Photo: Chris Hewitt
Think of how life must've been for 22-year-old electronic producer Chris Clark in 2001. Having signed to the same label as iconic artists like Squarepusher, Boards of Canada, Aphex Twin, LFO, and Autechre, he was effectively deemed the latest addition to Warp's long line of challenging musical innovators without a single prior release to his name. The opportunity seems both exciting and impossibly intimidating, let alone when you consider all other internal and external pressures any auspicious new talent faces.
So it's kind of remarkable how Clark has continually risen to the occasion during his 13-year career, often destroying all expectations with versatile musicianship and heavily detailed soundcraft. You can't ever guess how his tuneful, beat-centric productions will evolve from one album to the next, but his signature ambient touches and sinewy arrangements are somehow always recognizable. Now with Clark's self-titled seventh LP arriving on November 3, it seemed like an opportune time to dig through the UK-born producer's substantial back catalog in search of ten songs essential for both well-versed fans and the currently uninitiated.
"The Dogs"
When Chris Clark released his debut LP, Clarence Park, in 2001, he had to fight an uphill battle against being pigeonholed as an Aphex Twin imitator. Songs like "Lord of the Dance" would validate some of those comparisons, but "The Dogs" is another beast entirely, a turbulent, seasick descent through crackling beatwork. Clark's early album highlight set the pace for many sinister soundscapes he would envision in the coming years, and also marked him as a significant production talent equally thrilled by hip-hop, noise, and the erratic ethos of IDM.
"Early Moss"
Any apparent similarity to Richard D. James was lost by the time Empty the Bones of You arrived two years after Clark's debut, as his sophomore album dug deeper into stuttering and serrated hip-hop tendencies. "Early Moss" was certainly of that ilk, but gave its rhythmic boom a mystical edge with twinkling bell synths and deep layers of obfuscated ambiance. From an album that ultimately riffed on just a few interesting ideas, distinctive cuts like "Early Moss" stood out from the bunch, helping plant the seeds of what would grow into Clark's best music.
"Proper Mid-Fi"
"Proper Mid-Fi" is a great example of why Chris Clark's EPs shouldn't be overlooked: the guy tends to use these short, idea-packed records for releasing experimental one-offs which offer a window into his restless studio work. Throttle Clarence, though eventually re-released as part of the extended Clarence Park in 2012, was exclusive to Warp's online store six years prior, giving fans eight outtakes from sessions leading up to Body Riddle. And though the twitchy, blistering "Proper Mid-Fi" wouldn't have worked in that record's tracklist, its hyperactive arpeggiations and mangled drum programming make for a raved-up alternative that confidently stands alone.
"Dead Shark Eyes"
Another non-album cut, the drum-focused "Dead Shark Eyes" was one in a series of digital singles available exclusively from Clark's website around the release of Body Riddle. This shapeshifting production shuffles through a handful of the moods and modes woven into his third album's dense 42 minutes—touching on hip-hop slanted breaks, sidewinding basslines, radiant atmospheres, lost alien transmissions, and other brittle electronics in the course of five and a half minutes. Just trying to unpack the slew of handcrafted textures and FX crammed into "Dead Shark Eyes" is reason enough to put it on repeat.
"Roulette Thrift Run"
It's hard to say exactly what kind of music "Roulette Thrift Run" is, which is equally true of the record it occupies. Clark's crowning achievement to date, Body Riddle is an uncanny yet strangely organic amalgam rooted in jazz, hip-hop, IDM, ambient, musique concrète, techno, classical, and noise. "Roulette Thrift Run" isn't one of its transcendent moments of beauty, nor is it the most refined production in the tracklist, but it is the ceaselessly beating heart at the core of Clark's exquisite corpse.
"Matthew Unburdened"
Foreshadowing Body Riddle's nearly 8-minute finale, "Matthew Unburdened" allows its punishing smash of piano and beatwork to wash away in the rising tide of poignant strings, melodic cacophony, and atonal hums. Clark carves ample space for reflection into the track's quiet midsection, which could've easily been fleshed out as its own affective ambient drift. But "Matthew Unburdened" is stronger as a testament to how the producer can gracefully synthesize precision, tenacity, and emotional heft into coherent and moving music.
"For Wolves Crew"
In 2008, Turning Dragon manifested as the gritty, amphetamine-fueled underbelly to Body Riddle's biological curiosities, and it turned out to be just as limber and immersive despite sharp corners and a calloused exterior. That winning quality came packed into "For Wolves Crew", an exploratory banger of sorts closing out the album's first act. Shuddering techno grooves set a gnarled tone for Clark to build on with his arsenal of microsamples and pinprick textures, but the payoff doesn't come until he subverts the whole thing with a gorgeously dissonant arrangement of synth tones. Once again, Clark does his best work when operating on all cylinders.
"Penultimate Persian"
"Penultimate Persian" is in many ways a recap of Turning Dragon's strong suits: punishing dancefloor beats, frayed analog tapestries, serene harmonic overtones, a gaseous atmosphere, and Clark's experimental urges take turns in the spotlight. Without approaching sentimentality, the producer makes decidedly cold electronic music sound red-blooded and emotional, regardless of which fine-crafted element he has on display. Therein lies the essence of any Clark discography standout.
"Future Daniel"
Uncommonly cheerful for Chris Clark in 2009, "Future Daniel" is a glittering gem from the less-than-perfect Totems Flare. It succeeds because the song isn't the most ambitious of the bunch—opting to briskly climb familiar synth arpeggiations into the stratosphere, rather than toy with unflattering vocal experiments and fractured, slow-mo rhythms. It's a confident reassurance that, even amidst an awkward growth spurt, Clark never loses sight of his core values.
"Unfurla"
Clark's seventh album is a self-titled record said to be "more Berghain than Guggenheim," and the serpentine "Unfurla" effortlessly proves as much within its first bar. The track is perhaps the most danceable production we've ever heard from Chris Clark, but it does well not to skimp on his delicate touches and robust musicality. "Unfurla" is in many ways a refinement of Turning Dragon's dystopian rave fantasies—which Clark's latest single, "The Grit in the Pearl", continues to riff on—so it would seem that the artist has returned to the highlights of his past catalog in order to write its next chapter.