Fourteen years is a long break, but that's how long it took Colin Andrew Sheffield & James Eck Rippie to return to the studio. Variations first appeared in 2001, followed by two sound installations; then silence. When one listens to the newly expanded edition of Variations (also on Elevator Bath), one realizes how well their music has aged. Ironically, the ancient patina unmoors the music from time. One would not be surprised to hear such a recording today.
Last summer, the two returned to collaboration with new energy and new ideas, releasing what has since become the first of a series. We suspect that Essential Anatomies will wear just as well as its predecessor. The first volume delves into samples and loops, conjuring comparison to Basinski and Kirby, two contemporaries who have also remained relevant, defying the odds. This gorgeous recording drifts and curls, softly snorting like a dragon taking a break from a century's nap. Touches of modern classicism grace the recording, lending it an air of sublimated dignity. Less instrument-based than mood-based, the two side-long tracks invite listeners to wander down painted hallways and to marvel at the fading colors.
Fast-forward only a bit, to winter 2017. A second tape is released, bearing the same title but slightly different track names (the unsurprising 3 and 4). The cover image is again fascinating, repeating the dance theme, although these are by no means dance tapes. Eugenia Loli's vintage collages operate as visual reflections of the music, best described as abstract plunderphonics. Sheffield and Rippie use samplers and turntables to sculpt the past into new forms that defy instant categorization; suffice it to say that the old has never sounded so new.
The latest edition of Essential Anatomies is thicker and crunchier than its predecessor, with sharper edges. Where 1 and 2 soothe, 3 and 4 abrade. The shifts are swifter, the notes more dissonant. On Side A, one can even hear rhythms, albeit very slow. The end of 3 bleeds a surprising amount of turmoil, which subsides slightly on 4. The haunted ballroom vibe of Variations resurfaces midway through Side B, providing a link back to that earlier work.
23-minute tracks need variety in order to hold the attention, and the duo is up to the challenge. The mystery of the music draws one in: what's coming next? On subsequent plays, the ears gravitate to specific segments and sounds: stuttered stardust, feedback loops. If Volume One is an invitation to surrender to large sounds, Volume Two is a celebration of small sounds. Some samples last for only seconds, and never repeat; others wander through mazes before returning. Through it all, the live improvised nature of the recording shines through. The flow is not perfect, nor is it intended to be. This is a soundtrack to curiosity. What's next? We'll just have to keep listening.
- Richard Allen, A Closer Listen

Call me a old fashioned, but I think the use of full names should be reserved for people who have assassinated a public figure (or at least attempted to), shot up a shopping mall, or some other batty shit like that. But I'm willing to give Colin Andrew Sheffield & James Eck Rippie a pass. After listening to "Essential Anatomies" I think we will all agree that they deserve it. Not because they create frantic, unhinged environments. They do just the opposite. And they do it very, very well.
Colin and James are far from strangers when it comes to collaboration. The two have been working together for over a decade, with output that includes a tape with the same title as this 48-minute gem, also released on Elevator Bath in back in 2016. This edition, recorded in Austin, Texas last year, appears to be sides 3 and 4 of what may be an ongoing series? I guess we will have to sit back and see how far they go. Processing digital and analog samples the duo lurches forward, crystallizing lucid impressions with distended, vexing ambiance. Like running your fingers through the shag carpet in Grandma's bedroom, James Eck Rippie's turntable sampling is chalky and thick. As snippets of sound pass, they leave behind dust and tiny strands of hair under your nails. You can almost smell the mothballs. The digital samples, which both members provide, are a fierce juxtaposition. An analogue for the digital would be more like the original appliances Grandma still has in her kitchen; Brightly colored, all orange and yellow, with indiscriminate hiss and clicks scattered about. The 1950s GE fridge runs loud, but sometimes slams off without notice, leaving a void that you didn't even notice was being filled until it passes. The second hand on the oven's clock still rotates, but it's warped metal rubs as it rounds the 12, flinging free into a vibrating, cosmic spring-out. All of this agitation melts together into an awesome sci-noir scene.
Colin Andrew Sheffield, who runs the Elevator Bath label (what exactly is an "elevator bath" by the way??) knows James Eck Rippie well. And James Eck Rippie knows Colin Andrew Sheffield well. And it shows. They play off each other's gnarly sample-contortions perfectly on volume 2 of "Essential Anatomies". My advice: Take one of those pastel mints out of Grandma's candy dish, place it on your tongue, push the button that reclines the old person chair, and enjoy the ride. Both sides stretch on for just under 25 minutes with no red lights or closed roads.
- Mike Haley, Tabs Out

Don't let the title confuse you, as it might be the same as the one back in Vital Weekly 1042, when this duo came back after a fourteen year hibernation. Back in Vital Weekly 316 I reviewed their 'Variations' LP and then 'Vessel' in Vital Weekly 359, after which nothing was heard of them as duo. Here again they have two side long pieces and sound sources are highly obscured here, but at one point in '4', on the B-side ('3' on the flip), it turns out that they use turntables along with electronics. And then, going back to the other side, one realizes that the chunks of music in there might also very well be lifted from vinyl. In their information they mentioned that their music is 'sculpt primarily with commercial recordings to turn aspects of plunderphonics and electronic sound art into a form of abstract beauty'. Which is not only what I would make of this but also their claim 'abstract beauty' is something I acknowledge. I am not the world's biggest lover of all things turntables, that should be no secret, but what Sheffield and Rippie do here I like very well. They take their turntable sounds apart, sample them again and stretch it out a bit and move them around. Sometimes it sounds like abstract electronic sounds (the start of '3'), or eerie orchestral passages in the best tradition of Arvo Part (middle of '4') and then like some roaring twenties Hollywood scratchy 78rpm; ranging from the chaos that surrounds a collection of dusty records, all the way up to having a clean, single drone piece of music and anything goes in between. Again, an excellent collaboration going on here.
- Frans de Waard, Vital Weekly