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Carlos Giffoni, "I am Real"
Dropping the second release from his Rotten LP series Giffoni brings a chaotic bag of smash and grab noise with a suite of dented robotic sex music and detached damage. The odd choice of title manages to claim individualism and defiance while skirting the inherent hip-hop parody and is represented in the cross section of styles that he turns his bank of electronics to mauling with precision.No Fun
This is a enjoyably harsh but not a wholly enjoyable listen that’s nowhere near as satisfying as his recent Welcome Home and Giffoni seems to have picked most of these chunks of bitter digital blasts purposefully as part of an attention grabbing barrage as opposed to fitting a running theme.
Moving almost too fast for the mind to catch a hold of is the burbling, twisting loop of “Period.” It makes up 90% of its structure as it sits on huffs of steel grey static which seem to boil on contact with air. The loop soon becomes a digital deluge of squelching water forced down a fibre optic drainpipe and its brevity is welcome as it appears to bubble on the spot as opposed to the movement with which he normally endows his music.
The nearest this LP gets to a perceivable structure and progress is the industrial-lite techno stomp of “Addiction,” which soon breaks up and then rights itself (or writes itself) as a whole new jarring pattern of swamped levels of buzz. This is the sole piece which shows off Giffoni’s infamously minute manipulations (which are too broad to be subatomic) and his ease at shifting new sounds and new emphasis into a song’s mix. There are clear digital tones which beautifully spin and alter over and over depending on his focus as he tweaks volume and the mix spotlighting different parts. Its evil twin “Addiction #2” only manages to perform as a piece of straightforward fucked bleepery which has been chipped and sped up into something resembling cold pure digital vomit.
He manages to produce some warmth with the sharp two sided sliced heat whine of “Why,” which is then cuffed and smothered and again on the fierce distance of droning “No.” The song’s circular heated hum and ebbing warmer waves within gives a further glimpse of a Carlos Giffoni on the mark on this LP that should’ve been an EP.
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