Review Summary: You’d expect an album about being demotivated to be lethargic, yet Trudge hits a closer truth in the agile and wide-ranging states of mind he presents.
Titles in electronic music, perhaps moreso than any other genre, create an emotional framework from which to understand a work of art. They are often the only phrases that signal an artist’s intent.
No More Motivation is a peculiar title for a record this colorful and diverse, yet the impression it leaves saturates the whole experience. It’s the kind of record I cling to, where the emotions conveyed are ambiguous enough that I can’t pin them down, so I keep coming back.
French producer Trudge, real name Alexandre Corchia, has explored many styles leading up to his debut LP, but the approach here still stands out. No two consecutive tracks share the same style, making for one of the most eclectic debuts in the scene. Pensive trip-hop sits next to blistering techno sits next to calming ambient; any whiplash is blunted by a uniform sonic palette. Trudge favors simple melodic lines and uncomplicated textures. This allows each track to ring with clarity despite the range across the record. Opener “Bangkok Radio,” my favorite here, starts with a syncopated beat before skittering breaks enter. It then alternates between two passages: one where bright chords ring out, one where circulating synths infuse the sound space. There’s no climax, just a Zen-like repetition between these phases. The effect is so soothing because of the willingness to forgo a climax. It’s the kind of choice that continually draws me back to electronic music.
While most of the album lingers in crystalline introspection, two tracks shock with their intensity. Club music on a debut record is understandable – it’s what books gigs after all – but what fascinates me is how deeply inward Trudge’s approach is. “Unghosted” and “Punishments” combine brutal techno with glistening trance, but achieve their ends by opposite means. “Unghosted” is pure bludgeon – a battering ram that pauses for reprieve only to assault the senses again. There’s no social connection here, no outside world, just solitary release. “Punishments” on the other hand mimics a thrill ride with its twists and turns. There’s even a death drop near the end, a freefall of flickering arpeggios. You can tell Corchia was a metalhead in high school: he reaches for a similar sense of catharsis in club music, a place to purge oneself of ugly and negative emotions.
I go back to the title:
No More Motivation. The key word is “more,” signifying a drive that was once present has reached its end point. You’d expect an album about being demotivated to be lethargic, yet Trudge hits a closer truth in the agile and wide-ranging states of mind he presents. The emotions might be vague and downtuned, yet there’s an endless fascination with the ongoing experience of life. As an album both for crawling under the covers and stepping out into the world,
No More Motivation carries a subtle promise that a purpose can be found once again. It’s an internal conversation many of us have been holding the past few years; I can’t think of a better soundtrack for my own.
