Bibio - The Apple and the Tooth

2009 has been a busy year for Bibio, also known as Stephen Wilkinson. He started it by releasing an album and an EP on Mush Records, and mid-way through the year moved to Warp to release 'Ambivalence Avenue'. This, his fourth full-length album, was something of a departure from most of his previous work; his distinctive vocals now featured on over half of the tracks, and there was much greater diversity in production styles, taking in elements of hip-hop and dancier electronica, as well as his usual ephemeral folk.

What to expect, then, of 'The Apple and the Tooth', his fourth release of 2009? It is, essentially, a four-track EP coupled with a selection of remixes from the previous album. The new material opens with the title track, a short piece of beat-driven folk with a number of interweaving flute melodies; this soon makes way for Rotten Rudd, a folk rock number which keeps you on your toes with mixed time signatures, and backs things up with more sonic texture than is first apparent. It ends somewhat abruptly, and 'Bones & Skulls' begins with vocals that initially seem to echo 'Abberiw', Wilkinson's first vocal track from 'Hand Cranked'. These are eventually replaced by a vocoder that recalls early electronic music with its naiveté and simplicity. After a short and pretty interlude of piano and guitar, 'Steal the Lamp' bursts in with a slightly brash melody and sporadic drums. The track's true agenda is revealed shortly after its half-way mark, with the appearance of the Amen break wrenching things into Drum & Bass territory. Bibio's usage of the ubiquitous loop makes it sound fuzzy and lo-fi, but the complexity of his programming keeps it interesting.

And that's it for new material; it's a brief but sweet tour through a small part of Bibio's musical landscape as it currently stands. Clark leads the remixes, with a broken and glitchy re-envisioning of 'S'Vive'. It gives the impression of being a dance track, but he layers on enough chopped-up vocals and distant, dischordant singing to make it a little too quirky for the dancefloor. Eventually things degenerate into white noise, and a short reprise leads the way for Wax Stag's remix of 'Sugarette'. As melodic as Clark's remix is noise-driven, Wax Stag layers delicate retro synths on top of each other with a practised flair; the sounds may be familiar to fans of his work, but they're no less relevant here. They complement the original track's mangled vocals well, even following their melody at several points.

Eskmo takes the stage next, with a slow and deliberate remix of Dwrcan which hinges around its central kicks; while there is little rhythmic variation, percussion comes in many forms, dipping in and out, and in spite of its 70bpm tempo, it never feels ponderous. Where the verses are characterised by sporadic percussive elements, the chorus is characterised by a delicate synth, and it's all held together with a grungy bassline. It's a very confident effort from the San Fransisco-based producer. Letherette follows with a remix of 'Lovers' Carvings' that is very much in the style of instrumental hip-hop. He makes a pleasing mess of the vocals, almost turning them into a form of instrumentation, and sets them over the top of a heavy beat and jazzy chords. The Gentleman Losers slow things down with a pretty and somehow typically Scandinavian reworking of Haikuesque. The instrumentation is largely understated, and sits perfectly with the vocals. The guitars, piano and steel guitar are complemented beautifully by a synth melody for the last third, and eventually the song just drifts off.

With his remix of 'All the Flowers', Lone initially appears to have done little with the original track besides add some slightly shambling drums and compress everything so that they side-chain rather jarringly with the guitar and vocals. As the original track was a mere minute long, longevity is gained by reversing the vocals, after which he drops the syncopation on the beat and concentrates on melody. It's only really at this point that the track makes sense, which is kind of a shame. Keaver & Brause's remix of 'Fire Ant' also disappoints; it opens with what should have been a bassline, had it not been filtered so much, and doesn't really fill the low registers with anything except kicks. The remaining synths are a little too sporadic and disparate to hold the track together, and it passes by without much further incident. It's up to Bibio himself to round the album off, then, with a remix of 'The Palm of Your Wave'. It's a beautiful retelling of the original, adding much to what was initially a rather brief journey into the melancholy of parting.

As the sum of its parts, then, the album is exceptional. The new material is accomplished and displays Bibio's willingness to improve himself while retaining his singular sound, and the remixes are, on the whole, expertly crafted and carefully selected to take in a range of styles that seems to mirror Bibio's own musical diversity. Undeniably, he has moved on since his first three albums, and it's hard not to be excited about where he's going.