Flim: Helio

Flim
Helio
Tomlab
2003-03-12

Helio is the second release by Dresden, Germany-based artist Enrico Wuttke. Following Given You Nothing, his debut for the Tomlab label, Helio is a work that is more complex and cerebral than the first, while at the same time possessing many of the elements that made Given You Nothing a success. Consisting mainly of plucky piano and drone-like synth tones, Helio is a difficult record to review. It possesses a highly original sound that is hard to put into words. Imagine Brian Eno’s most minimal works, coupled with the childlike grace of Mum and the dissonance of John Cage, and you’d be close to the sound of Flim.

Enrico Wuttke has been making music for only a short while, taking the Flim moniker from frequent misspellings of a song title (“Kinofilm”). While only 31 years of age, Wuttke makes music that seems to come from someone much older, as it appears to be born more from ideas and theories rather than emotion. Like Eno’s generative music, it is as interesting for its concept as it is for its aesthetic qualities Which is not to say that Helio is cold or pedantic, quite the contrary actually, as many of the tracks have a reassuring quality that is quite at odds with the music’s structure and dynamics.

A strangely beautiful and enigmatic album, Helio opens with the oddly titled, “How I Trashed My Knees”. Dissonant brass and electronic twinkling gradually coalesce into a spongy whole, as Flim delicately builds great tension by layering element upon element until it all breaks down into a gentle exit.

Helio hits its stride with the next two tracks. “Conversation” sounds like a kid playing with a synthesizer; it has an innocence to it, while at the same time being strikingly avant-garde. Or maybe just strikingly random. Either way, it’s intriguing for its shimmering splendor as it ends wistfully with only a lone piano.

As the album’s center piece, “Chime” starts quietly at first with a gentle synth bed and organic cricket-like percussion that calls to mind Tranquility Bass’s classic, “They Came in Peace”. Soon the sound of streams and nature take hold as the electronic elements and the natural blend beautifully in symphonic harmony. Halfway through the piece, the synth beds have fallen into a pretty melody as all of the building elements compliment each other wonderfully. It’s the highpoint of an already captivating record.

Later on, Wuttke spices things up with some aggressive, crunchy beats (“For Fred”) and samples of children singing and laughing in what sounds like Japanese, but it’s difficult to tell (“Helio”). The album closes with the understated charm of “Hell II”, which is probably the only song in recorded history to contain “Hell” in the title and yet contain music of such childlike simplicity. It’s a nice way to follow up the grating, antagonistic “For Fred” and it allows the album to bookend perfectly, as it ends similarly to how it began.

Flim sounds like he should be next in line to collaborate with Björk, as his minimalist electronica meets natural elements the way Björk’s music often does. Plus, he’s just left field enough to provide a sound that is familiar in style, but strikingly original at the same time. If you’re a fan of Mum, and appreciate the music-box innocence of their backing tracks, than you may very well enjoy Helio, but be aware that for all Flim’s minimalism, there is a lot going on here too. It’s an album that rewards multiple listens, and engages the mind as well as the heart. Helio is one of the more intriguing albums that you’re likely to hear in 2003.