Album Review: Joe Quiets Trips by Pimplof
Alright, so let’s talk about Joe Quiets Trips by Pimplof. This 2011 release from France is one of those albums that kinda sneaks up on you. It’s not your typical electronic or jazz record—it’s more like someone took both genres, threw them in a blender, and hit “puree.” Add a dash of free improvisation and experimental vibes, and you’ve got something truly wild. The album came out under Bruits Netlabel, and big props to Jade for the artwork, which fits the whole chaotic yet chill mood perfectly.
Now, I gotta say, this isn’t background music. You can’t just throw it on while you’re folding laundry or whatever. This is sit-down-and-listen kinda stuff. Two tracks really stuck with me: "Green Trip" and "Bad Trip." Let me break it down.
"Green Trip" starts off all smooth and floaty, like you're gliding through some neon-lit forest in a dream. But then—boom!—it drops into this glitchy, jazzy chaos that feels like your headphones are having an identity crisis. Like, wait, is this even still the same song? And somehow, it works. It's unpredictable but not annoying, y'know? Feels like being surprised by a friend who shows up with donuts when you're hangry.
Then there’s "Bad Trip," which lives up to its name. This track hits different. It’s darker, messier, and honestly? Kinda stressful in the best way possible. There’s this moment around the halfway mark where everything just collapses into noise, and I’m sitting there like, “Is my speaker broken?” But nope, that’s just Pimplof doing their thing. It’s disorienting, sure, but also kinda thrilling. Like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded.
The rest of the album keeps that same energy—tracks like "Blue Trip" and "Red Trip Free Jazz Attacks" keep pushing boundaries without ever feeling repetitive. Even "Depression" (yeah, real subtle title) manages to sound melancholic without dragging you down too hard. Props to Pimplof for keeping things fresh throughout.
Here’s the weird part though: after listening to this album, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much it reminded me of... cooking. Seriously. Not gourmet chef-level cooking, but like, scrambling eggs at 3 AM when you’re half-asleep and slightly tipsy. Everything’s a little messy, a little improvised, but somehow it still turns out okay. Maybe that’s what makes Joe Quiets Trips so memorable—it’s imperfect, unpredictable, and totally unafraid to be itself.
So yeah, if you’re into music that challenges you and doesn’t spoon-feed you catchy hooks, check this out. Just maybe don’t listen to "Bad Trip" before bed unless you want nightmares about saxophones attacking you.
