Довольно срочно нужен небольшой перевод заметки по адресу: http://pitchfork.com/reviews/tracks/17467-arthur-russell-ocean-movie/
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Self-consciousness might be the death of art, but a little shyness is fine. Arthur Russell was shy—a camera-averse cellist and composer who made groundbreaking avant-disco records but never danced. Moved by the phases of the moon, Russell had the curiosity of a "post-internet" genre-welding pop artist before Grimes was born or that concept was fathomable. His reticence is omnipresent in his gentle, soft-sung "Buddhist bubblegum". It is especially so in the transcendent isolation of 1986's unearthly World of Echo, with its manipulated cello meditations and his sweet voice, one more of an angel than a corn-belt runaway.
Russell's shyness may explain his long infatuation with the sea—in the futuristic "Let's Go Swimming", in the spare electronic pop of"The Platform on the Ocean", in his country-folk duo the Sailboats—a place to bask in sublime vastness and be alone with thoughts. The discordant underwater collage of "Ocean Movie", off the upcoming Corn, is a new chapter, like so many Echo compositions compacted and submerged in the fish tank Russell kept humming at his apartment for its aqua-droning white noise. "Not many people allow themselves the full extent of their complexity," the journalist David Toop said in the Russell film Wild Combination, and "Ocean Movie" captures the depth of Russell's seemingly at-odds revelations—the chaos of an active polyglot mind tempered by New Age-y, zenlike calm.
"Ocean Movie" hears Russell's complexities with a harshness that did not hitherto exist in his work. With no audible vocals, it is the sound of Russell vanishing into his vision, perhaps escaping a world that did not understand him. Corn was recorded in the early 1980s, a time when NYC aggression was more akin to the kind Sonic Youth learned from Glenn Branca. While "Ocean Movie"s dissonance speaks truth to Russell's position as a true misfit, its noise is not at all destructive. It's a generative sound, and it shows yet another side of Arthur Russell, another unseen life, another reminder that limits are only what we make them.