Tuesday, 10 April 2007

TWOCSINAK – ‘Art’s Equivalent to MFI with his Rolls Royce of Builders’ Skip’ EP (Clean Cut Records, 2005)

This review of Twocsinak's debut EP was originally written for Choke issue 13.5, otherwise known as the issue that we never got round to publishing, sometime in 2005. Incidentally, since this was written Twocsinak has released an equally fine album on Shitmat's Wrongmusic label. I wouldn't hold your breath for a review though.

The lengthy title is just the start. At forty-five minutes long, this is not only one of the longest EPs I have heard, it also possesses the most extensive self-penned sleevenotes you are ever likely to read. And that’s before we even get to the cartoons. Twocsinak is clearly a man with creative diahorrea. Luckily for us, his shit is a taste worth acquiring.

A handsomely arranged buffet of twenty-two sample ‘n’ paste morsels, ‘Art’s Equivalent’ is a bizarre mixture of wide-eyed musical experimentation and pop-cultural collage, bringing to mind a bootleg mix of ‘The Faust Tapes’ and St. Etienne’s ‘Foxbase Alpha’ with added indie-boy shambling. Taking in pretty much every contemporary style of music and a bewildering array of instruments, its unique style is the seemingly inevitable product of a truly scatterbrained imagination.

Poignantly delicate one minute and winningly silly the next, Twocsinak’s debut is a children’s playground of abrupt mood swings. Creepy music boxes segue into euphoric rave stabs. Chirpy human beatbox patterns give way to lo-fi self-examination. A telephone conversation about where to buy Hip Hop records sits close by a hilarious deconstruction of the UK style press. You also get bits of jazz, folk, jungle, some lovely piano melodies and some cracking home-recorded jams with collaborators too numerous to list here.

The last song contains the line: ‘I know it’s indulgent to write songs in first person but it seems I’m the only person I know’. While this may or may not be the case, a couple of listens to ‘Art’s Equivalent to MFI’ and you’ll know Twocsinak like a childhood friend. This is the weirdest, loveliest and most surprising object I’ve picked off the doormat so far this year. It’s also as DIY as hell and chummy as fuck. Rejoice.

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