It would appear Shane Parish likes a challenge. First of all, how to follow Repertoire, an album that saw the guitarist cover everyone from John Cage and Alice Coltrane to Aphex Twin and Charles Mingus. And second, once a theme has been decided, how to create it? In this instance, Parish has decided to cover Autechre. On an acoustic guitar. And then give the album a very pragmatic title, which may or may not be a pun. The dude heard “Corc” and decided it would work as an acoustic piece, so I’m not going to challenge his choices.
You are probably familiar with Autechre’s reputation, and that might be enough to deter you from approaching their music. They are one of the pillars of Warp Records, a duo who seem unwilling to compromise their vision to the extent that every radio session and live performance is unique, and as important as the studio records. It’s not always easy to get into, sitting somewhere between hip hop and musique concrète. I saw them late last year, and standing there in the dark – a ghostly light from laptops providing the only illumination – was a genuinely transcendental experience. It would be impossible to translate this sound into anything else. It felt like the pinnacle of what is achievable musically.
However, their earlier albums were more melodic and accessible, and that’s where Parish selects his material. Four tracks off Incunabula and three off Amber form the bulk of this album – two records that Autechre aren’t wild about now, but certainly give hints of what is to follow. It’s the duo of Sean Booth and Rob Brown finding their voice and gradually shaking off any outside influences. Through a series of EPs, the pair arrived at Tri Repetae, the starting point of the Autechre we know today. But still accessible enough for Shane Parish to grab his sheet music and pencil and notate “Clipper” and “Eutow”.
The first impression of Autechre Guitar is how Parish carefully draws out the melody lines from each of the tracks he selects. He’s not just aiming for repeated lines, such as on “Eggshell”, which has two distinct melodies – like a verse and chorus if you want to break it down to the most basic parts. He’s also sensible when it comes to editing out anything extraneous – the opening “Maetl” is a concise two minutes, and immediately recognisable. There’s quite a bit of atmospheric development and repetition removed from the original, which can only help the guitar version – as on Repertoire, Parish is a master when it comes to cutting compositions down to their catchiest components.
There comes a point about midway through the first listen when we forget we’re listening to Autechre covers. Even allowing for familiarity with the source material, this becomes a record more akin to the American Primitivism of John Fahey. It’s on “Bike” or “Nine” that this clarity occurs – Autechre Guitar becomes more Guitar than Autechre. If you wish, you can still focus on the way Shane Parish has adapted the core material, such as the shifting rhythm on “Yulquen”, or you may prefer to just let the music, such as the pastoral feel of “Slip”, float past.
On paper, this must have seemed like an impossible undertaking, but Shane Parish has exceeded expectations. He’s been faithful to the originals but has drawn elements out of the Autechre productions, resulting in pieces that are recognisable but dazzlingly fresh. If Autechre seem icily remote or inaccessible, then Parish’s work is the very opposite: warm, rural and welcoming. (Jeremy Bye)
a closer listen 