Albert van Abbe
Broken Cymbals Too
Semantica
Earlier this year, Albert van Abbe officially celebrated 25 years of playing live, and looking at the massive resume the Dutch artist has assembled over the years, it’s perhaps easier to sum up his career by listing the things he hasn’t done. These days, much of his time is actually spent on scenography—he’s designed environments at festivals like Dekmantel and Draaimolen, along with a slew of other events—yet he still manages to drop the occasional new release. Broken Cymbals Too is his latest offering, and it’s the kind of record that makes you wish that those releases arrived a little more often.
Arriving on long-running Spanish techno outpost Semantica, the EP technically falls within the confines of that genre, but its low-lit contents are far more interested in moody introspection than mindlessly banging it out. Opening cut “Construction, Dissembling” bathes its lithe pulse in moody chords and layers of soft static, prompting visions of grey skies and walking home in a light drizzle. Calling Broken Cymbals Too depressing would be too extreme, but its muted color palette, not to mention its general lack of exuberance, do give the record something of a melancholy vibe.
If there’s a story behind the music, van Abbe isn’t sharing it—the only text accompanying the EP is a rather cryptic poem—but that doesn’t make a gently fizzing, piano-flecked song like “Sometimes, We Talk” any less poignant. “Keep Hostage, I Woke” is more of a straightforward techno number, albeit a stately one that’s been fleshed out with an elegant, almost orchestral loop and a healthy dollop of reverb. The LP’s lingering wistfulness does briefly evaporate amid the IDM-ish drum patterns of “Never Asked, but I Think,” but it quickly returns on the record’s title track, a beatless composition where lush textures and groaning tones rise and fall like waves lapping against the shore.
Considering how much time van Abbe has spent in the club over the course of his career, it makes sense that he’d now like to ease off the throttle a bit and explore some ideas that aren’t specifically predicated on urgent physicality. Broken Cymbals Too may be subdued, and even a bit gloomy, but it’s also quite beautiful, and that combination makes for a deeply alluring listen.