Allan Gilbert Balon - The Magnesia Suite (2024) [Hi-Res]

The debut full-length from Guadeloupe-born composer Allan Gilbert Balon, 'The Magnesia Suite' is an enigmatic, outsider mind-melter that juxtaposes faded jazz memories with dizzying collages and swimmy vocal experiments. Another winner from Recital, then.

An established visual artist and pianist, Balon cracks open his sonic universe on this one, clustering seemingly disparate ideas and elements into a cryptic, intimate narrative. Opener 'Stella Maris' wrongfoots us immediately; it's the album's most portentous piece - purposefully of course - drawing us into the album in a nervous, divine hum of pipe organ sounds and twisted chorals. It's hard to know whether this one's a direct comment on the ubiquitousness of church music, but it nonetheless sounds almost satirical, grounding the album in a subversive reality where anything can be a target. 'Lustras' is totally different, patched together from grotty tape recordings, chilling shortwave radio transmissions and Balon's slow-mo pianowork. But like its predecessor, there's a sense of the sacred coursing through its veins; as Balon plays muted notes, the saturated radio announcements and chorals begin to coalesce, forming a bizarre prayer. And without warning, the composition cuts to near silence as Balon plays glockenspiel to what sounds like an open field of crickets. The most beguiling section, though, comes when Balon matches his whirring radio captures with an orchestra of anachronistic landline bleeps that quiver into a static, suspended drone.

'Pleuro Delez Waltz' was the track that had Recital knocking on Balon's door in the first place, and it's another left turn. This time, Balon's idiosyncratic piano playing is more audible, and he accompanies the giddy, blunted notes with absurd, wailing voices and perplexing foley percussion. There aren't many obvious aesthetic comparisons for this one - it sounds as if we're seeing directly inside Balon's head as various wires cross and synapses fire randomly. Noisy but also remarkably sensual, it's emotional music that avoids any manipulative subterfuge. And it only makes more sense when we reach the heaving, muffled closer 'Ogadia', when Balon's piano playing starts to resemble gentle ragtime, and a sax wails incoherently in the distance. Beginning in the church and ending with jazz gives 'The Magnesia Suite' a curious context - it's the kind of record you can listen to umpteen times and continuously notice something surprising.

Tracklist:
1 Stella Maris
2 Lustras
3 Pleuro Delez Waltz
4 S.O.S Dolphin bay club
5 Ogadia