Adorable kitty-cats meow aplenty on Sweet Mellow Cat, chatting in anticipation and eyes fixated on the slab of meat you just bought, looking up at you with those innocent…uh…puppy-dog eyes. You just can’t resist those eyes, and soon the two of you are sharing the meal as if it was a surreal romantic dinner gone Pete Tong. Sweet Mellow Cat is irresistible music, and just as easy to fall in love with as those pleading, heart-melting eyes.
Sample-delic, the music of Brazilian sound artist Liz Christine bounds over the listener’s eardrums, climbing trees but never getting stuck at the tip of the branches. Curating clips and out-takes collected over the last couple of years, her music is like living a lively dream, where dashes of ambient atmospheres pass by and excursions in eclectic vibes are the order of the day. Returning throughout, her samples are like aural thoughts that have been sprinkled lightly onto the record. Nearly always reappearing, the insertion of dialogue scratches lightly and unobtrusively over the music, like a cat who’s always on the wrong side of the door. A love for film noir and the pulling of European dialogue enters through the cat-flap and gels everything together, and this eclectic sound never feels out-of-place, revealing the thought and care behind each and every sample and their use.
Jazz kisses and breezy, melodic piano lines are the first cut n’ pasted samples. A feathery-light saxophone caresses the skin in “Girl’s Band”, representing the beautiful, skin-supple female of the species. Oh yeah, and a cat is still affectionately meowing. This kind of jazz isn’t a Starbucks style, saccharine kind of jazz – it’s daubed with a slight melancholia, as if the cappuccino ordered has been sprinkled with a powdery slice of real life, instead of a tasty chocolate naivety. It’s the sound of rainy days spent indoors, with a purring, contented cat sleeping on your lap (probably full from your delicious food.) Fond memories of an animal much adored return to the mind with the words ‘And I loved him so’ – anyone who’s ever had a pet knows they’re a part of the family. Easy on the ears, Liz Christine keeps the samples sustained and spinning, without losing balance and running out onto the street; she always lands on her feet.
The atmosphere at heart is one of love, coming close at times to Australia’s The Avalanches in psychedelic sampling, an inviting atmosphere and a true affection for the style; the only difference is that Sweet Mellow Cat is actually right here, right now, which can’t, as yet, be said for the Australian’s long delayed second album. In fact, “C-Caterina” uses what surely must be the same sample as one of the many thousands that appear on the spectacularly awesome “Since I Left You” (2001). This really returns to the early millennium and long-lost days at the seashore. Shifting in the mix, an almost break-beat style rhythm cuts in like an expertly handled transition on a crossfader. Liz Christine isn’t afraid to slow everything down – this cat is a sweet, mellow cat after all. “Pour Cecile” is especially mellow in nature, an ambient journey through white, cirrus clouds.
“Green Eyes Girl” is another beautiful track, where reverb soaked, cute female vocals recite the words, ‘She’s beautiful. I cannot forget’. Inserted into intervals, this track falls head over heels in love. Awww. Eyes sparkle, a gorgeous deep blue inside loops of love. ‘Green eyes. Really soft skin. Really beautiful’. Liz Christine adds melodic phrases in a care-free, playful way. The sound of running water would make a cat run a million miles, but it’s inserted into the music. Lively sections filter through the mix, in what sounds like a tuneful Saturday morning cartoon intro playing in the background while the coffee brews and the ever-alluring smell of the cat-food arises.
“Rain” cleanses everything – as much as cats may hate getting wet. Thoughts fall like warm, innocent drops of rain. And the earlier samples are still around, like leftovers of cat-food – ‘you really think I’m going to eat that? Any more of that beef you were eating earlier?’
There aren’t any claws here – her music is a little, playful kitten enjoying a ball of woollen samples. “Holiday” reclines underneath the sun, alongside the swaying palm-trees by the beach, while kitty-cat tries to catch angel fish in the lucid, aquamarine ocean. Her music is a treasure – “Or Ten Pills At Three O’ Clock” stutters as if the samples were fragments of an ageing mind, but it’s also alive with the melodic juke-box of our youth, constantly circling and speeding up like an old carousel. White static and the gentle hissing history of black vinyl rise up and take on a Lilacs & Champagne feel, but not as shaded. The sharp, plucked strings on “Love Affair” appear stuck in the grooves, but it’s still fun to listen to.
Past vocals and dialogues never vanish – “You Gotta Be Blonde” – seeming to float in and out of the record’s atmosphere as they please; it’s sure to raise a smile, and the coda ends on the warmest of smiles. If you like sampling (and cats), you’ll love this. Liz Christine’s music is innovative, exciting, friendly and inviting – purrfect vibes, swaying a playful tail all day long. (James Catchpole)
a closer listen 