The new Acting Press record arrived just in time. Here in Berlin, where the label is based, we were enduring short days, subzero temperatures and the general gloom of late-stage lockdown. Then, just as Public Static V. landed in record shops here, it started snowing like crazy, ushering in a change of scenery that's all too rare these days. After barely leaving the house all week, I took a long-ish walk to pick up my copy. Back in my flat, snow melting in my hair, I listened to it a few times in a row, flipping it over again and again. Like the snow, it brought a welcome coziness to our cold, dark and isolated current moment.
A collaboration from Acting Press cofounders PLO Man and C3D-E (two thirds of the crew behind last year's excellent Aqueduct EP), Public Static V. is made entirely of sounds that feel weightless, all gaseous chords and airy percussion drifting in a vast, cool void. The listener alights on different vistas over its 43 minutes, each with new imagery and atmosphere, but all along the same dreamlike path (and, in fact, part the same live set, recorded at Linecheck festival in Milan near the end of 2019). Overflowing with fluid grooves and mostly free of full-on beats (save the gentle hip-hop number 15 minutes in), the whole thing floats in a perfect, zero-gravity sweet spot.
There's a cheeky element of throwback to what Acting Press does, especially in their titles and sleeve designs, which pay homage to the '90s ambient and chillout that clearly inspires their music (the kind of thing lovingly compiled on Music From Memory's Virtual Dreams compilation). That's particularly true on Public Static V., though it wouldn't be fair to call the music itself throwback. The sound of a clattering train calls to mind The KLF's Chill Out. Vocal samples splashed in delay are very U.F.Orb. But it seems PLO Man and C3D-E understand that music too deeply to be satisfied with simply imitating it. Instead, they bring its mellow, psychedelic essence to something fresh and very much their own.
If there is one tediously retro aspect of this record, it's the fact that it's vinyl-only. Buying this one, I couldn't help but think of the New Yorker cartoon in which a man tells his friend, "The two things that really drew me to vinyl were the expense and the inconvenience." At €22 plus shipping, Public Static V. runs about twice the usual rate for a 12-inch—pretty punchy in a pandemic that's got many of us strapped for cash. Given the music is best heard as a single piece, you have to wonder about the argument against a digital format, which, beyond not needing to be flipped, would be cheaper, more globally accessible and more environmentally friendly. Even the sales notes drearily mention "delays in the production of the disc." Why not just make things easier for everyone? Sure, the artwork is cool (if you ignore what appears to be an ad for a €45 T-shirt) but the whiff of vinyl purism is this excellent record's only off-note.