For pure guitar craft, there are few more interesting batches of character and experimentation than Remora. Haven’t heard of them? That’s not terribly surprising.
But it is quite a shame.
Remora has been one of Brian John Mitchell’s many masks since 1996, when the jolly costume party began (Mitchell is also an avid cartoonist and ’zine publisher, as well as experimental/electro-label scion). The albums he produces under the name Remora (something characterized as “guitar terrorism” yet also, soothing) are stark expressions of tone, bursts of guitar, and mechanized loops. The results are controlled mayhem. Previous albums have lavished an aesthetic that is poetically repetitive and minimalist (brilliantly done on the loop-driven Ambient Tones For One Guitar and Amerse), and while it may seem absurd, they focus almost thematically. Mitchell says with his guitar and studio prowess what so many others fail to do armed with pen, paper, and a vocal mike.
Forward to Remora’s newest effort, Derivative, eight tracks in all (relatively small number, considering Mitchell’s propensity for numerous fractured tracks) with song titles all descriptive of time (“All Our Times Have Come”), place (“Highway Run”), or emotions (“Death Planes” or “Love Corrupt”). The album is filled from beginning to end with resplendent song craft, like “Every Prince,” which shimmers and cascades, or “Misdirection,” which muddles in the proverbial mire. The tracks on Derivative are all pulled from Mitchell’s favorite tracks, such familiar bands as Journey and Blue Öyster Cult, Pere Ubu and Warrior Soul. The results are mysterious and familiar pulling the listener in so many directions it’s a perfectly tiring exercise. Like wandering a museum at night, appreciating by feel what during the day seems painfully overt and forgettable.
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