Electronic Sound July 2015 (Regular Edition) | Page 35

as it first seems. It sort of cracks and
crumbles in places, like it’s broken, but
only slightly. Like notes are missing, but
not. Like there’s a loose wire, a dodgy
connection. This, you think, is going to
be interesting.

MARIBOU STATE
Portraits
COUNTER

From the leafy ‘burbs, Hertfordshire
duo turn in gentle, off-kilter belter
The ‘bou duo of Chris Davids and
Liam Ivory grew up in Potten End in
Hertfordshire (population 1,340, two
pubs, village hall, junior school, church,
shop). They’ve lived there all their lives,
save for a stint at Leeds Uni, where,
having studiously ignored each other
right through school, they discovered a
shared passion.
Fast forward and sleepy Herts is where
their studio, “the shack out the back”,
is based. It brings to mind Ultramarine
and their remote workshop on the
edge of the Essex marshes, skirting
the Blackwater estuary, and how
their surroundings conjure images in
their music. You can almost smell the
saltwater in some of their tunes. So what
sort of noise comes out of leafy Potten
End?
Working together since 2011, with a
string of remixes and the very well
received ‘Tongue’ and ‘Truths’ EPs for
Norman Cook’s Southern Fried label to
their name, ‘Portraits’, Maribou State’s
debut album, opens gently enough – but
the shuffling beat of ‘Home’ isn’t as sleek

Despite its village-y genesis, it’s a very
urban sounding record with that pretty
much de rigueur R&B twang. It also has
a mix of upbeat and downtempo, of
instrumentals and vocal guests, including
Holly Walker, long-time collaborator
Pedestrian, and Portico pal Jono
McCleery, who seems to be everywhere
at the moment. ‘Portraits’ is a record
that shares much of the same DNA as
Portico. What sets it apart is that slightly
broken thing. The little noises. The
buzzes. The crackles.
The housey ‘The Clown’, feat Pedestrian,
judders away with stabbing strings that
sound like they’ve been recorded in a
barn with no doors and a broken mic.
Probably were for all we know. The
collision of the warm infectious grooves

and the flaky gripes and grumbles is a
joy. Squonky enough, but not ov erly
squonked. ‘Raincoats’ is perhaps the
standout. Dubby, with its long-slung bass
chime and echo, a submarine type ping
somewhere over there, the repetitive
vocal refrain is so muddy it’d need a
good hose down on the doormat before
you’d let it in. By crikey though is it
good.
So the music that comes out of Potten
End was never going to be leather on
willow and Vaughan Williams, was it?
If you wanted to sum up Maribou State
in a nutshell, their label have it down,
describing them perfectly in two words:
dishevelled synths. DISHEVELLED
SYNTHS! It’s the restrained rumble of a
V-8. A confident, classy, respectful low
purr as it passes through the village at
30 mph, but once you get out on those
B-roads and open it up… Boy, what a
growl.
NEIL MASON