BP — Orléans by Jacob Calland

BP (Bret Parenteau to those who know him), has what seems to be the one of the most fervent work ethics of anyone in the DIY Tape scene with 15+ releases in the last few years. It feels a bit like you are right there with him watching his style evolve and develop with each new release, with very little left off the record, although I imagine a deep dive into his hard drive would uncover 1000’s of hours of unheard material.

Orléans has been recently released on the ever influential (and ever pink) Vienna press, the album undulates between raspy synth drones and crusty field recordings. It evokes a particularly cold and disturbing atmosphere (although only after being lulled into a false sense of security by the opening passage). There is something about it that conjures up images of a tiny town, snow driven, where something slightly untoward is going on.

The tracks while droning, are kept interesting by varying intensity, the scratchings of the most micro field recording, suddenly fading into nothingness only to be over taken by a wall of distorted sine waves, to then be shown a glimpse of beautiful 1950’s saloon piano. A release that succeeds where many fail due to modest track lengths and knowing when to dial it back. A very nuanced EP.

One to listen to by yourself on a cold night.