Cosey Fanni Tutti | Tutti
Conspiracy International (LP/CD/DL)
“My life is my art, my art is my life”
In her solo follow-up to 1982’s Time to Tell is the latest from Cosey Fanni Tutti (Throbbing Gristle, COUM Transmissions, Chris & Cosey, etc.), Tutti. Eight tracks, grounded at first on the title track by a signature distant horn, but her exploratory electronic sound is ultra-texturized for a completely new audience as heard on Drone and throughout. The track uses chunky funky synth structures that remind me some of the work of Olaf Bender, though hers comes off slightly more organic.
A grinder emits ghostly voices and then a rubberized tribal beat on Moe. This seemingly very fresh new sound sort of has an evolution that dates from the 00’s collection of Ambient Remixes (1998-2004) which she put out under the moniker CTI with partner Chris Carter (all on Conspiracy International). These were some of the best ambient records of the era and here Tutti’s sound just as warm and warped.
GLOW + FLOW: Sophic Ripple which moves like a lavaflow right into Spilt, like the other tracks here, were originally conceived as a soundtrack to the autobiographical film Harmonic Coumaction (20 min., 2017). The coaster-like drone moves up, down and through pockets of pulsing reverb that almost sounds like cartoony evil laughter, but it’s a dark tunnel of variegated grey areas that we are zooming through. The atmosphere is trance-inducing with a balance of distortion and roving effects.
There are minimal shifts in rhythm emphasis between tracks making this a perfect long-player. Tutti’s voice, like shimmering shadows caught between scrims and phasing transmissions flutters through the sensuous and restrained Heliy, in a quasi chant-style.Layered tones flex and pulse, shifting softly from left to right channel and back again, in a subliminal manner, like a fine mist dissipating in space.
That queasy horn returns with the cosmic delusion of En, an aquatic drone fused with layers of psychedelics. She takes liberal opportunity to snag a snapshot of the past with inflections from the classic Technø Primitiv (Chris & Cosey, 1985) but manages to hull something timeless from the salvaged remains. As the closer, Orenda, emerges a hesitant beat situates the ear between the city and the sea with its streaky lines and clangor. This most certainly sounds to be a slice from an audio self portrait, one content in its form, understanding its venerable nature, perhaps for the very first time. There’s a streetwise ease to the luxe patina in this work.