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SKUG MAGAZINE	Jul 01 2008
hier drängen sich vergleiche in richtung pansonic & alain vega auf: zwei generationen treffen aufeinander. das von pavlov initiierte projekt geht für mich als eine hommage an ms tutti durch, ihre mittels effekten und loops verfremdeten improvisationen mit stimme und kornett stehen definitiv im vordergrund. dagegen hält sich COH mit elektronischen klangteppichen, die von cosey´s stimmaufnahmen gesamplet wurden, dezent im hintergrund. er ist sozusagen der katalysator in cosey´s innerem bewusstsein. cosey flüstert, stöhnt, schreit, singt: kommt mir vor wie ihre vö „time to tell“ (2000) minus deren spirituellem impetus. die platte entstand u.a. durch einen regen e-mail-kontakt, herausgekommen ist dabei eine durchaus intime, wie aus tagebucheintragungen herüberwehende athmosphäre zwischen cosey und pavlov, deren musik schon auch mal - besonders durch die endlos schlingernden kornett-sounds - an eine dub-version von „heathen earth“ denken lässt. tracktitel wie „near you“, „inside“ oder „fuck it“ erzählen von kommunikation und sex, von verlangen und deren (nicht-) einlösen. eine träumerisch-schwärmerische platte, und ja, romantisch

Jul 01 2008

hier drängen sich vergleiche in richtung pansonic & alain vega auf: zwei generationen treffen aufeinander. das von pavlov initiierte projekt geht für mich als eine hommage an ms tutti durch, ihre mittels effekten und loops verfremdeten improvisationen mit stimme und kornett stehen definitiv im vordergrund. dagegen hält sich COH mit elektronischen klangteppichen, die von cosey´s stimmaufnahmen gesamplet wurden, dezent im hintergrund. er ist sozusagen der katalysator in cosey´s innerem bewusstsein. cosey flüstert, stöhnt, schreit, singt: kommt mir vor wie ihre vö „time to tell“ (2000) minus deren spirituellem impetus.
die platte entstand u.a. durch einen regen e-mail-kontakt, herausgekommen ist dabei eine durchaus intime, wie aus tagebucheintragungen herüberwehende athmosphäre zwischen cosey und pavlov, deren musik schon auch mal - besonders durch die endlos schlingernden kornett-sounds - an eine dub-version von „heathen earth“ denken lässt.
tracktitel wie „near you“, „inside“ oder „fuck it“ erzählen von kommunikation und sex, von verlangen und deren (nicht-) einlösen. eine träumerisch-schwärmerische platte, und ja, romantisch

THE WIRE MAGAZINE	Jun 01 2008
"Every emission of the voice is by its very nature ventriloquism," claims psychoanalytic theorist Mladen Dolar in his book The Voice And Nothing More, arguing "the voice cannot be pinned to a body without a paradox". This collaboration is an act of ventriloquism of sorts, in which COH aka Ivan Pavlov plays Cosey Fanni Tutti in multiple senses. He plays her as if he were an actor in a role, and also as if she were a musical instrument, the Raster-Noton equivalent of a human beatbox: a human glitch box, a generator of rhythmic tics and pulses. The Voice And Nothing More could have been an alternative title for the album, all of the raw material for which came from "sounds that passed through Cosey's mouth", if it weren't for the fact that those sounds include Fanni Tutti's woozy cornet playing as well as chuckles, yelps, screams, singing and whispers. The project was conceived in part as an exploration of the way in which male identity has depended on a female other. But rather than resisting this expropriation, Cosey embraced it, enjoying, she says in the album's notes, the way Pavlov's "meticulous dissections and reconstructions" displaced her from "the familiar viewpoint of her essential self", even as she found this alienation, this externalisation of her "hidden voice", uncomfortable. Timestretched down into a sibilant slither on "Sin-King" and "Inside", her voice becomes eerie and erotic. Multitracked and sequenced on "Closer", it sounds like an emaciated Art Of Noise. On "Fuck It", it screams and shouts Whitehouselike sexually inflected invective. On "Crazy", Pavlov chops up a comparatively banal phrase until it yields a disturbing charge. "Mad" is an unexpectedly catchy dadaist lullaby, a hit single from an alternative universe, its nonsense lyric oddly reminiscent of Syd Barrett. The oneiric la-Ia-Ias of "Lying" are both creepy and beguiling, like something that might have been on the Rosemary's Baby soundtrack. The album is poised at the point where the homely slips into the unhomely, the cosy becomes the uneasy: where Cosey becomes an UnCosey. The phrase "I am not" features repeatedly in "Mad" and "Sin-King". This paradoxical utterance is a condensation of the crucial insights of psychoanalysis into a soundbite. What psychoanalysis discovered, after all, was a form of agency that consisted in gaps, the occult contours of which were principally revealed through the voice, through the tongue and its slips. COH plays Cosey as a psychonanalyst hears a patient, constructing a strange, second self from her ramblings, her doodles and her dreams.

THE WIRE MAGAZINE

Jun 01 2008

"Every emission of the voice is by its very nature ventriloquism," claims psychoanalytic theorist Mladen Dolar in his book The Voice And Nothing More, arguing "the voice cannot be pinned to a body without a paradox". This collaboration is an act of ventriloquism of sorts, in which COH aka Ivan Pavlov plays Cosey Fanni Tutti in multiple senses. He plays her as if he were an actor in a role, and also as if she were a musical instrument, the Raster-Noton equivalent of a human beatbox: a human glitch box, a generator of rhythmic tics and pulses. The Voice And Nothing More could have been an alternative title for the album, all of the raw material for which came from "sounds that passed through Cosey's mouth", if it weren't for the fact that those sounds include Fanni Tutti's woozy cornet playing as well as chuckles, yelps, screams, singing and whispers.
The project was conceived in part as an exploration of the way in which male identity has depended on a female other. But rather than resisting this expropriation, Cosey embraced it, enjoying, she says in the album's notes, the way Pavlov's "meticulous dissections and reconstructions" displaced her from "the familiar viewpoint of her essential self", even as she found this alienation, this externalisation of her "hidden voice", uncomfortable. Timestretched down into a sibilant slither on "Sin-King" and "Inside", her voice becomes eerie and erotic. Multitracked and sequenced on "Closer", it sounds like an emaciated Art Of Noise. On "Fuck It", it screams and shouts Whitehouselike sexually inflected invective. On "Crazy", Pavlov chops up a comparatively banal phrase until it yields a disturbing charge. "Mad" is an unexpectedly catchy dadaist lullaby, a hit single from an alternative universe, its nonsense lyric oddly reminiscent of Syd Barrett. The oneiric la-Ia-Ias of "Lying" are both creepy and beguiling, like something that might have been on the Rosemary's Baby soundtrack.
The album is poised at the point where the homely slips into the unhomely, the cosy becomes the uneasy: where Cosey becomes an UnCosey. The phrase "I am not" features repeatedly in "Mad" and "Sin-King". This paradoxical utterance is a condensation of the crucial insights of psychoanalysis into a soundbite. What psychoanalysis discovered, after all, was a form of agency that consisted in gaps, the occult contours of which were principally revealed through the voice, through the tongue and its slips. COH plays Cosey as a psychonanalyst hears a patient, constructing a strange, second self from her ramblings, her doodles and her dreams.