Shadowy duo Rezzett have become the defining act of Will Bankhead’s Trilogy Tapes over the past few years. Their sound is decidedly leftfield, full of distorted drums and blown-out kicks, but there’s always a delicate web of feeling that glazes their music, caught between rave nostalgia and a blurry futurism. Instruments and samples are often processed beyond recognition, synths yawn out, evoking a wistful desolation.
Their latest, Doyce, strips away many of the pair’s most abrasive techniques, allowing the music’s complex emotional affect to take centre stage. The title track is an enchanted forest swathed in mist, its synths drifting like phantoms. Occasionally other sounds make themselves heard through the fog – the tinkle of jammed piano keys and drums that hurry out in little spatters and flurries. It’s a deeply affecting piece of music, made all the more effective by the thoughtful structure of its 8-minute runtime.
The Yavas Mix on the B-side, presumably a reference to the Turkish word for ‘slow’, is exactly that. Rezzett strip all the percussion away to craft an utterly consuming trip – only the scything synths, resonant strings and haphazard piano keys counterpointed in melancholic fashion. The lack of beats may signal that this is some of Rezzett’s more challenging work but the result is quite the opposite – never have they sounded so open, so vulnerable.