Lux Payllettes
CD (E94)

“With this piece, I have worked with the sound material of Western
cinema in its many manifestations: from optical film sound to video
tape, DVD and also with sounds that I have recorded in cinemas
during projections. My interest in media perception was ostensibly
in one’s own relationship with the act of listening to motion picture
sounds: its clichés, tensions, diminutions, sound effects, and the
emerging emotional palettes. Yet Lux also reviews the process of
one’s identi­fication with certain actors or sections of the population,
suggesting the potentially schizophrenic relationship with these
  A schiz­oid balade, a deftly orchestrated, sometimes hysterical
melodrama of sounds on the run in search of an unfettered spatio-
temporal conti­nuum in the sun and a privileged view of the
nothing new. Eternity, or just sea and sky and a skipping CD?”

Based in Marseille, eRikm’s work references both the intimate
and the political, popular and high culture. Maintaining a constant
fusion between thought, instinct and sensitivity, he pursues a
simultaneity of practices which address the interplay between
various compositional modes. His work has been released and
exhibited widely.

Lux Payllettes includes texts by eRikm and Graeme Thomson,
and was released to coincide with Mu and Mono, two exhibitions
of cross-media work by eRikm at La Friche La Belle de Mai in
Marseille (3 July–21 August 2010) and Espace Multimédia
Gantner in Bourogne (10 July–18 September 2010).

See also
Michael J. Schumacher/NMD (E109) Edition of 300 copies (out of print)


Lux Payllettes consists of circa 32 minutes of movie snippets
that eRikM sampled and accurately processed, seaming tiny
durations to achieve a density which rivals that of acclaimed
purveyors of musique concrete. The shape of the composition
might recall similar attempts, perhaps through the use of
different sonic fonts; one can’t keep the mind away from
brands like ‘sampladelia’, ‘turntablism’ and — to quote just
two names — John Oswald’s plunderphonics and Bob Ostertag’s
fragmented obsessions. But while all of the above is (very
vaguely) comparable in terms of method, this particular piece
is unique as far as the power of reminiscence is concerned.
Cinema experts — a category to which your reporter does not
belong, for he’s a proud non-expert of anything discussable
in a social context — will have no problem in locating memorable
quotes and legendary themes, although the likelihood is that
they’re going to disappear and/or get inexorably warped in the
space of mere seconds. What transpires is the variety of moods
that a film elicits in a viewer though the sounds which inhabit
its plot. A sudden orchestral break, a shrieking woman, hysteric
laughter or a sheer jingle are psychologically affecting elements
when associated to the imagery. They also work well as isolated
sonic shards if a clever assembler manages to extract their
distressing (or touching) qualities, creating significant music
in the meantime. In this case, the mission was adequately
accomplished, the ‘repeat’ button a valid option for a better
penetration of the oeuvre’s spirit.

Massimo Ricci at Touching Extremes

The relevance of the title of the CD — which my schoolboy French
leads me to believe is a reference to soap powder — is a bit of a
mystery. Perhaps eRikm is making a point about commercialism
in the movie business, commenting on the way both movies and
advertising are able to mobilise and manipulate our desires through
the interface of sound and image. The listener is invited to consider
how sonic cyphers, whether sourced from Foley tracks, dialogue or
musical scores, all immediately create images in the mind’s eye by
means of transforming, layering and juxtaposing them so that new
contexts are created. Occasionally the breakneck pace of the music
works against the artist’s higher purpose and the data bombard-
ment feels a little hackneyed, but the compensatory pleasures of
playing ‘spot the movie’ are undeniable.

Keith Moliné in The Wire