Wonder by Mirai Mizue Flying Cats Pt. 3 (credited as Cosmic Zoomies) by UON Visuals Excerpt from Final Flesh by Vernon Chatman Street Race by Christopher and Daniel Rutledge, animated by Tumblehead south african music tshetsha boys (credited as Tshetsha) by Richard Hlungwani and Nozinja Story From North America by Garrett Davis and Kirsten Lepore Excerpt from Hansel and Gretel by Cristóbal León and Joaquín Cociña Lovewatch by Harrison Atkins Excerpt from Fantastic Planet by René Laloux, provided by Argos Films Home Birth by Cossa Goodbye Mr. Schizo by Jack Stauber Iris by Remí Devouassoud
At their simplest, Shadows’ offerings are pieces of jazz-infused garage in which thick electric piano and meandering electronics share the same space as rolling step patterns. The 10-minute opener, “Myrtle Avenue,” serves as Shepard’s most elongated exploration into this world, beginning with the distant firings of a sequenced pattern before taking form. From there, he builds a patient groove led by a beautifully melodic piano lick and reinforced by occasional bursts of arpeggios and gliding synths. Eventually, the electric piano and gliding synth move in unison, repeating a progression that is as intelligent as it is warm, all the while letting the rest of track’s elements—drums, bass, and even a sparse female vocal (possibly from frequent collaborator Fatima)—fall into place around it. Like “Myrtle Avenue,” the EP’s other cuts have a remarkably natural flow to them, almost as if it wasn’t a single person programming these musical events, but rather a number of musicians playing together and improvising the movements. Sure, that’s romanticizing things a bit, as Shadows is obviously made of programmed compositions, but it is a testament to Shepherd’s technique that the line between human and electronic performance becomes so blurred as the record unfolds.