Even when you see LeBrecht on the street in New York City, there’s a bubble of unearthly stylishness around her, a sense that she’s a one-person subculture. Greenpot Bluepot’s music is built around her voice: a purring, whooping, magnificently imperfect, magnificently assured noise that’s LeBrecht’s and nobody else’s. That dogged individuality, of course, makes the so-what-does-it-sound-like question kind of hard. (“Uh.
There’s some Marble Index in there, definitely. And possibly also some zeuhl and Pandit Pran Nath and Latin freestyle and Cat Power and Meredith Monk and Brown Rice and Family Fodder and stuff.”) So maybe think of it this way: what comes out of the Greenpot Bluepot machine is songs. What goes into it is a lot more than songs, especially avant-garde art and brushes with the uncanny. LeBrecht has alarmingly deep knowledge of particular things she cares about: Andy Kaufman, tarot, Michelangelo Antonioni.
She’s spent months on end immersing herself in contemporary composition, in corporate life, in the history of palmistry. She spent some time as La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela’s assistant at the Dream House, their mammoth, long-running drone-and-light installation. For a while, she slept at the Dream House a few nights a week. As anyone who’s visited it even for an hour will tell you, that will change you. And the songs that LeBrecht’s developed and distilled and edited and reconfigured into Ascend at the Dead End could only have been created by somebody who’s been changed a few times over and is still changing.
It’s both Greenpot Bluepot’s liveliest record to date and the most disorienting thing you’re likely to hear any time soon, a party with tiny mutated creatures writhing right under the dance floor. The idea, LeBrecht explains, was to make pop music with the tools of experimental music, or vice versa. (A lot of the album was written in microtonal tunings; some of it was composed over the course of many months; some of it, including the closing “Melting Sword,” was improvised.) The closer attention you pay to its songs, the richer and more complicated they get. As LeBrecht puts it, recording Ascend at the Dead End was an attempt to push herself outside her comfort zone.
It turns out that what was waiting out there was stranger and more beautiful than anything she’d created before—and what makes Greenpot Bluepot part of the lineage of great New York originals is her willingness to defy even her own expectations. - Douglas Wolk Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply..
show me more