Throne Of Blood
Cast an eye across the crème de la crème of new producers and DJs straining to poke their heads above the dance music melee that is 2012 and what do you see? It’s certainly a sprawling landscape – and one which appears to be almost drowning in a deluge of new sounds on a daily basis. There’s a rapidly expanding pool of producers, DJs and releases all shouting loudly – and, arguably, without saying much. It’s amid this aural backdrop that Movement, the second EP proper from young(ish) mop haired pup Daniel Avery, lands – and stands out like a refreshingly sore thumb. A surefooted use of analogue tools and heavy injections of machine-funk ensure it gracefully sidesteps much of the competition and finely straddles the tightrope between sounding suitably left and gloriously classic.
Having cut his teeth on the eclectic dancefloors of Blogger’s Delight and Adventures in the Beetroot Field, Avery’s rise has been via the Stopmakingme moniker, a title he jettisoned earlier in the year in favour of his real name. It may be as a DJ that his skills have garnered applause but it’s as a producer where his midas touch is currently pricking ears. The Movement EP is certainly his finest moment to date. Taking its name from his new Dalston club night (hosted in cahoots with long time ally, Turbo man Matt Walsh), the four tunes proffered are built to soundtrack churning nocturnal activity in cellars where dance floor trouble brews.
“Light Into Dark” is full of electronic up and downs, a drama occurring on a staircase wriggling with nefarious, mangled synths. Beeps and squeaks punctuate the rhythm like a robot dancing atop a burning car. “Flashlights” is equally as nimble-footed – it’s initially reminiscent of Balihu creator Daniel Wang’s work before growing electronic teeth and biting down hard amid the colourful vibrations. The EP’s title track is a much darker, squelching affair with an elastic heartbeat and a sampled vocal reverberating through its shadowy ribcage – Avery’s deft addition and subtraction of pressure points gives it a satisfyingly mucky throb.
Finally, and fittingly, it is Avery’s elder endorser Andrew Weatherall who lends a sleazy, dub soaked refix to the title track. Lord Sabre rams down the handbrake and serves up a version which shudders with a Factory Records-esque industrial clank. The bassline is slung lower than a waistline while the rest of the tune is dragged along the floor of Weatherall’s psychedelic dungeon – and sounds all the more dangerous for it. Take the EP as a whole and it’s not surprising that Lord Sabre’s sees Avery as his progeny. He’s making music cut from a similar cloth of funk and darkness. Keep your ears on him…
1. Light Into Dark
4. Movement (Andrew Weatherall remix)