Davide Ballula – Pellicule
Active Suspension, 2003

1 Eburn (V9)
2 Puis Décongčle
3 En Jet De Soude
4 Des Files
5 Pour Une Flaque...
6 Lors Qu'Il N'Est Plus
7 Iris Em
8 Um So Piolio
9 Maan
10 Viens, Va-t-en

Milk Factory: 
Arriving hot on the heels of his excellent contribution to Active Suspension’s recent compilation Active Suspension V. Clapping Music and a three seven inch box set, Pellicule is the first album by visual artist Davide Balula. Already known and respected in the French contemporary art circles, Balula now expands his artistic contribution to music, with this compelling collection of electronic/acoustic songs.
 Hailing from Annecy in the French Alps, Balula trained in plastic arts. Adapting his approach to concrete structures to a less palpable medium, he produces one of the most interesting records heard on Active Suspension. Using his acoustic guitar as main mean of expression, he then processes the result to shape his compositions at will. Developing his uncanny folk experience around simple chords on which he attaches droplet-like glitches, Balula sculpt intense atmospheric songs, at time reminiscent of American Music Club or Red House Painters. Yet, by deconstructing his melodies and injecting elements of environmental sounds, based on samples ranging from household appliances to a mopped, he subversively corrupts the very essence of his music and uncovers far less definite sonic fields. Unsettling, Pellicule certainly is. From the delicate and almost straightforward  Eburn (9V), apparently documenting the sensations felt when a 9 volt battery touch the tongue, to the elaborate ambience of Um So Piolio, Balula draws a composite picture of his persona, retreating behind complex structures as to protect himself from bright lights. Using a mixture of French, English and Portuguese, Balula’s singing is as shady and discreet as his music. The voice, often used as an extra sonic layer rather than to convey any clear messages, appears lazy and distant, yet it also acts as a distinct focal element amongst these vast soundscapes, imperceptibly directing the attention from one context to the next. 
Pellicule reveals its intrinsic beauty with time, as the crippled melodies and deceptive inertia become less distracting with each listen, and the uneasy dichotomy of sound appears substantially more symbiotic. Balula’s gift for precise constructions and imaginative use of electronic elements sets his work apart from the wave of musicians evolving in a similar post-folk field. Pellicule is a singular piece of work and deserves to be listened to again and again.