With SIGN, Rochdale duo Autechre has de-invented itself. The album’s back-to-basics approach stands in contrast to the disruptive and demanding work Autechre have become known for. Their last studio release before this was the eight-hour NTS Sessions—a challenging listen even when leaving its length aside. This was followed by the simultaneous release of nineteen live albums which, to a casual listener, were largely indistinguishable. Autechre had become a stereotype which lives in the heads of electronic music’s detractors; impenetrable, cold, and faintly ludicrous.
For better or worse, SIGN is their most accessible work in a decade—perhaps ever. Long-term fans are likely to be divided. Those who saw 2001’s Confield (when it all went weird) as an artistic renaissance may think this a step back or a compromise. Those missing the warmth of Incunabula and Tri repetae may rejoice. Neither camp saw this album coming. A quasi-extension of NTS Sessions’ final couple of hours, SIGN reconfirms the duo’s strengths as soundscapers, as their focus moves away from glitch and back towards the inviting ambiences they cut their teeth in.
The compositional simplicity of SIGN has rustled the jimmies of a few Autechre fans. Perhaps mourning the band’s status as a pleb-filter, SIGN isn’t getting their usual rapturous reception. But in eulogising Autechre’s formal craziness, these fans are chewing everything but the meat of SIGN. Some of this music is the most no-strings beautiful of Autechre’s career—closing track ‘r cazt’ is among the greatest ambient tracks I’ve ever heard. Like thrash or prog listeners, emphasising formalism above all else, fans have been taught by twenty impenetrable years of Autechre’s music to close their hearts.
It’s a great shame—given the time of day, SIGN reveals itself as another essential work in a beguiling and near-unrivalled discography.
SIGN is available for purchase and streaming here.
Words: Andrew O’Keefe