Il N'y a Pas de Sud...

Il N'y A Pas De Sud... is the first release from Montrealer Ghislain Poirier. And it's remarkably louder than most of the records released on Taylor Deupree's almost silent but brilliant 12K label. Truth be told, it's not that loud at all, but unlike many on 12k, it is most definitely audible to the human ear. Poirier creates his stark, minimal techno using only slow, building tempos and bulking up the minute tones with lush reverb. The very insular nature of the music strikes immediate comparison to German dub-tech producers Thomas Brinkmann and Pole. To assemble the record, Poirer put to use his a rather aging PC, making the meticulous process of binding the microsonic blips and squiggles that much more painstaking. Be assured that an enormous amount of effort went into putting together Il N'y A Pas De Sud and it certainly pays off. The old computer and software behold an inexplicable machine soul that is so absent on many new techno releases. Chopped synth samples layered on top of crackling wires and muffled percussive skitters make tracks like "Desequilibre" hypnotically intriguing. "Un Pont Entre Deux Rivieres" stands out as one of the disc's most reflective tracks, allowing quieted guitars to puncture the surface while a tribal beat pulses gently beneath. And the pops and clicks of "Oui-Dire" place Poirier quite close to fellow Montreal sound sculptor David Kristian. Il N'y A Pas De Sud... is an impressive experiment in restraint that is both stylish and emotive. Sure the record is overly cerebral, but it's a beautiful reconfiguration of the noises that digital sound processors refuse to deal with. Rejected machines find warm and caring homes in the minds of producers like Poirier. This is textured, animalistic technology rendered into incredible music — a brilliant debut.