Cortical Songs can be a bit difficult to unpack conceptually, as it consists of fifteen tracks, eleven of which are remixes. In fact, it’s not immediately apparent what the release is really about, and overall the album lacks even the most basic structural coherence.
As far as I can tell, John Matthias and Nick Ryan composed and performed the four movements that comprise the first portion of the record, a piece of string music called “Cortical Songs” that is easily the album's highlight. Made up of string ensemble and solo violin, performed by the Trinity College of Music String Ensemble with Matthias himself on solo violin, the most unusual aspect of the piece is that part of the orchestration is controlled by “a tiny computer brain,” as well as Ryan’s live interactive programming. If the record just ended here, I’d be satisfied, and my only complaint would be that these four “movements” only amount to about twelve minutes of music.
The duo took this potential shortcoming into account; instead of writing more music, they gathered their friends to contribute remixes, a format that is apparently becoming de rigueur for such crossover acts. Their friends also happen to be some of the most notable names in British rock and “nonclassical” music today (a genre tag which, though certainly awkward, is certainly a better label than “modern classical” or the laughably ambiguous “new music”). These collaborators include Thom Yorke of Radiohead, Simon Tong of Gorillaz and The Good The Bad & The Queen, Simon Jones and Nick McCabe of The Verve, John Maclean of The Beta Band, and Gabriel Prokofiev. (In case you’re wondering how some of these collaborators were snagged, Matthias likely has made some connections since he contributed violin to Radiohead’s 1995 album The Bends.)
This last figure may be the least well known, although he is perhaps most relevant to this project. Prokofiev (who is the grandson of the Russian composer, a towering figure in the world of twentieth century music best known to laymen for Peter and the Wolf) is the DJ who runs the Nonclassical club and label in London. The label has just released its fifth record; so far three of them have been solely dedicated to Prokofiev’s music, and he makes appearances on the other two. (Cortical Songs, incidentally, is the label's fourth release.) There's nothing wrong with this, as he is both talented and visionary, attempting to steer the direction of contemporary “classical crossover” music; the club and the label act as “nonclassical” manifestos of sorts.
Because Nonclassical is both a label and a club, it is not surprising to note that it is well connected to both new and established musicians. The internet hasn’t necessarily done away with genres, but it has created new listening publics who don’t so much collect music as archive it. This reality means that the audiences who we once relied on to define different genres of music increasingly lose their definition, and we see that the stylistic distinctions inherent in the music itself are much more amorphous than we once thought.
The heart of the record is the aforementioned string piece for which the album is named, though again, it is somewhat short. As conducted by Nic Pendlebury, the piece is beautiful without being sappy or sentimental, or even particularly uplifting. There are phrases throughout (especially in "Movement IV") that are very beautiful, though the entirety of the work hangs together in an odd way. There is a somber quality to the composition, but something about the pacing is deeply unsettling; I suspect this is a result of the “tiny computer brain.” This element allows the short musical segment to be useful material for remixes, but it also limits its emotional resonance. The tiny computer brain concept is very interesting, but just because Matthias and Ryan came up with it doesn’t mean that their execution of the concept is the best one possible. I look forward to future composers using the tool to greater effect.
Many of the remixes are great, and in fact there isn’t a single one that is less than good. My problem is the lack of cohesion throughout, the inability of the remixes to really speak to each other. Perhaps if one were to consider the source material entirely removed from the remixes this wouldn’t be a problem, but when taken all together, from the first blips of Thom Yorke’s remix, the mood is just too removed. Unfortunately it is the source material that ties the remixes together in the first place. Other interesting remixes appear by Marcus Coates, Marcas Lancaster, David Prior, and Dominic Murcott. Jem Finer of The Pogues contributes “Brain Bumper remix,” perhaps my favorite and one of the more successful iterations. This remix creates something unique and independent from the source material, using the parts from the original in a recognizable way while preserving its melodic power. It is also one of the longest remixes, allowing itself the time and space to develop an idea more fully. Each track, though, offers a unique take, expanding on the source material rather than just recycling it. Each artist locates different aspects of the originals, teasing out very different results.
We seem to be told that this record is a really important one, but I just don’t buy it. It is good, yes, and has moments of greatness, but overall I am not convinced that the piece is that significant in the grand scheme of things. Though the record contains moments of beauty and rewarding listening, neither am I convinced that the concept holds together or justifies its length. The tiny computer brain has a correspondingly tiny result. The opening quartet is solid, and the chance element of giving compositional agency in part to a computer brain is surely fascinating, but the piece is short and in the end it sounds like just another string orchestration. The remixes of course sound more contemporary, but they don’t all hang together in a coherent way. Nonetheless, if Nonclassical continues to release challenging records such as this, it will no doubt be a powerful influence in defining the future of music.
-Joseph Sannicandro