Triplicate Records newcomer Abigail Lentz, under the 'Le Morte D'Abby' moniker brings forth an extremely enjoyable musical project titled 'I Am'. The lofty title is well deserved, and the record often feels like a living entity. Moments of joy and pure unbridled energy permeate the bulk of it. I Am is packed with not just sonic expertise and passion, but an appreciation of all that drives musicians to create beautiful projects like this.

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INTERVIEW
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George Ernst: Tell me about the title. 'I Am' is something God says right? The track titles are all quotes that start with the album name, "I Am".

Abigail Lentz AKA Le Morte D'Abby: I usually don't settle on names until close to the end when I have all the tracks pretty much dialed in. The last track reminded me of Exodus 19:16.
"And it came to pass on the third day in the morning, that there were thunders and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the mount, and the voice of the trumpet exceeding loud; so that all the people that was in the camp trembled."
And He did. "And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM." Exodus 3:14

GE: What's it like living in Florida? Do they appreciate good tunes down there?

AL: Bright and Hot. Sweaty. Like a sauna. Tons of strip malls and convenience stores. The peninsula is slowly becoming one massive sprawl. Population and rent climb every day. Traffic has reached the untenable stage. I'm leaving by the end of the year.

Where I'm at is mostly a cultural wasteland. Mostly. However, this is where I made friends with people who introduced me to Legendary Pink Dots and Fad Gadget and Throbbing Gristle and Skinny Puppy and Billie Holiday and Frank, and even William Burroughs. This is also the stop on ZZ Top's Recycler tour where The Black Crows bowed out due to a disagreement with Miller Lite (tour sponsors), only to start again with the next tour stop. Still never seen the Crows in concert.

I have seen Tool and Marilyn Manson and Depeche Mode and Assemblage 23 and Laurie Anderson and Dead Can Dance and Harry Connick Jr. down here. So, culture does find its way in sometimes. But, broadcast radio is the worst. It's all chart-driven cans. If you like hearing Jimmy Buffet over and over and over and enjoy the need for constant air conditioning and get a kick from rolling the dice on skin cancer, you'll love it down here.

GE: Would you rather have knees that talk to each other every couple of hours or hands made of wool?

AL: I should say talking knees. But, having heard Willam Burroughs tell his morality tale of the man who taught his asshole how to talk, I'm convinced that talking body parts will turn on you. Every. Time.

GE: How does one come to name a track something like 'A Deeply Superficial Person'.

AL: "I am a deeply superficial person," is an Andy Warhol quote. He's intrigued me since first reading the Stone's interview with Bowie and Burroughs where they describe him as having a green tinge. People like him and Grace Jones are amazing artists and pure geniuses in the meta of artistic creation and consumption.

GE: What's your favorite tune on the album? Mine's probably 'Not Someone Who is Loved'.

AL: "That I Am". It's the one track that sounds nothing like how it started. I experiment my way through tracks. Still so much for me to learn. And every once in a while, I stumble on a sound that completely upends everything. I delete everything that came before it and starts rebuilding from there. It's not a dance track but it is a sound that is all me.

"Not Someone Who Is Loved" is another track that got mostly gutted after I had already finished it. I struggled with it for weeks. I was trying for something specific but my lack of deep experience conspired against me and I failed to achieve it. Reoriented and went in a different direction.

GE: Did you strive to make such a danceable record or did it just sort of flow naturally from how you were feeling at the time of its creation?

AL: I started the project only knowing the tempo. 130 bpm on every track. And very percussive. Wasn't thinking danceable. Only one track is driven by a four on the floor. My father wonders how I can write while listening to techno or EDM. My soul may be buried in goth, but that is where my creative flow is.

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REVIEW
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The Florida-based producer knocks it out of the park right from the get-go; the lushness of the chords that whoosh into existence on 'A Mystery to Myself' carry an almost spiritual sense of comfort, and wonder. It's a song that makes feeling anything other than positive unthinkable, and this is all before you're treated to the belting wheels of arpeggios and the pounding club-ready beat kicks in. It's overwhelming in its likeability and earworm-ready twists.


Rapidly we're warped into the immediacy-front loaded jam 'A Deeply Superficial Person', wherein it becomes apparent that this is a record that surfs waves of goodwill at a great speed, unrelenting and magical. An ever-evolving, always head-boppable mechanical beat, warbling bass, a sample no one on this side of the awake/asleep divide could hope to place, all expertly arranged, tightened, and ramped up to the nth degree. A synthetic delight that continues to build upon the good mood engendered on the godly opener.

Humbly titled, 'The Greatest' threatens to swallow reality in its sci-fi opening statement, though the alienish synth odyssey is quickly enveloped by another certified banger. There's more of an edge to this one. We get hints of dinginess in the rough abrasiveness of certain textures, a seedy underbelly to the polished dancefloor glare of its two predecessors, and a complex bit of percussive interplay as multiple kits coalesce deliciously.

Massive standout, and bearing a title that feels like the previous track's depressed little sister, 'Not Someone Who Is Loved' does a wonderful job of marrying mystery, intrigue, and wonder with a subtle yet unmistakable miasma of melancholy. It's a hopeful longing in high-octane intricately programmed electronica, with arpeggios that will melt your brain into a happy puddle of goo.

The Danger sets things to half speed for a little while. Well closer to a trendy 80's synthwave .75 speed but who's counting? As the title implies, there are hints of doubt and unrest in the melody, though by the time the lead synth line drops it's all forgotten in a blaze of squelchy futurism and brighter-than-the-sun key stabs. It's a tune Lentz aerates from time to time with percussive breaks and long reflective pad-work. It can be simultaneously chill and energizing and anyone who makes music like this will know that's not a simple thing to pull off, though a similar tone carries on through the acid-based skittery mammoth that is 'A Poem'. Pushing 7 and a half minutes, there're a lot of stanzas, always evolving, keeping things fresh, with a pretty and forlorn synth and pad playing throughout, gradually taking a back seat to a wild array of dueling melodies, all vastly appealing parts which make up an exquisite aural entirety.

The combination of Bombastic drums, a delicate high-octave key pattern, interspersed with the clinking metal-on-wood creaks of some great old fantastical lumbering machine of Miyazaki-esque design may sound rather disparate on paper, but in practice, these elements form the basis of the truly superb title track (sort of) that closes the record. Lofty heights are reached early in the composition, leaving Lentz the second half of this massive tune to reflect on its dizzying highs, as it contemplatively unwinds, as though the album itself were collecting itself, powering down for future usage. Appropriate, as I Am often feels like a living, if not necessarily breathing entity. Packed with not just sonic expertise and passion, but an appreciation of all that drives musicians to create beautiful projects like this.