GIANT ROBOT Few things are as inspiring as watching an artist that grows from good and promising to even better, fulfills all expectations and then surpasses them with ease. Giant Robot's journey from the DIY-dub of its cardboard-clad debut to the new Superweekend album is a good example of this. This rhythmic collective, whose foggy weirdness of years gone by was already delightful, has grown in every facet: the Giant Robot of today knows more, sees deeper and dares much. The debut, Crushing You With Style, with its cheekiness and stylistic sprawl was a very good album, but Superweekend plays in a totally different league. This product of obvious devotion and hard work is a milestone in the history of modern Finnish music. Assigning a genre to Giant Robot's music is not a pleasant task, I have been told more than once. I beg to differ. The group we hear on Superweekend is capable of thinking with great originality and complexity, but to me the group still clearly sounds like a part of the victory march of Afro-American music, a part of its international success story. The sound that travels in the guise of funk, reggae and other mutations still relies on the bedrock of rhythm. This bedrock is in excellent shape on Giant Robot's newest offering. The group's style, which blends electro-thinking with traditional instrumentation, pulses with slow tempos and an austere attitude. Timbaland, one of foremost modern gurus of hip hop and r&b, clearly left his mark on the band as this cavalcade of syncopation and ascetic beats was put together. The opener, Eyes On The Price, and the pristinely jerky Airport City are excellent examples of a complete internalization of the tenets of modern funk. Dancehall Dominator and Heartbreakdance, the records two stabs at writing hits, form the only deviations from slowness and deepness in the bpm department. The production on Superweekend is a joy to the ear. The group deserves special kudos for the layered nature of the record. This feature only becomes apparent on repeated listenings. Musical patience is a rare virtue in these times of short attention spans and even shorter joy. The record's 11-minuuttinen title track is an excellent demonstration of how to handle a longer dramatic arc. The path of rhythmic severity chosen by Giant Robot doesn't mean that nothing happens after the bass and drums have stepped out. All sorts of interesting little details bubble to the surface and rest atop the gorgeously creeping and deeply pulsating rhythmic basement. This group uses a lot of synthetic sounds, but also contains much organic know-how. Two guitars give heavy commentary in the spirit of minimalism, while the combined power of drums, electric piano and percussion provide some sweat to offset the digital soundscape. In the middle of all these electric pulsations we find a profound melancholy, albeit in a very fresh form. The record is opened and closed by strings, which provide a sort of gloomy majesty to the proceedings, despite being used purely as a spice. The black rhythm dripping from Giant Robot's super weekend makes the job of vocalist Tuomas Toivonen extra difficult. He is faced with the same racial problem confronted by every white blues-singer and Caucasian MC. How to express yourself in a musical context that traces its stylistic and content roots to a faraway, differently pigmented and just plain different reality? To imitate or not to imitate? Giant Robot's pale faced speaker solves the dilemma with flying colors. The stylistically recognizable speech song is linguistically strong and its presentation is natural. Toivonen's lyrics give the music an intellectual, European sheen that gives a final touch to Giant Robot's modern identity and gives it a very beleivable look. PEKKA LAINE (5/5 stars) Original
Finnish language review translated by Arttu Tolonen |