Thee Reps - Minimal Surface - instrumental rock band with viola combines minimalistic repetition & wonky time signatures; imagine if Horse Lords scored Animal Crossing (Cassauna)
Minimal Surface is the full-length debut from the long-running NYC band Thee Reps. As their name suggests, Thee Reps’ method of investigation involves finding good ideas and exploring them over long periods of repetition, sometimes with utter simplicity, other times with intricate, evolving interlocking lines. While relating to compositional motoric minimalism, Krautrock of the 70s, and post-rock of the 90s, Thee Reps offer something of a different flavor - less bombastic, more inscrutable, always flexible, and deeply focused.
Performed by Dave Ruder (guitar), Karen Waltuch (viola), Jeff Tobias (bass guitar), Sam Morrison (keyboards), Max Jaffe (drums)
Thee Reps - Cryptocartography - imagine if Bitchin' Bajas and Penguin Cafe Orchestra had a baby
Thee Reps make instrumental music, and that music likes to repeat.
Sam Morrison - electric piano, hand percussion
Mike McCurdy - drums
Dave Ruder - synthesizer
Andie Tanning - violin, viola
Jeff Tobias - electric bass
It’s right there in the name: Thee Reps are passionate about repetition. They hammered the point home on their debut cassette, Minimal Surface. A half-decade later, substantial compositional growth has enabled the NYC-based five-piece to deepen and broaden their approach to music-making. With Cryptocartography, repetition is now in service to the structure of Thee Reps’ songcraft. They’ve plunged deeper into the sea of iteration and have searched out new waters to explore. Improvisation and chamber music are even more prevalent than before, and the minimalist nests of repetition are even more elaborate. The album’s title alludes to mapping locations that are only rumored to exist; on Cryptocartography Thee Reps’ create these spaces using a sound that has grown in both depth and sophistication.
Thee Reps’ maturity is apparent as soon as the outer space synth tones of “Mr. Telephone Thrower” beam into focus. It’s a punky anthem propelled by a juiced-up rhythm section. Sam Morrison and Andie Tanning take turns riffing on the signature melody, while Dave Ruder’s synth saws through the sky, shooting off bursts of sparkling light. A common thread that weaves its way throughout the album, Tanning’s searing high pitched arco strays from the script with a short but soaring melody. Most of the songs on Cryptocartography sit in lower energy orbits than this piece, but there are exceptions. “Exit A” captures a space age bachelor pad vibe that leaps into a fiery free jazz maelstrom, and “Fluency” emits echoes of Terry Riley with its short, staccato phrases.
On the mellower tracks, it’s easy to lose yourself within the chasms of mesmerizing and slowly unfurling rhythm. All it takes is for Tanning to emit a melody with her bow, or for Ruder’s synth to send off a blistering roar to regain focus and capture our attention. The enigmatic “Risque du Choc” employs both methods, coming across as a chamber piece from outer space. Deliberate yet jumpy, “3AM” is centred on piano chords and bowed strings, but with the added benefit of a snappy drum break courtesy of Mike McCurdy alongside Jeff Tobias’ melodic bass work. “Life Mask” starts off with a metronomic consistency but eventually blossoms into a delightful pairing of violin and piano melodies.
The band members shared songwriting duties on Cryptocartography, which explains the album’s shifting moods. It’s Thee Reps’ synergy and their ability to work as a unit that conjure a cohesive body of work, one in which the individual personalities shine through as colors and hues. These subtle shifts in tone and temperament bring about a truly engaging listening experience.
