Jasmine Guffond Muzak For The Encouragement Of Unproductivity

Inspired by Sam Kidel's "mimetic hacking" concept, Berlin-based composer Jasmine Guffond imagines a dystopian ambiance fit for 2025 on her superb new album, piping opiated brass and woodwind motifs into a reverb chamber modelled on an Amazon fulfilment centre. Haunting, compelling gear - Riyl Gavin Bryars' 'Sinking of the Titanic', Pinkcourtesyphone, Rafael Toral, Pan American, Disruptive Muzak. Real, low-key Aoty territory.

When Sam Kidel released 'Disruptive Muzak' in 2016, he foresaw a level of societal and technological disintegration that we're still coming to terms with almost a decade later. What was relegated to the UK and its Kafkaseque social benefit systems on that record stretched out through the wider world on 2018's 'Silicon Ear', when Kidel used photos and convolution reverb processes to engineer an imaginary rave at the Google Data Center in Tokyo. Guffond takes Kidel’s idea and runs with it on 'Muzak for the Encouragement of Unproductivity', creating a suite of music that actively critiques the "techno-feudal" reality of contemporary capitalism.

The project was conceived originally as a sound installation in 2021 for the 'Books for Earworms' series at Zabriske bookshop, where composers were asked to select a book to accompany their own music. Guffond chose David Graeber's controversial 'Debt, the First 5000 Years ', that traces the history and impact of credit systems, and drafted her first iteration of 'Muzak...' as a dedication to Graeber's "non-industrious poor". "At least they aren’t hurting anyone," he writes. "Insofar as the time they are taking time off from work is being spent with friends and family, enjoying and caring for those they love, they’re probably improving the world more than we acknowledge."

By the time she performed the piece again at the Woolahra Gallery in Gadigal Land/Sydney, Guffond had integrated more instrumental elements, adding trumpet and trombone parts from versatile British player Hilary Jeffrey. The gorgeously reverberant sounds, along with clarinet drones from Kai Fagashinski, truly expand the language of the composition, bringing jazzy traces of '70s and '80s elevator music (we're hearing library brass and decelerated orchestral themes) into Guffond's finely-drawn frame. It's at this point where the space itself - programmed specifically to draw us further into the concept itself - becomes noticeable. It’s not so much that you’d know how an Amazon warehouse sounds, but there's an eerie familiarity to the humdrum themes that float through the air. The music is too slow and too exquisite, too precise and too compelling to inspire any real hard work - you want to bunk off, zone out, and absorb it properly.

Not just a commentary on background music, ‘Muzak for the Encouragement of Unproductivity’ ends up being a subtle statement about contemporary "ambient" and drone forms, where experimental techniques have been hijacked by lazy clout chasers, self-styled wellness gurus and beanbag snoozers. Guffond's composition is so expertly arranged, tweaked and engineered that it makes us acutely aware of what we've been missing. For a soundtrack to dystopia, it ain't half idyllic.