Gouseion’s drums have been called “hard as fuck.” And it’s
true—they really are. But they also transcend mere profanity to
reach peaks most producers can only dream of. I am here to tell you
that Gouseion’s drums are as hard as the mighty hammer of Thor,
Mjöllnir, and there are times on his new album, Nijikon,
that they make sounds akin to that legendary weapon fiercely banging a
sheet of slate in a thunderstorm.
Gouseion—or Cassidy DeMarco, or Casio, or Casiocity, as he has
been known variously over the years—is likely Portland’s best, if
least-known, producer actively releasing records. Years ago DeMarco
began making a name in the Portland beat scene producing for the
now-defunct hiphop duo Brokaw. While the union between emcee Colin
Jones and DeMarco never managed to birth an LP, it did cement the idea
in the consciousness of many listeners that DeMarco is a truly gifted
beatsmith.
“[The album] had been in production for a really long time,”
explains DeMarco of the failed recording. “It’s hard to remember how
long we worked on it, but it started around 2003.”
With Brokaw unready to release a debut, DeMarco turned his efforts
to solo instrumental electronica. In 2007 he signed with Run Riot
Records on the strength of his previous work, releasing the classic
Puisne—which is, start to finish, the equal of any
electronic release Portland has ever seen.
While it received good reviews in various press outlets (including
XLR8), Puisne did not garner DeMarco the attention or
status of some other area artists. “Musically I think the album was a
success, but financially it wasn’t,” says DeMarco. This is
unfortunate, because the speedy sound of it takes NES electronica to
new heights of intensity and prowess. It’s like listening to the
soundtrack of Mega Man 2 on coke while stabbing your most-hated
enemy with a lightsaber.
His newest release, the digital-only Nijikon, continues where
Puisne left off, combining ferocious synths with drums; all the
while layering them over somber keyboards that add pathos to their
intensity. The aforementioned drums are what truly set DeMarco’s work
apart from the crowd. Too often electronic music features kicks and
snares that sound as if they were manufactured by a wind-up monkey toy,
choosing to lazily motivate listeners by means of melody alone. In his
catalog of tracks, DeMarco slaps that position in the face, with
thumping kits and some ridiculously geeked-out programming.
The kind of constant, blinking vehemence that DeMarco supplies to
his Gouseion productions creates a sound more in tune with downtown
Tokyo than downtown Portland. Perhaps that’s by design. DeMarco is a
certified Japanophile whose moniker, Gouseion, roughly translates to
“synthetic sound” in English. In Japan, it’s also a word used to
describe ring tones.
“The decision to name things in Japanese was more about abstracting
the words so that people wouldn’t have preconceived notions about what
things should sound like,” DeMarco explains. “And you can’t get much
more foreign than a different language with a totally different
alphabet.”
On Nijikon, the formula for DeMarco’s previous success
remains in effect: crispy synths, catchy melodies, and banging drums.
After being relatively anonymous for some time, DeMarco’s new release
has the potential to catch on with a wider audience.