A critical success a couple of years ago, The Field’s debut album ‘From Here We Go Sublime’ switched entirely new audiences onto the potential of ambient techno, to the music’s ability to transport a listener to some fresh state of escapist revelry. Its mix of beat minimalism and expressive textures enraptured people who’d never previously been smitten by the genre, and blogs across the web exploded with superlative-laden critical accounts of the record’s significant impression. It was, in short, A Hit.
‘…Sublime’ was not an entirely original piece of work, however, with many a sample snatched from the catalogues of artists as popular as Fleetwood Mac and Kate Bush; inevitably, it was this aspect of the album that newcomers easily latched on to, and while The Field’s reputation was established, the abilities of the man at the heart of the project – one Axel Willner of Stockholm – could not be fully assessed. After all, while his assembling of myriad constituent pieces was faultless in terms of provoking a very pleasant rush of euphoria, dissection revealed a noticeable lack of truly identifiable talent. Having an ear is one thing, the nous for accomplished execution quite another.
‘Yesterday And Today’ doesn’t clear matters up particularly well – while Willner’s second long-player as The Field presents to the fore more of the man’s own material, it still hangs itself on some fairly prominent hooks, even offering a comparatively straight-faced cover of The Korgis’ ‘Everyone’s Got To Learn Sometime’, albeit fleshed into a swirling mass by an appropriation of the chiming atmospherics of 10CC’s ‘I’m Not In Love’. Inevitably, it’s this track that many will find swimming around their head after a single play through; but there are greater highs to discover on this six-track LP, and not every one comes courtesy of a cunning sample.
The title track, where beats pulse with an organic rhythm comparable to the panting of a night-end hedonist, sees Willner welcome another individual into the fold, namely Battles’ John Stanier, whose muscular percussion lends an electrifying energy to the piece. As the track builds around you, finally splitting its towering column structure just before the three-minute mark and sending splinter-beats out in a Spirograph pattern of developing detail, it consumes every fragment of one’s attention, blacking out the world around it. This is geometry for the dancefloor, particles shifting dimensions and mass as physics collides with the psyche of the wholly absorbed, each bead of sweat following a path determined solely by the surrounding sound. It’s an enveloping cacophony of gorgeous audio architecture which demands to be experienced loud.
But while the album’s title track is a dizzying delight of electronic sculpture and brute force drumming, elsewhere ‘Yesterday And Today’ feels flat and shapeless. Opener ‘I Have The Moon, You Have The Internet’ delivers only fleeting thrills, as its form remains constant for a full eight minutes, never truly peaking nor developing on a tonal level beyond the merest suggestion of a richness about to emerge (which never actually does). ‘Leave It’ is far more direct – its chimes countered by rippling bass and echo-soaked mid-level sweeps and drones – but compared to, say, similar fare forthcoming from Nathan Fake and Moderat, it’s without detail enough to stand out from a crowd swarming with cerebral producers crafting heady material for club doyens now used to more. It does enough – but enough doesn’t really make the cut, all peers considered.
On a decent system, or through headphones that can pack a serious punch, one can find favourable aspects enough in ‘Yesterday And Today’ to warrant not only repeat plays over a short period, but also later revival; and, after the acclaim directed at its predecessor, it’s impossible to conceive that this record won’t feature in a handful of year-end ‘best of’ lists. However, it’s not a substantial step onwards from what’s already passed, never quite representing the sort of evolution that keeps more discerning critics interested in an artist’s output.
Willner will again lap up plaudits by the pound, but inside he must surely feel that ‘Yesterday And Today’ is a safe, box-ticking album that’s only half the record it could well have been with a little more adventure and ambition translated into achievement. A missed opportunity, perhaps.
6/10
