Just who the hell is G Jones after an album like this? Did we have any idea what he was capable of? His jagged, intense sound design and strict monochrome visual flair earned him quite the dedicated following, but sonically, they’ve never allowed for a lot of color or exuberance. Not untilThe Ineffable Truth, that is.
Those discordant elements on Greg Jones’ past releases begged to be tempered by a single electric vision. This full-length LP not only crosses the emotional rubicon, but when it hits its stride, it’s joyous, inspired, and occasionally stunning.
Photo credit: ATS Photography
Even stacked next to his bass music contemporaries, G Jones’ music is challenging. He wears his IDM influences on his sleeve, owing his production style far more to Aphex Twin and Warp Records than anyone else packing out say, Electric Forest. It’s not easy music to dance to, and it’s always been curious to see a producer so talented playing his industrial glitch tunes to large tie-dyed audiences from where he stands out so separately.
Inside The Ineffable Truth
Invitingly, opener “222/Unknowable” glows with the kind of sonic freedom of someone that doesn’t care what you’ve heard of him before. It’s delicate and enveloping, rippling with the meticulous percussion and infectious vocoder harmonies that will be the album’s defining textures. The sample teases “I have this feeling, that seems to be coming from everything.”
Thematically and effectively, we hear a G Jones overjoyed to pull you deep down into his world, and it’s a visceral one.
This release is most chaotic and thrilling when Jones’s aggression is anchored by a newfound melodic bliss, swinging like a pendulum. “Understanding the Possibility” courses with a spritely sugar rush before glitching off-course on a 404 error from hell. “Time” clips with rattling, fearful machine gun reports before a beautiful flute melody steer the vicious rhythm to a beautiful shuffle. Early single “In Your Head” hammers hard again and again with its post-hardcore screams and exuberant “woops!” but never gets stale because the central motif is just that fucking catchy.
Equally satisfying is seeing G Jones pay his dues to his influences while adding his own unmistakable zest to the templates they left behind. “Soundtrack to the Machine” is a forward-thinking rendition of 90’s acid house, “Everything All At Once” has the quiet electronic shimmer of early Autechre. Maybe the most IDM middle finger G Jones could throw is giving even his best songs here plenty of quiet space to fade into each other, giving the album a cascading flow and elegance.
The back third of The Ineffable Truth is where Jones’ vision really crystalizes. “That Look in Your Eye“ is the crown jewel in an album chock-full of favorites. The hissing discomfort at the beginning is resolved by a rock-solid drum pattern and out of nowhere that vocoder comes back in morphed and spiraling, shouting the title into the heavens. There’s so much joy and energy coming from this vocal synth you can feel your jaw tingling.
photo courtesy of artist’s Facebook.
“Iridescent Leaves Floating Downstream“ delves further into the feeling of Chicago footwork tunes at Sunday service with its swelling keys. “Forgotten Dreams” takes on the final boss role and ties in every wonderful element of space, rhythm, and intensity on the album thus far and shifts it into old-school U.K. rave overdrive.
“This is how we used to run it,” is declared loudly on the last track, which is kind of perfect because The Ineffable Truth is bold enough of a statement to set the stage for bass music going forward. From sequencing to sound design to raw emotion, it’s one of the strongest cases for the front-to-back album experience in dance music we’ve heard in a long time.
Just who the hell is G Jones after an album like this? Did we have any idea what he was capable of? His jagged, intense sound design and strict monochrome visual flair earned him quite the dedicated following, but sonically, they’ve never allowed for a lot of color or exuberance. Not until The Ineffable Truth, that is.
Those discordant elements on Greg Jones’ past releases begged to be tempered by a single electric vision. This full-length LP not only crosses the emotional rubicon, but when it hits its stride, it’s joyous, inspired, and occasionally stunning.
Even stacked next to his bass music contemporaries, G Jones’ music is challenging. He wears his IDM influences on his sleeve, owing his production style far more to Aphex Twin and Warp Records than anyone else packing out say, Electric Forest. It’s not easy music to dance to, and it’s always been curious to see a producer so talented playing his industrial glitch tunes to large tie-dyed audiences from where he stands out so separately.
Inside The Ineffable Truth
Invitingly, opener “222/Unknowable” glows with the kind of sonic freedom of someone that doesn’t care what you’ve heard of him before. It’s delicate and enveloping, rippling with the meticulous percussion and infectious vocoder harmonies that will be the album’s defining textures. The sample teases “I have this feeling, that seems to be coming from everything.”
Thematically and effectively, we hear a G Jones overjoyed to pull you deep down into his world, and it’s a visceral one.
This release is most chaotic and thrilling when Jones’s aggression is anchored by a newfound melodic bliss, swinging like a pendulum. “Understanding the Possibility” courses with a spritely sugar rush before glitching off-course on a 404 error from hell. “Time” clips with rattling, fearful machine gun reports before a beautiful flute melody steer the vicious rhythm to a beautiful shuffle. Early single “In Your Head” hammers hard again and again with its post-hardcore screams and exuberant “woops!” but never gets stale because the central motif is just that fucking catchy.
Equally satisfying is seeing G Jones pay his dues to his influences while adding his own unmistakable zest to the templates they left behind. “Soundtrack to the Machine” is a forward-thinking rendition of 90’s acid house, “Everything All At Once” has the quiet electronic shimmer of early Autechre. Maybe the most IDM middle finger G Jones could throw is giving even his best songs here plenty of quiet space to fade into each other, giving the album a cascading flow and elegance.
The back third of The Ineffable Truth is where Jones’ vision really crystalizes. “That Look in Your Eye“ is the crown jewel in an album chock-full of favorites. The hissing discomfort at the beginning is resolved by a rock-solid drum pattern and out of nowhere that vocoder comes back in morphed and spiraling, shouting the title into the heavens. There’s so much joy and energy coming from this vocal synth you can feel your jaw tingling.
“Iridescent Leaves Floating Downstream“ delves further into the feeling of Chicago footwork tunes at Sunday service with its swelling keys. “Forgotten Dreams” takes on the final boss role and ties in every wonderful element of space, rhythm, and intensity on the album thus far and shifts it into old-school U.K. rave overdrive.
“This is how we used to run it,” is declared loudly on the last track, which is kind of perfect because The Ineffable Truth is bold enough of a statement to set the stage for bass music going forward. From sequencing to sound design to raw emotion, it’s one of the strongest cases for the front-to-back album experience in dance music we’ve heard in a long time.
Featured image credit: Maclyn Bean Photography
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