(demo, 2011)

MANY OF US

WE PASS ON THROUGH THE LAND
NOT OF DIRT AND PLANTED SEED
BUT TO GROW DEEP DOWN INSIDE
BEHIND THE SOUL OF THE HOLLOW MAN
THERE'S ROOM FOR MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE OF HE
WHO OTHERWISE WAS BLIND WOULD NEVER SEE
THE STATION AND THE ORDER OF DEMANDS
FOR WHAT WE NEED
THERE ARE MANY OF US INSIDE THIS MAN
MANY OF US INSIDE THIS MAN
WE WATCH AND WAIT
WE CANNOT STAND WITHOUT THE BODY PLAN
OUR LOT OF PROPERTY
A PLOT TO BUILD UPON WITH OUR MYRIAD HANDS
THERE ARE MANY OF US INSIDE THIS MAN
MANY OF US INSIDE THIS MAN
PLEASE UNDERSTAND 
ONE BY ONE OUR NAMES ARE SCORED BENEATH THE SKIN
WE KEEP THE RECORD FOR POSTERITY 
WE'RE GRANTED SAFETY 
AND WE'RE GUIDING HIM ON THROUGH THE LAND
THERE ARE MANY OF US INSIDE THIS MAN
MANY OF US INSIDE THIS MAN
NONE OF US IS LONELY 
WE TRAVEL IN A BAND
WE HAVE OUR STRENGTH IN NUMBERS
ONE IS MIGHTY, ONE IS FEW
ONE DAY WE WILL JUMP RIGHT OUT AND DANCE
THERE ARE MANY OF US INSIDE THIS MAN
MANY OF US INSIDE THIS MAN
WE SEND OUR MESSAGES IN CONCERT 
WE'RE DRAWING PIGS OUT TO THE WATER
WE'LL REACH YOU WHEN WE CAN
THERE ARE MANY OF US INSIDE THIS MAN
MANY OF US INSIDE THIS MAN

MANY OF US

From symbioticreviews.com:


	President 0f Mozambique
JJ Brine 

9 out of 10
 

ESM for the uninitiated


by Jericho Cerrona
March 28, 2012
It’s rare for an album to become so all encompassing that even after repeat listens it still manages to offer new and enthralling surprises. Icelandic singer/actor JJ Brine’s latest LP is just one of these rare listening experiences. Dazzling, immersive, disorienting, and evoking a sensation of auditory rapture that’s nearly impossible to describe, President of Mozambique is the first truly great record of 2012.

In all honesty, Brine might be utterly bonkers (his press photos reveal a black-hooded figure obscured by a menacing chrome mask), but either way, there seems to be a deranged kind of brilliance at work here. Though reclusive, he’s nevertheless described his work as “electronic spirit music” (ESM) and claimed to have been possessed by a demon entity during the recording process. Whether or not he actually believes any of this, or is simply acting out some kind of meta-conceptual stunt is unclear, but none of this really matters because the artistic trappings never outweigh the actual music. President of Mozambique has come out of nowhere as a major statement from an artist operating along the fringes, and NY-based indie label Drug Lord Records aren’t exactly smearing the internet with shameless promotional gimmicks, either. This makes Brine’s follow up to 2011’s Code Cracker all the more extraordinary; it has the feeling of a rumbling storm slowly making its way toward the landscape of unsuspecting music listeners. Before long, Brine seems to be implying, the end of all things will be brought on by the sound of churning synthesizers and vocoder-transmitted prophesies.

Though all 11-tracks are structured around the template of gothically moody synthpop, Brine tweaks familiar sounds until they eventually turn into sonic mutations from alien life forms. There are hooks and melodies aplenty, but the music never achieves overt accessibility because everything is so warped and fractured. Take the child molestation lullaby “Candy and Love”, for example. It features a mid-tempo backbeat, swirling keyboards, xylophone, and lush production that might appeal to fans of M83, but it also contains what will probably be the litmus test for most listeners; weirdly androgynous vocals. Brine swathes his voice in all manner of vocoder effects and then layers them to create a neo-futuristic vibe that’s consistently fascinating, but the choice will possibly turn off those that desire something more easily accessible. Make no mistake; this is not auto-tune bullshit. Brine uses digitally manipulated vocals in order to create a darkly brooding atmosphere rather than as a gimmick, or to hide poor vocal abilities. Truthfully, there’s no way to really tell if Brine can sing in the traditional sense, but that doesn’t seem to matter since this isn’t the type of music that would even require such a thing. Though the production is impressively hi-fi and expansive, there’s a DIY aesthetic that means nothing is curtailed for mass consumption or to appease oblivious label execs. Therefore, the album largely follows in line with the auteur theory; namely, it sounds like something only JJ Brine could have made, though there are obvious nods and influences gleaned from other artists such as Joy Division, Depeche Mode, and especially German musician/artist/actress Nico (of whom Brine is a self-professed fan). Yes, the vocal style may alienate and the eccentricity of the songwriting is an acquired taste, but it’s hard to deny the ominous industrial stomp of “Dispossession”, the gorgeously interweaving synths and mantra-like vocals on “We Get Along”, and the epic Joy Division-esque “Innovation”.

President Of Mozambique could very well be a game changer, or it might just pass by completely unnoticed. It’s difficult to predict what kind of immediate impact the album will have and whether a work this decidedly avant-garde can reach a mainstream audience. But perhaps that’s a compliment to JJ Brine’s inventive take on portentous electronic music. Maybe something this good really can’t be fully embraced by everyone. In any case, the end is nigh, and Brine will there ushering in the apocalypse with the ultimate soundtrack.

MANY OF US

JJBrine