound Up to 15 years in prison and fines of up to 5 million rubles, his emotive jazz guitar is critical in delivering a gently moving appeal that’s parallel to Ezra Feinberg’s exquisite slow music.

All across ‘Succulent Succubus’ the ideas and interpretations tumble, often with a giddying rapidity. Unlike some drone music the intention is not ambience. The pieces, sixteen in all, are relatively brief and succinct. Inspired by chemical reactions, Victorian tales of visitation, astrological rumour and the natural end, the partnership’s music is not for bathing or drifting. No, on ‘Succulent Succubus’ Balducci and fourthousandblackbirds prod and poke you with ideas, keeping you alert and thinking with their tantalising sonic artistry. The duo make perfect sense and welcome in lively discussion.