Taoyoyo: "Jello"

Alan Platten is like the opposite of the new Spider-Man: British-born but living in the States, and able to sense upcoming attacks only seconds after they’ve happened. When eighties Casio romantics Orchestal Manouevres in the Dark struck it big, Alan’s senses tingled on realising that he, an untrained musician, could also make his own brand of kinetic pop given time and the right kind of keyboards. When Orbital and their cronies in acid house began turning heads a decade later, he again sensed a phantom rock-techno element taking control of his output. And now that it’s the tens and both his mentoring acts are alive and kicking arse again, Platten is ready to dust off some favourites such as this old Taoyoyo stormer, or Retroyoyo as he likes to call it, as it first drew breath back in 2003. In those days, Platten still had much in common with his future Spider-Man counterpart: they both could be found taking tea in Swiss Cottage, London, neither aware that they might one day start speaking colloquialisms from across the Atlantic.

“Jello” is one of these colloquialisms—Platten’s first word in American, and his reaction to a continent where jam, chips, and jelly changed meaning as he stepped out through Customs. It’s the former graphic designer’s first time in the States and his new song crawls forward like a kitten: a teased synth line creeping through ultra-low growls, the cat vibes going through the roof. Platten is hungering for toast spread with Frank Cooper’s finest but all he sees are quarts of maple syrup. Luckily, as well as speaking the international code of house music, he also knows that the only way to survive change is to stay flexible, or, in this case, chewable. Hence “Jello”‘s blurred pads inspired by LA’s Crystal Method and their stirring into the deep, deep beat, the rhythm rising up like two flags. And then, impossibly, seven minutes have gone by, and you’re left landing for the second time that day. Taoyoyo let you float in this music-without-time bubble wondering how you broke through without chemicals, and as the drums fade out and the strings begin tilting you feel rested, like you’ve just been tumble-dried. That’s the closest I’ve felt to the “Jello” sensation anyway, and I’ve never even crossed the Atlantic. For Taoyoyo, though, and for a Brit who’s headed west to spread his roots and explore pastures new, he certainly beats the fuck out of Sting.

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