melodius phunk - Crooked C(l)ocks: a review

Of all the Re-Analogue luminaries, Samm Anga (melodious phunk) is perhaps the most provocative, poignant, at times polarising – and patient. A summer after the designated finish for the collective, the co-founder’s enrapturing live-set (from February’s Subliminal Festival) is alive and online, having undergone a rigorous transformation from mere document of the moment to a wild filmic beast; a gig that has been remixed, remastered, improved and de-demolished to true vibrancy, dark power, a swelling production. 


Invoking the spectres of Arca, Yves Tumour and Bjork, Crooked C(l)locks is a concept suite for jagged Anthropocentric times, though tangles itself with the orchestra and jazz of days gone by, reanimated via sample. It concerns itself with virility (as per the title and its suggestive-looking “(l)”), death, ego and the apocalypse – you know, the bread and butter of male artists. But this song sequence isn’t solipsistic. The conceptual anguish is rooted to figures of motherhood (who the narrator sings to throughout) and bittersweet ambivalent salvation is found in the figure of a woman, eventually (see ‘Samson and Delilah’). “Hear this tale of a boy,” melodius phunk sings in ‘muttersong’; “once so young and golden / Til he made his choice””. 


From the glitchy textures in ‘BIG BAD WOLFWOLFWOLD (remix)’ to the ambient stylings of ‘WE LIVE pt. II’, this is a musical film worth cherishing.  It’s a phenomenal full-stop and epilogue for Re-Analogue, and that half-decade of Aberdeen art in general – we should cherish this gift, as we expand onward like the ocean, loving amid the destruction, as foretold in this portrait of the artist as a young melancholiac.