Martin Rev - Les Nymphes

by Adrian Janes

published: 20 / 3 / 2023

Label: Bureau B
Format: CD

intro

Cocktail of electronica and dance from Suicide’s Martin Rev proves inventive in parts, but disappointing overall.

Martin Rev was for many years the musical partner of vocalist Alan Vega in Suicide. Their 1977 debut album presented electronic music as starkly confrontational as the band’s name, but the follow-up had a more sophisticated sonic sheen, courtesy of a production by The Cars’ Ric Ocasek. Despite its more danceable nature, it was still unlikely to see them warmly welcomed into Studio 54. But the fascination with repetition and pulsing rhythms, coupled with a slick sound, continued on ‘Les Nymphes’, a 2008 Rev solo effort now reissued. ‘Sophie Eagle’ opens with a snarling keyboard riff, chittering hi-hat and bursts of phasing, which proves to be one of the record’s favourite sonic tricks. Into the midst of this fall icy droplets of piano, like a disco Debussy. Elusive snatches of a male voice also emerge in the mix. Yet despite this busy combination of elements, it gradually becomes apparent that the piece is going in circles. My interest checked out around the four-minute mark, somewhat unfortunately as it lasts for seven. One of the better tracks is ‘Dragonfly’. The limpid guitar phrase that anchors it becomes enmeshed in various intersecting keyboard lines; although the piece is characteristically repetitious, the contrasts of texture make for something that’s quite mesmerising by the end. Perhaps that’s the hoped-for effect of the album generally, but sadly all too often you’re chiefly conscious of repetitive cycles, even though Rev does change things up with the prominence given to instruments on different tracks: a heavy metal guitar (‘Triton’), an almost honky-tonk piano (‘Daphne’), a marimba (‘To Vow’). ‘Cupid’ also ranks among the more satisfying efforts. It’s an almost classic House composition, with a bright disco-style theme and beat plus random guitar and piano notes for good measure. Similarly insistent reverbed drums on ‘Deep Temple’ underlie a strong, jabbed melody and grim bass, a combination that creates the feel of a mysterious approaching threat. It’s probably the more heavily rhythmic nature of these two tracks which makes it easier to disregard the minimal melodies. Finally, of the better tracks, there is ‘Narcisse’, where a prettily chiming and subtly varied theme contrasts with juddering bass. At some points even slight amounts of structure and musical development are largely abandoned. ‘Les Nymphes et La Mer’, far from the Romanticism implied by its title, instead foregrounds a heavily phased guitar riff recycled over and over, embellished by random keyboard and faint wah-wah almost at the level of the seabed. The track doesn’t really go anywhere and takes a long time to do so. Meanwhile the nebulous ‘Phaetone’ creates the same mixture of boredom and bafflement that Lou Reed needed four sides to achieve on ‘Metal Machine Music’. Regrettably, Rev solo tends to commit the besetting sin of Suicide, of doing an idea to death. Without the foil of Alan Vega’s voice, a thinness of musical invention is exposed. Yet this may be listening with too great intent. Perhaps this album is really meant for the dancefloor and festival field, bearing in mind an acknowledged influence of dance music upon it; maybe it works better at a House night, instead of at home.

Track Listing:-

1 Sophie Eagle
2 Narcisse
3 Triton
4 Venise
5 Valley Of The Butterfly
6 Les Nymphes Et La Mer
7 Dragonfly
8 Phaetone
9 Nyx
10 Daphne
11 Cupid
12 Deep Temple
13 To Vow