The Field
From Here We Go Sublime

Let's have a party! Finger food, scented candles, agreeable company, and the electronics of The Field in the background. His is an ambient techno that does not annoy, pleasant in its sounds and intriguing in its rhythm, with just enough vocal sampling. This is how the debut album (March 2007) by The Field, the alias of Swedish musician Axel Willner, presents itself: "From Here We Go Sublime," a title that's quite indicative, as we shall see.

Ten tracks, 66 minutes of music halfway between minimal techno and microhouse. With one characteristic: the almost constant repetition of the (micro)structures that form the basis of each piece. Until the conclusion of the piece itself, which means that the goal these tracks aim for, with an average duration between 5 and 7 minutes, is to generate in the listener a suspensive and enchanting state: a trance, if you like.

A technique of slow repetition that is very different from that used, for example, in American minimalism, more convulsive and labyrinthine. Comparable rather, by drawing a parallel with dance, to the ceremonies of the whirling dervishes, the Turkish dancers who spin for hours in search of ecstasy. Or the sublime, in the case of The Field, that condition which is sub limen, below the threshold of consciousness.

Our Axel succeeds in "A Paw In My Face", where he samples a fragment of something entirely unrelated to all of this, that is, a Lionel Richie song, repeating three guitar notes ad libitum to reveal the entire riff only at the end. Or in "The Little Heart Beats So Fast", where a bubbling synth bass recalls certain disco atmospheres of the '70s and is combined with a sample of a frigid female voice repetitively droning her refrain "aah aah aah". And so elsewhere in the album.

Thus, "From Here We Go Sublime" could be mistaken for a pleasant, dance-oriented collection: enveloping in its atmospheres and engaging in its driving tempos and marked rhythm. But just a slightly attentive listen reveals that there is much more beneath the surface. Given this situation, we must set this work aside during gatherings with friends to reserve a special place for it on occasions of private listening, made of concentration and introspection.

Decided then: we change the music. But we still party, okay?