Dave Ball is certainly a name to conjure with: he may not have quite the recognition of his flamboyant former recording partner Marc Almond, but as one half of Soft Cell, he was one of the undisputed pioneers of synth pop. Meanwhile, Jon Savage is a classically-trained pianist. But ‘Photosynthesis’ is neither synth-pop nor classical; it is, in fact, a work of dark, unsettling electronica, but one which grew out of experimenting with elements of each player’s musical domain.
Personally, I’ve long considered the music of the mid to late 70s which eschewed conventional instrumentation and song-structures and set out to dismantle everything which had come to be recognised as ‘music’ in the contemporary and commercial sense – by which I mean the music of bands like Throbbing Gristle and Cabaret Voltaire – to be infinitely more punk than the amped-up pub rock of bands like the Pistols. ‘Photosynthesis’ draws on, and feeds off, this seem of musical history to forge something which stands apart, and, despite being an instrumental work, speaks its intentions loudly.
It's a murky, swampy, semi-ambient work that throbs and glows, part subterranean life, part alien in its makeup. After building an epic, kaleidoscopic swirl over the first the two tracks, ‘ATM 2#’ begins with a pulsation which calls to mind Suicide’s ‘Rocket USA’, before an aching, howling drone bends and tenses over the top.
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Dave Ball explains the album’s title, concept, and evolutionary process by noting that “The title ‘Photosynthesis’ was re-appropriated from the botanical process. Sitting in the garden surrounded by trees and plants on a sunny day, the idea of organisms using sunlight to synthesise nutrients from CO2 and water became an inspiration to us. This idea, juxtaposed with mankind’s destruction of the planet through pollution and war gave us the inspiration to compose this soundscape”.
That juxtaposition becomes increasingly clear as the album progresses. While ‘Hypodermic’ drifts like mist, its form indistinct, ‘Liquid Skyliner – Zeitgeist’ introduces structured rhythms. Mechanised, robotic, it’s a cold, clinical affair, the synths which hover over the beats duelling with ominous, wavering feedback unforgiving. Gradually, the sound swells and a pulsating, and infinitely bleak, post-krautrock soundscape emerges.
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