The cryptic press release for Iklectik details Philip Jeck having been “creating sound with record-players since the early 80’s”, yet fails to explain the instrumentation or sourcing that would give you even half an indication of what a 45-minute, single-track live performance, recorded live at and named after the Iklectik art space in London, would actually sound like.
So, what it sounds like initially is a steady, soft, mellow drone affair with willowy pad sounds ebbing slowly, and gentle plucked synthetic notes dancing modestly over the top. At it progresses, slightly more metallic and at times more animalistic and vocal tones arrive to add a sinister shade, but it never veers towards any true discordance. Seemingly random pizzicato string notes later give it a sense of both progression and pace which evolves into a subtly more symphonic arrangement in the middle. The final third of the piece becomes hollower, returning to drone but with a greater emphasis on bass sound which at times sound faintly dubby before flattening into another drone element. A spoken word eulogy in the final three minutes is an odd addition, coming after a soporific section as though intended to speak into your dreams.
Occasional audience coughs are the only recognition of it as a live performance and the involvement (or otherwise) of record players is left undetectable, there’s nothing sonically that would determine that this wasn’t a laptop performance or a studio creation.
It’s an intriguing and very carefully evolving work which takes you in some interesting, if not especially challenging, directions. Very smart.