From the outset on Brendan Eder’s Therapy – a gorgeous assemblage of woodwind arrangements recorded in the warm, open air of a Californian church – the listener is struck by how natural it all sounds. The pace of it. The balance of it. Events unfold within each composition at an innate tempo, and it would almost seem of their own accord. In this regard, Eder’s music has much in common with the naturalist set of German electronic pioneers like Hans-Joachim Roedelius and Michael Rother, who favour conceptual simplicity over complexity, and often use nature (often in urban settings) as their chief inspiration. The overall impact of this kind of music is a powerful one. When I’m listening to these pieces, particularly “QX 2021”, “Pure (Ride The World)” and “137 Riddle”, I’m struck by the kind of poignancy that comes from negotiating disturbing and peaceful thoughts at the same time. The process of coming to terms with these kinds of equivocalities is essentially the process of therapy, and while I can only assume that the title reflects the fact that making this music constituted a form of therapy for Eder, I can safely say that listening has been therapeutic for me.
A quick look at Spotify play counts suggests that this album garnered attention largely through its inclusion of two Aphex Twin covers, “#3 (Rhubarb)” and “#17”. These covers are effectively realised, and fit in agreeably among his own on Therapy, but they certainly shouldn’t be considered as necessary props holding the album up, nor even among the best pieces on the album. In fact, his own compositions seem far stronger, more fully formed, and have a more intuitive sense of balance to them. There is something about the music of Richard D. James that seems obsessively methodical, a quality that Eder’s own music lacks, and personally I’m happier for its absence. Of course, practically speaking, woodwind Aphex Twin covers have a place in a world where every person and their dog has an ambient-cum-neo-classical album to their name, making it hard to break through. But I look forward to more from Brendan Eder, based on the strength of his own music alone.