A Mystical Journey Over a Cloud: A Review of Polygonia's Newest Single
- by Martín Cacho
- in Reviews
This January 31, prepare for an auditory adventure as Polygonia unveils its latest masterpiece, "Da Nao Tian Gong" – a musical tale with elements from the timeless Chinese classic, "Journey to the West." Released under the storytelling-focused Midgar Records label.
The name translated as "Havoc in Heaven," draws inspiration from the fictional temple where Sun Wukong, the legendary Monkey King, was born.
The profound influence of "Journey to the West" extends not only across Chinese folklore and pop culture, but also permeates international realms, thanks to iconic Japanese animation works that drew inspiration from this story, such as Dragon Ball, Naruto, and One Piece.
A few days ago, Polygonia treated us to a taste of the upcoming album. Our first glimpse came through the ethereal single "Yin Dou Jun,” which will be the first track of the upcoming album. Yin Dou Jun doesn't have a literal translation, but is the name of the magical cloud that Sun Wukong employs for his celestial travels.
Initially, before delving into the context of the work, I believed the music to be an exploration of the expanse and constriction of the universe, given the song's varying levels of density. But let's keep the magical cloud in mind, that adds a lot to the appreciation of the music.
The track opens the sound horizon with a rhythmic rain of particles, a breathtaking symphony beautifully panned to assault each ear with different rhythms. The timbre, saturated in convolved reverb, feels almost palpably wet.
In a departure from typical cloud precipitation depictions, the magical dance of particles undergoes a unique metamorphosis. Instead of transitioning from cloud to rain, this rain gradually takes on the dense shape and texture of a cloud. While the music mirrors the lightweight nature of a cloud, it is far from lethargic; instead, it crazily dances with the swiftness of Sun Wukong's mythical cloud, a reminder that the magical cloud can traverse a third of the Earth's circumference in a single leap.
The techno-infused bass introduces a familiar four-on-the-floor beat, you know, the typical tum-tum-tum-tum sound you expect in the bass or the kick-drum. However, the main melody defies conformity. Nimble and unpredictable, it doesn't adhere to the 4/4 measurements. The main phrase is crafted in an intriguing way, with the last note of the musical phrase becoming the first note of the next. This ensures that the beginning and end of the music never land in the same spot within a 4/4 scheme.
This ingenuity in Techno, where all beats carry equal weight, allows for metrical flexibility, devoid of hierarchy, enabling experimentation with various melodies, regardless of length or fit within a 4/4 structure. It is possible to write a melody within diverse time signatures like 8/4 or 9/4, anything! adding to the dynamic range.
Beyond compositional and theoretical implications, a curious phenomenological effect emerged during my listening experience. The elimination of rhythm hierarchy in techno not only makes it easy to dance but also sparks body movement experimentation. Any movement fits a techno dance – jumping, making crazy faces – it all works! It not only works; it provokes you to dance. When you listen to a good techno song, you can't help but want to move your head.
I know, the discovery of the century: techno is great for dancing!. However, follow me a little bit more. With the disparity between 4/4, the absurd rhythmic complexity, and the constant timbral and textural evolution of the main melody, the song invites you to contemplate it in the same fashion as a classical symphony or an old-school electronic work. It encourages you to follow the melody with focus and attention, exploring how it morphs alongside the different orchestral phases implemented by Polygonia in the song.
In essence, the music compels the body to move, yet the mind is ensnared in the intricate web of the song's layers. This unique juxtaposition creates an enthralling and paradoxical experience, feeling both primitive and religious yet sophisticated and sublime. This sentiment echoes my experience with Polygonia's previous album, "Otro Mondo," particularly in the mesmerizing work, "Mind Alteration."
In conclusion, I believe Polygonia is the best techno composer I've heard in years. However, my invitation extends beyond techno lovers – anyone with musical curiosity from any background will find enjoyment in this music, whether you wish to contemplate, dance, or embark on a musical discovery.
Listen to Polygonia on Spotify.
