| This review is not off to a good start. Approaching this record with a degree of hesitation, I begin by reading the track names, I judge Pedro (James Rutledge) on a personal level; my initial issue is with the existence of his "Intro" and "Outro" tracks, which – seeing as they are of similar length and substance to many other tracks on the record – could very well merit their own titles rather than labels relating to function. Nonetheless, I am compelled by my sense of duty, and any initial dislike of Pedro’s pretentious track-naming – or fear that the quality of the album’s contents is accurately conveyed by the rather shoddy artwork – will not stop me from giving the record its due respect…. or at least skipping until I find a nice track. I'm far too judgmental. The "Intro" begins as the heavy drum samples that permeate the album make their first appearance (along with a welcome appearance by the much-maligned cowbell). "Intro" builds, and leads seamlessly into "I Am Keeping Up," perhaps the album’s most impressive track. Delightfully irregular, the beats combine with sampled brass and a frantic synth progression to intensify the anxiety with which Pedro’s album is so loaded. This "Intro" track is not merely a method by which we are introduced to the record, as the liner notes supply us with a glimpse of Pedro’s surprisingly introspective element, that being You, Me & Everyone’s thematic dedication: “I dreamt it.” We are being invited to experience Pedro’s dream, and the objective soullessness that my prejudiced heart has attributed to electronic music so often in the past is replaced with true honesty on the artist’s behalf. Indeed, at its best, You, Me & Everyone is a delightfully obtuse, dream-like soundscape that evokes despair and anxiety. Perhaps a track-by-track analysis of the record itself belies the artist’s true intention. But, You, Me & Everyone is so packed with incongruities, so full of elliptical references to musical styles ranging from Jazz to Riyuchi Sakamoto-esque neo-Classical (the superb "Lung" embraces both of these through a blend of brass and woodwind samples) that it could easily have been just one track and to skip anything here denies it of its full effect. The incongruities, such as the brass parts which reappear throughout the album, gradually begin to make sense, and despite seeming too hectic for the halcyon woodwind and string samples, the rhythms offer the record’s most cohesive element. You, Me & Everyone is as much a mood piece as a musical venture, and as much a therapy session for its creator as it is an engaging conglomerate of styles and sounds. As "Red Apples" disintegrates towards its conclusion – the trumpet disappearing, leaving us with barely-audible synth ‘beeping’ – musical styles are manipulated and deconstructed. Pedro’s vision, his desire to create a soundscape as absurd and all-encompassing as the most engrossing and disturbing dream, is never as starkly recognisable as the changes in dynamic throughout "Red Apples" and its sibling track, "Green Apples." Surprisingly, Pedro’s record also occasionally suffers from bouts of predictability, mainly caused by the rhythm section; while "Hope is a Happiness" overcomes the typical hip-hop rhythmic feel, the sampling of a lone violin effectively saving it, "Vitamins" is driven overwhelmingly, and to its detriment, by the heavy beats. As I may have begun to fear that the album has little more to offer, Pedro shows that minimalism is not beyond him: the glockenspiel/piano introduction to "You, Me & Everyone" is as beautiful and hypnotic as anything on the record. For every flaw, Pedro creates a balancing quality as heavy beats offset beautiful strings (as in "Vitamins") and repetition is balanced by ingenuity (as is the case when the irritating "Hallelujah" leads into the concise and ethereal "There Will Always Be More"). The mood of the album is consistent, the execution only sometimes askew. Although explicitly a soundtrack to sleep, You, Me & Everyone is not suited to relaxation; the hectic rhythms are the anxious heartbeat behind every track, the wailing horns the screams and sighs of despair. While there have always been artists whose records are predominantly depressing, even the most darkened of hearts had their moments of brightness: Nick Drake had Bryter Layter, and even Elliott Smith attempted to look on the bright side in Figure 8’s In the Lost and Found. Pedro, on the other hand, has produced a record which is admirably consistent in its mood, yet is so uncompromising that it reaches the point of frustration. Despite its flaws, Pedro’s record has made an impact on this musical Luddite, as it has left me questioning my prejudices. Do I see the merits of electronic music? Of course I do. Will I still approach an album described as ‘electronica’ with some degree of hesitation? Yes, I most probably will. - Wireless Bollinger |
