Cepia - Natura Morta
[Ghostly, 2007]
Obviously there's no war between record labels in electronica—no equivalent of hip-hop's Bad Boy/Death Row tussle, no real gauntlet thrown down in the Big Pond. It's not part of the art- and artist-centric culture of the genre at large, but struggling to grab the attention of the same sea of ears (not to mention new ones) is. Two tracks in on Cepia's second CD, Natura Morta, and we hear floating above the zen state funky-drummer fills of "Opening Parade" tones that damn near meow at you, tones we've heard before and love to this day. This is not to say that Cepia's ripping off anyone; it's more like he, Huntley Miller, is settling into a style or hitting a harmonic or using a particular instrument/sample that sends us into orbit. Even with a roster featuring up-and-comers like Lusine and Matthew Dear, it is this album in sum that delineates just how much ground Ghostly and their ilk have gained on stalwarts such as Warp. Yes, stuff like Squarepusher's sociopathic jazz is inferred at the start of Cepia's "Clay Face," but Miller eventually contorts that skronk into approximations of classic rock guitar riffs. The opening spirals of "Tape" stay in that oeuvre by recalling the intro of David Bowie's "Fashion," and then Miller twists the rest back into shape: it still revels in synthetic majesty, just violinesque glitch and brass-like swooshes full of bravado instead of Bowie's androgynous divadom. Where electronic acts have remixed indie-rockers often beyond recognition, you might also mistake "Hoarse" or "The Undeniable Bend" for instances of turned tables—Coldplay hypothetically softening the edges of Autechre, for example, with the results sounding nowhere near as frightfully bad as you might imagine. We even find nods to the eerie: drumbeats like gasps of air and loops that suggest failing motors, detuned music boxes, slowing windup toys, a submerged carousel. Amid all the lively activity it's these sounds that really make us wonder about what inspired Miller to hunker down at home in Minnesota and polish up this little gem. There is far greater depth on Natura Morta than is suggested by its 33-minute length; it's more a mine from which to reap benefits rather than a cave in which to get lost. (AB)
e/i Magazine
Cepia - Natura Morta
[Ghostly, 2007]
'Natura Morta', Cepia's first album, was recorded in seclusion over two years and is supposedly a highly personal response to the events and circumstances of his life at the time. What those circumstances are remains a mystery, but 'Natura Mora' hints at melcancholy, fragility, long periods of reflection and finding beauty in detail.
Fans of Manitoba, Fridge, and Four Tet circa 'Pause' will instantly be on familiar ground. 'Natura Mora' has an organic feel derived from sounds that (sometimes almost exactly) mimic nature mixed in with obviously electronic bleeps. It sounds like Cepia, aka Huntely Miller, has absorbed a foresty wilderness and tried to express all the branches, droplets and leaves through his synthesiser. There are beats, sure, but they are so fragmented and irregular as to provoke thoughts, not toe-tapping. On a fair few of the tracks such as 'Opening Parade' and 'Hoarse' Cepia juxtaposes skitty backgrounds with long tones and child-like piano and glockenspiel tunes. Even though this trick is used more than once, it's a credit to Cepia that the songs have real longevity with repeat listening proving very rewarding.
Elsewhere on 'Natura Morta', the church bell melody and frenetic morse code of 'Clay Face' is a treat and 'Dot' sounds like circuit boards singing underwater. Opener 'Braile Wounds' and 'Wavebnc' are gorgeous soundscapes that evoke beautiful skies whilst 'Untitled II' has a glacial intensity that makes it arguably the best track on the album.
'Natura Morta' means 'dead nature', which is an intriguing title, especially for an album which was made with machines. It also neglects the fact that this album has a certain quality that sounds, in a furtive, unsure way, very much alive. Let's hope it doesn't get pillaged by the advertising industry.
Resident Advisor
Cepia - Atlantic Blood
[Sublight, 2006]
Fans of Cepia's Ghostly EPs Dowry and Pearl will have to wait a little bit longer for his full-length debut: though an album in track number (actually more a mini-album at 31 minutes), Huntley Miller's Atlantic Blood mixes three originals with six remixes, often making it seem more a compilation with Cepia (pronounced 'SEP-ee-uh') contributions the unifying factor. The album's most encouraging aspect is that the three originals are perhaps its strongest material which therefore makes his eventual full-length coming-out all the more enticing. Opener “Atlantic Blood” is suitably oceanic (though the water temperature is more a warm bath than the frigid cold of the lower depths) and also one of the loveliest electronic pieces heard in recent days. Cepia clothes a sing-song melody in muffled granular garb during “574” and lifts the vaporous cloud “Arount” up to the heavens.
Miller typically imbues the remix material with a stately dreaminess and intensifies its machine dimension, regardless of the originals' stylistic contrasts. On the sweeter tip, Miles Tilmann's “I've Already Forgotten” glistens beatifically while the (untitled) Tiki Obmar overhaul sweetly blossoms into a mass of shimmering tones, garbled voices, and machine ripples. Cepia adds a faded electro-ambiance to the propulsive remix of Mr. Projectile's “You Need” and rides a smeared funk-hop groove under a melancholy, child-like vibes figure in Dosh's “Naoise.” The most unusual of the lot, Fog's “Can You Believe It?” embeds vocals in a creaking, carnivalesque haze. Whether originals or remixes, it's all ultra-refined and exquisitely rendered. Now about that full-length…
Textura
Cepia - Pearl EP
[Ghostly Digital, 2006]
The second installment of the Ghostly Digital series finds Idol Tryouts/SMM staples Cepia coming to the plate to deliver a digital-only EP filled with the IDM-pop goodness one has come to expect from the Minnesota native. But what's surprising about this EP is that it is easily some of Cepia's most polished and innovative work, and a curiosity as to whether or not this a teaser of what could possibly be a full-length. The opening ambient landscape sets the stage for an all-out three-track assault of glitches, cuts, pops, and quirks all floating above a frantic percussion track which, when stripped of rhythm, seems to be measured chaos. The results are potent and engaging, with the only release coming in the EP's final seconds, when ambient swells wash away the debris.
All Music Guide
Cepia - Dowry EP
[Ghostly International, 2004]
With its multi-layered comminglings of clanking beats and melancholy themes, Dowry, the first release from Minneapolis-based Huntley Miller (aka Cepia), follows in the mechanical footsteps of Autechre and more recently Traject. The familiarity of its style is more than compensated for by the quality of its tracks, however, even if one (“Gas”) is a mere fragment. On the atmospheric tip, there’s the gently percolating “Countrytime” and “L2,” a mournful coda of gauzy ambience. Harder-edged bass pounds and fuzzy skitter enliven “The Marina, The Bank and The Eels” but the title track, where stately melodies stubbornly bleed through entangling tendrils of squawks, whirrs, and clicks, is the real stunner. A strong debut from Mr. Miller.
Stylus Magazine