Over a decade ago, tablecore artist Miguel Depedro aka Kid606 declared (via a title of one of his tracks), “Matmos Are the A-Team of Electronica”. Most likely his declaration refers to the duo’s ability to make plans and, in the vein of the referenced collective, make them “come together”, as it were. It is prudent to mention that puzzle solving, not luck, was the basis of the A-Team’s resolution: the ability to precariously lay out hypothetical pieces like the Mouse Trap board game then, bam, out come favorable results for any Colonel Hannibal-hatched unorthodox scheme.

Equal parts Karlheinz Stockhausen and Barnum & Bailey, Martin Schmidt and Drew Daniel aka Matmos make singular, concept-based albums that are painstakingly forged with an intricate, cleverly manipulated sound palette and bound by extra-musical themes (i.e. the animation of specific found objects on Quasi-Objects, surgical sounds on A Chance to Cut Is a Chance to Cure, dedications to their cultural heroes on The Rose Has Teeth in the Mouth of a Beast, “let’s make a synth record, no microphones allowed” on Supreme Balloon – they even attempted to record the sound of blossoming pussy willows while working on Björk’s Vespertine).

However, despite mutual admiration, occasional meetings and numerous recordings, with this collaboration with So Percussion, an academically trained quartet (Josh Quillen, Adam Sliwinski, Jason Treuting, Eric Beach) who realize the works of Paul Lansky, Iannis Xenakis, Steven Mackey etc., the “idea” didn’t gel until, according to Daniel, they met equidistant from their home bases (Matmos then in San Francisco, So in Brooklyn):

“The geographic theme emerged gradually as we sensed that the songs we were writing conjured up (we hoped) specific American landscapes. I think being in Montana was important because it was a neutral ground.”

And while the motif does not bonk you over the head as it does on their other albums, the tradition of Matmos is that the result, not necessarily the process, is the celebration.

Though internally much more elaborate, the works follow a formal order of “wander a bit, lock together in a groove, contrapuntally split all over the place while still locked together, explode, fade”. Treasure initially washes over you with pleasant chiming melodies and rhythmic textures built from guiro, shakers and bongos. The sound of goat “bahs” triggers a pause, a nasty sitar and all manner of squealing mayhem, then a return to the easygoing A section (now augmented with arpeggiating and subtle wah guitar). Likewise, Water begins with a repeating steel drum figure, punctuating bells and – you guessed it – water slaps. Midway the drum fades out and returns with a brass section, accordion, a steady pulse of splashes and an increasingly twitchy DSP’d trumpet; said horn returns on Cross, though now muted and shoved in a corner with a contrast of piano knell, Hendrix-like screams and a head-nodding, swaggering, elephant-slowly-stomping-down-the-village beat.

Again, these are merely concise, blanket descriptions of the laborious edits (it should be noted that plunderphonic turntablist Wobbly assisted with the mix) and each skittering sonic bit. From the tickly flurry of amplified cactus needles (Cactus) to the tornado of toy piano echoes (Swamp) to the transmogrified aluminum cans and vibraphones (Aluminum), the details would keep you reading for a week. And I prefer that you just listen.

American philosopher John Dewey once wrote, “For characters are presented in situations that evoke their natures, giving particularity of existence to the generality of potentiality.” In other words, when unique virtuoso producers / programmers and equally anomalous virtuoso performers bring their entire proverbial table to neutral ground, possibilities are limitless. In the words of another great man, “I pity the fool who goes out tryin’ a’ take over da world, then runs home cryin’ to his momma!” Recent photos of So and Matmos show all smirks and smiles…

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