Flying Lotus
Cosmogramma

A good collage is a bit like good, healthy sarcasm. You need to weigh the elements well, find the right conditions to hit the mark. It requires a good dose of good taste and dialectical skills. Undeniable. Some might say that both too easily exploit the work of others. On the contrary, they highlight qualities by building, perhaps in a sacrilegious way, bridges for different perspectives. Some might say that they express a lack of respect. Wrong. They tend to point out where you had your feet just before, rather than build a view focused solely on "your" path.

A good collage, just like a good witty remark, reminds you that everything you express will always be exposed to the judgment and work of others. Steve Ellison (aka Flying Lotus) certainly doesn't lack the ability to draw from the most diverse sources to place the listener in a privileged vantage point, to say the least. The heights he elevates us to almost allow us to glimpse where this immense river comes from that, for the sake of simplicity, we call "electronics." From there, one can glimpse the black soul that gives heartbeat and breath to all the emissaries that will follow. In this 2010 work, Ellison expresses to the fullest all the potential magnificently hinted at in his first two works (and related EPs). "Cosmogramma" is the enactment, act after act, of the sublime ability of the American producer to navigate seemingly incompatible samples. An ability that is disconcerting. Yet the game works: there is an imperceptible underlying alchemy that makes everything meaningful. Someone who knows how to weigh the available elements, in short. Just think of the structure of the album itself.

Tracks that sometimes don't even reach two minutes in length are juxtaposed and piled up to create a 17-episode tracklist. All this might suggest a fragmented album, with pieces that don't completely resolve, leaving almost a starting sketch. But Ellison knows better. He manages to create a Titan, forges a Leviathan composed of small indissoluble parts. The half-hour or more listening time needed glides by in a heterogeneous yet compact, piercing but, at the same time, fluid and enveloping flow. There almost seems to be no interruption between the pieces. Altogether, the sensation is of having witnessed something elegant, soft, almost sent in slow motion. Some episodes undoubtedly stand out over others, but taken individually, they would lose their meaning.

It is a work that must be listened to from beginning to end, all in one go. The internal balance of the album is Ellison's hallmark. He had already proven it. He knows how to shape the sounds and filters he works with to his liking. Try recognizing a transfigured Thom Yorke in "And the World laughs with you". That vocal loop is so well merged with the cascades of synths that it hardly draws particular attention. It plays in favor of the whole. The same argument goes for the collaboration with Laura Darlington in "Table Tennis". One could cite the entire album to do justice to Flying Lotus' compositional work. How can one overlook the strings and winds duet in "Satelllliiiiitee"? or the cadenced and soulful rhythms of "Mmmhmm"? or the warm and sublime piano phrase that rests on downtempo foundations in "German Haircut"? The amount of influences in this album is, simply, disarming. One loses the proportions. It happens that you can no longer determine or distinguish. Jazz transforms into soul, and soul passes, in a few bars, the baton to old-school hip-hop. This is what a good use of collage can express. It's no wonder that Warp is keen to keep this Los Angeles producer tightly in its arsenal.

While waiting for the imminent release of "Until the Quiet comes," it's nice to revisit one of the finest delicacies of 2010.