Lux Payllettes consists of circa 32 minutes of movie snippets that eRikM sampled and accurately processed, seaming tiny durations to achieve a density which rivals that of acclaimed purveyors of musique concrete. The shape of the composition might recall similar attempts, perhaps through the use of different sonic fonts; one can’t keep the mind away from brands like “sampladelia”, “turntablism” and – to quote just two names – John Oswald’s plunderphonics and Bob Ostertag’s fragmented obsessions. But while all of the above is (very vaguely) comparable in terms of method, this particular piece is unique as far as the power of reminiscence is concerned. Cinema experts – a category to which your reporter does not belong, for he’s a proud non-expert of anything discussable in a social context – will have no problem in locating memorable quotes and legendary themes, although the likelihood is that they’re going to disappear and/or get inexorably warped in the space of mere seconds. What transpires is the variety of moods that a film elicits in a viewer though the sounds which inhabit its plot. A sudden orchestral break, a shrieking woman, hysteric laughter or a sheer jingle are psychologically affecting elements when associated to the imagery. They also work well as isolated sonic shards if a clever assembler manages to extract their distressing (or touching) qualities, creating significant music in the meantime. In this case, the mission was adequately accomplished, the “repeat” button a valid option for a better penetration of the oeuvre’s spirit.