Artist: Burnt Friedman Title: Bokoboko Label: Nonplace Genre: Mellifluous haze of taps, hits, drums and knocks Format: 2xLP, Digital
There are those artists out there, in the field of electronic music as much as any other, who flatly refuse to make things straight forward. A good example of this would be Sutekh, who a friend once described as being “slippery”. This word applies well to those true auteurs who refuse to fit moulds and follow trends, with back catalogues that tend to confound and befuddle rather than comfort. Burnt Friedman is almost certainly one of these “slippery” artists, and he’s back once again to grease your gears with his particular strain of musicianship.
If there is one hallmark of Friedman’s sound, it’s the organic, resonating quality imbued in his sound sources. Clearly a man who celebrates the recording process, over the years his palette has moved through all kinds of traditional instruments, reaching to ever more obscure or customised means of generating hits, scrapes, tones, echoes and hums. On Bokoboko, his particular (but not exclusive) fascination is purportedly with steel drums, oil barrels and other such metallic percussion.
It doesn’t take long to grasp that from the intricate layers of chiming hits, exquisitely arranged with such fluid motion as to sound utterly natural when it is clearly a methodical and considered process of creation. While the notions may be quite avant-garde, the real triumph of the music is its immediacy. There’s no need to set aside five listens before you “get it”; this is simply engaging and satisfying music with graceful arcs of composition that happen to employ a dazzling array of tools to express with. “Sendou” typifies this beautifully, as separate segments of percussion meld with gentle steel drum hits in a staggered beat while steadily rising strings build into an elegant crescendo of harmony and rhythm.
There is a point where these reams of interlocking taps, hits, drums and knocks merge into one mellifluous haze. Perhaps the constraints of specific source material make it difficult to escape such trappings, but upon closer inspection each track has its own unique depths to reveal. There’s an atypical airiness to album closer “Memai”, which breathes bold lungfuls of drones in and out over a relatively focused beat, and yet you could imagine the component parts being interchangeable between tracks. Really it’s the natural hum that orbits every shred of detail in Friedman’s music that makes it so warm and comforting to listen to, where many of his contemporaries are somewhat icy in their demeanour. Slippery though he may be, there’s little to stop you from catching hold of Bokoboko and sinking your teeth in.
Oli Warwick
Tracklisting:
1. Uzu
2. Deku No Bo
3. Sendou
4. Totan Yane
5. Tom Tom Keppo
6. Mura
7. Bokoboko
8. Rimuse 3
9. Memai
Artist: Porter Ricks Title: Biokinetics Label: Type Genre: Seminal dub techno Format: Blue vinyl 2xLP, CD, Digital
It’s amazing how the passage of time clouds memories and judgment. Biokinetics was originally released on Basic Channel sub-label Chain Reaction back in 1996 and was the first long player on that imprint. Chain Reaction, like its mother label, is viewed as the originator for dub techno, yet as Thomas Koner and Andy Mellwig’s debut as Porter Ricks long-player reminds us, its expression and impact were much wider than that. It explains why the decision by ambient/experimental label Type to reissue this album is an unsurprising one and its reappearance serves as a reminder why sixteen years later, Biokinetics still resonates.
This is not the place to look if you are merely after a series of scuffled, hissing dubby techno tracks - although “Nautical Nuba” will briefly satisfy this demand with its dense off-beats. Rather Biokinetics sounds like a blueprint for many of the electronic music narratives that flowed as a result of these sources. The gentle ambience of “Port Gentil”, where textured sounds ebb and flow against a lazy rhythm, could be the basis for Type’s own output or even the wide-eyed innocence of Border Community, while at the other end of the spectrum the steam-rolling rhythms and grinding bass on “Port Of Call” point to subsequent releases by Shitkatapult and T.Raumschmiere.
In between these polar opposites are the beginnings of other significant styles; the skeletal rhythms and shaking percussion on “Port Of Nuba” acts as a precursor for early noughties minimalism, particularly the more abrasive forms as practised by Farben, while the abstract, stop-start arrangement at the centre of “Biokinetics 1″ sounds uncannily like a draft for the current tendency towards abstract techno. And aside from these caprcies there is also the chugging, shimmering grooves of “Nautical Dub” and “Nautical Zone”. Lighter and clearly less contrived than what followed in their wake, they complete a framework that was copied countlessly but never equalled.
Richard Brophy
Tracklisting:
1. Port Gentil
2. Nautical Dub
3. Biokinetics 1
4. Biokinetics 2
5. Port Of Call
6. Port Of Nuba
7. Nautical Nuba
8. Nautical Zone
Artist: Various Title: Voguing & The House Ballroom Scene Of New York City 1976-96 Label: Soul Jazz Genre: Disco, House Format: 2 x Gatefold Double LP, 3xCD + booklet, Book
On the face of it, New York’s ballroom and voguing scene is possibly not the most obvious inspiration for the deluxe Soul Jazz compilation treatment. As a movement, it was an integral part of NYC’s LGBT scene in the 1980s, rising to international prominence in 1990 with the release of Madonna’s “Vogue”, the pop queen’s slightly cynical tribute to the dance and house ballroom community. Yet musically, it was never a fixed thing, reflecting instead the sounds that dominated NYC’s gay club scene over two decades. The music was an important part of the culture, of course, but it was not the be all and end all.
The scene’s roots lie in the Harlem ballrooms of the 1960s and 70s, where groups of gay, bisexual and transgender individuals would gather together in “houses” – basically groups of like-minded individuals watched over by a “house mother” (often a drag queen or transgender individual) or “house father” – and compete in dancing competitions. The dance of choice was voguing – an angular dance that featured poses inspired by the models featured in the pages of Vogue magazine. The scene’s obsession with the glamour of high-end fashion was often reflected in the name of the “houses”; many took their moniker from the name of a famous designer.
By the time Madonna was turned onto voguing by scene stalwart Xtravaganza (father of the “House of Xtravaganza”) at Sound Factory in 1990, the ballroom scene was already well established. Its 1970s roots can clearly be seen in the high number of glamorous disco cuts featured on this deluxe, three-disc retrospective. Both Salsoul Orchestra’s “Love Break” and MFSB’s thrilling “Love Is The Message” (as remixed by Tom Moulton, whose version is arguably one of the definitive records of the disco era) became scene staples; so much so, in fact, that elements of both featured heavily in later voguing-inspired records (Madonna’s “Vogue”, for starters, but also Malcolm McLaren’s 1989 cut “Deep In Vogue”). Here, many other voguing disco staples are included, too, including well-known cuts by Cheryl Lynn, Inner Life and Diana Ross.
As house music began to take hold of New York City’s clubs in the late 1980s, so the ballroom soundtrack changed. First, it was the likes of McLaren’s “Deep In Vogue”, Nitro Deluxe’s brilliant “This Brutal House”, the Spanish Fly version of Raze’s landmark “Break For Love” and Junior Vasquez’s “Just Like A Queen” (released under the Ellis-D pseudonym).
Later, it was the tribal house preferred at clubs such as the Sound Factory that dominated the scene. It’s perhaps this side of the “ballroom” sound that hits hardest here. Certainly, there’s a brutal, masculine, angular feel to tracks such as Masters At Work’s “The Ha Dance”, Rageous Projecting Kevin Aviance’s “Cunty” and Junior Vasquez’s typically robust “X”. See also 2 Bodys’ “Body Drill” and Armand Van Helden’s voodoo anthem “The Witch Doctor”.
Vasquez himself proved to be something of a focal point in the scene’s later years (or at least those covered here). It’s perhaps fitting, then, that the third disc features a mix from the man himself. This writer was a touch disappointed with the actual mix, to be honest, but it puts the tracks in context and offers an insight into what a pure ballroom soundtrack may have sounded like sometime around 1992.
Really, the truly exceptional highlight of this package is Soul Jazz’s detailed sleeve notes in the accompanying booklet. As ever, these offer a true history – with pictures, more of which can be found in a separate book (well worth a look) – and put the music into some kind of context. Musically, it’s a fascinating compilation – admittedly stacked high with tracks many disco and househeads will already own – but it’s this extra material that makes Voguing And The House Ballroom Scene of New York City a very worthy retrospective indeed.
Artist: Blondes Title: Blondes Label: RVNG Intl Genre: Hypnotic electronic psychedelia & assorted remixes Format: 2 x CD, Digital
This debut eponymously titled set from Brooklyn duo Blondes is not a typical album by any means; depending on how much time you invest in the release schedule of RVNG Intl, it’s likely you will approach Blondes with varying degrees of familiarity.
Less an album, more a collection of Blondes productions at their hypnotic best, the majority of Blondes is formed from a series of three loudly pressed twelve inches released intermittently throughout the course of 2011 which deal with themes of duality. However, given that these records were released in only limited physical quantities and largely sold out soon after release, the majority of people who will be buying Blondes are likely to have only been exposed to the intoxicating, widescreen excursions through sounds and emotions in the form of DJ mixes – be it podcasts or physically in clubs – or during performances from Blondes themselves.
It could be argued that hearing Blondes on a twelve inch cut loud at 45prm by Berlin based mastering experts Dubplates & Mastering is the ideal way to soak in all the details of a Blondes production. However there is a delicious sensation to offering yourself up completely, and letting all eight tracks consume your senses on an infinite loop. Furthermore, the thematic nature of the tracks has always been loose at best and there’s never a feeling that the tracks next to each other jar at your membranes.
The aforementioned “Lover” is the starting point for the album and still retains the capacity to captivate that it did to this writer upon 12” release early last year. Along with “Hater”, its conceptual counterpart, “Lover” demonstrated with devastating effect how Blondes had developed on the promise shown on their 2010 EP Touched. Listen to “Lover” and marvel at how the somewhat linear nature of their production onthat release for Merok had been replaced, even consumed, by a gloriously thick and unpredictable approach. There’s a massive thrill to the way a well chosen, tribalistic snatch of Meredith Monk’s “Rally” battles for the majority of the seven minutes with a perma billowing array of euphoric textures. It’s still totally jaw dropping after dozens of listens so the prospect of hearing it with virgin ears is a wholly envious one.
RVNG Intl boss Matt Werth revealed that Blondes and the label had agreed on the idea of the series after hearing just those first two tracks, and the chance to listen to all eight in chronological order does reveal a nice, gradual change in pace and mood by the time the sombre tones of “Gold” and “Amber” arrive – the latter fizzing, beatless excursion seems a fitting way to end such a twisting rhythmic journey. These tracks are reward enough for those who’ve willingly followed and documented the Blondes musical journey throughout 2011, offering two further thematic explorations from the duo.
It has been the collection of accompanying remixes that has given this writer most joy however, and the ten artists involved are near perfect choices to tease out new musical directions from the source material. They also demonstrate the obvious close bond between artist and label, with the remixers chosen in tandem by Blondes, RVNG and artist managers This Is Music and described by Werth as feeling “like a family affair on paper and in the air.” It’s an illustrious collection sandwiching well known but well chosen producers such as JD Twitch, Traxx and John Roberts between delightful curveballs in Andy Stott and Dungeon Acid and close allies like Teengirl Fantasy and Laurel Halo. This varied approach pays off tenfold, with a stunningly diverse array of remixes that variously borrow and discard elements of the source material with equal aplomb.
Given how much influence the music of Andy Stott has exerted on the ears of the Juno Plus editorial in the past twelve months any attempts to listen to the remix CD in the order laid out were gleefully discarded to immerse fully in the Modern Love producer’s take on “Pleasure”. The resultant remix proves to be just as deliciously good as you’d hope, with mere strands of the source material struggling to escape the all encompassing claustrophobia of Stott’s highly corroded, densely packed production that constantly threatens to collapse under its own weight. Those glorious final few seconds towards where a snatch of Blondes breaks free before falling into the chasm of nothingness should illicit the willingness to immediately seek out the “repeat” button in all.
This is by no means the only highlight of the remix CD however, and those seeking material more appropriate for the communal space of the sweaty dancefloor will delight in the efforts from JD Twitch, Dungeon Acid, Bicep and SFV Acid. It’s the lesser heralded Irish duo Bicep who perhaps succeed most, turning the gently building “Water” on its head and twisting it inside out into a heavily tape saturated ode to how they are increasingly spending their weekends; dictating the rhythmic movements of limb and muscle with the soul grasping euphoria of a remix deftly lifted by a well placed vocal sample.
Amidst the sweat drenched cacophony of these moments there are gentler, but no less impressive or immersive remixes – see Teengirl Fantasy’s all too short rendition of “Wine”, which breaks down all the original’s shuddering elements to focus on one particular, heavenly refrain. Furthermore, the recent R&S signees surround it in an expansive, warm, gloopy gloss, demonstrated best by the gently glowering piano refrain that appears midway. And then there is the final act, Rene Hell of Type Records perfectly chosen to reinterpret the crackling soundscapes of “Amber” as a heart wrenching orchestral piece which is nothing less than stunning.
Tony Poland
Tracklisting:
Disc 1
1. Lover
2. Hater
3. Business
4. Pleasure
5. Wine
6. Water
7. Gold
8. Amber
Disc 2
1. Lover (A JD Twitch Optimo Mix)
2. Lover (Dungeon Acid Remix)
3. Hater (SFV Acid’s Encino Oaks Remix)
4. Business (John Roberts Remix)
5. Pleasure (Andy Stott Remix)
6. Wine (Teengirl Fantasy Remix)
7. Water (Bicep Remix)
8. Gold (One Blonde Strange Idea by Traxx)
9. Gold (Laurel Halo Chains Remix)
10. Amber (Variation in Cm by Rene Hell)
Artist: John Talabot Title: ƒin Label: Permanent Vacation Genre: House Format: Digital, 2xLP, CD
It’s a mark of the quality of John Talabot’s productions that they spark debate, not least between journalists and the producer himself. Ever since the first tracks started trickling out of his Barcelona studio in 2009, he has proved a master at producing the sort of rich, deep, melody-driven house that transcends dancefloors. Listen to his definitive single Matilda’s Dream, for example, or his contributions to Permanent Vacation’s superb If This Is House, I Want My Money Back series, and you almost forget they’ve been designed to make people dance.
And here lies the crux of the gentle stand off between Talabot and music critics. They say his music is sublime, summery, shimmering, soulful even. He says it’s dark, brooding and, on occasions, intense and the seasonal description was dismissed by Talabot himself during his keynote talk with Gerd Janson at last year’s Red Bull Music Academy, pointing out the name of his label, Hivern, is in fact the Catalan phrase for winter. Furthermore, in an interview elsewhere on these pages last autumn, he reiterated his opinion, promising that his recently completed debut album, ƒin, was “dark”. He also conceded that he had “no idea what people will think of it”.
To this writer’s ears ƒin is not an album shrouded in sonic darkness to the extent of a Blackest Ever Black release, but you can understand Talabot’s thinking, as there is a definite mood and atmosphere present throughout. Tracks such as “Oro E Sangre” and “El Oeste” are trademark Talabot breezy, melody driven productions, but these elements are defied by the underlying brooding intensity. For all the endorphin-releasing, swirling melodies and touchy-feely, retro-futurist grooves, there’s an uncomfortable edginess and melancholic depth that’s hard to ignore. Either way, there’s plenty of beauty to behold. At times, your heart will feel heavy and lovelorn; at others, it will sing.
Talabot has always been an impressive producer, but ƒin is easily his greatest creation to date. This could partly be attributed to his conscious decision to make it a “proper” album. While several of the tracks will no doubt end up getting plenty of club rotations, for the most part it’s designed to soundtrack hazy, late night listens from the comfort of the sofa. Even relatively uptempo concoctions such as the stumbling, woozy vocal cut “Journeys” – shoegazing house-tronica anyone? – seem designed more to enthrall headphone listeners than zoned-out dancers.
For the most part, ƒin is deeply rooted in house, yet it’s not a house album. In fact, it probably has more in common with IDM, electronica and new wave synth-pop than it does the productions of Kerri Chandler or Move D. It’s littered with quietly grandiose slo-mo and downbeat moments that recall the impossible-to-pigeonhole antics of Hyetal (circa the thrilling “Broadcast” set), Sepalcure and Instra:mental. Of course, it doesn’t particularly sound like any of those, but at times Talabot takes a similar sonic approach (see the spiraling chords and shuffling beats of “Last Land”, or the twisted vocal cut-ups of “Estiu”).
The album’s standout moment is its triumphant conclusion, “So Will Be Now”. The second of two collaborations on the album with fellow Hivern and Permanent Vacation artist Pional, it could well be an early contender for track of the year. Weighing in somewhere between deep acid house, future garage and blissful IDM, it features a distinctive, twisted vocal sample with echoes of Joy Orbison’s early work. Quietly building throughout, “So Will Be Now” is almost so beautiful it hurts. As the pitched-down vocal muses, “I hear a tender rhapsody”. It’s a fitting summary of a wonderful album.
Matt Anniss
Tracklisting:
1. Depak Ine
2. Destiny feat. Pional
3. El Oeste
4. Oro y Sangre
5. Journeys feat. Ekhi
6. Missing You
7. Last Land
8. Estiu
9. When The Past Was Present
10 H.O.R.S.E.
11. So Will Be Now… feat. Pional
Artist: Delta Funktionen/Various Title: Interia: Resisting Routine Label: Ann Aimee Genre: Techno Format: CD, Digital
The people who got to know Niels ‘Delta Funktionen’ Luinenberg through his ponderous Electromagnetic Radiation release or the adeptly programmed warm-up sets posted online may be surprised by the approach on Inertia. However, its direction could hardly be described as unexpected. The second volume of Electromagnetic Radiation and the grimy warehouse techno of Silhouette make perfectly clear that the Dutch DJ/producer likes to play it hard as well as deep. In that regard, Niels is not alone, and this mix, which consists solely of exclusive material, shows that a whole new wave of European techno producers is on the same wavelength.
The mixture of the musical and forceful is audible from the outset, with textured chords unfolding over an angular rhythm on Sascha Rydell’s “Rainy Days”, a few tracks later as Cosmin TRG does his best mid to late 90s Ian Pooley techno impersonation over a rolling, warm bass and midway through on Peter Van Hoesen’s “Last One at 1080”, where evocative but eerie pads build to the backdrop of a prowling groove.
In other instances, Luinenberg dispenses with the musical approach and focuses on pure rhythm tracks. From the bleeping austerity of Sawlin’s “Excipidial” to the grungy rumble of Ozka’’s “Square Beauty” through the punishing percussion of Marcelus’s “24/7” and the searing broken beats of Lucy and the militaristic stomp on Area Forty One’s “CNTCT”, much of Inertia is unflinchingly bleak but wholly captivating nonetheless. In case the listener forgot about the flipside, Niels drops spacey synths, which envelope the rolling, dub rhythm of “Torpor”. It’s a stunning finish to a mix that effortlessly balances the hard and the soulful.
Artist: Canyons Title: Keep Your Dreams Label: Modular Genre: Sleazy house jams, electronic pop Format: Gatefold LP, CD, Digital
Since decamping to Sydney from Perth and launching their own label, Hole In The Sky, Australian duo Canyons (aka Leo Thomson and Ryan Grieve) have put out a heady mixture of spacey, psychedelic disco-tinged house. Although their first releases (which included tracks under the pseudonyms Fred Cherry & The Templates) flew under the radar of most, they did not escape the attention of key tastemakers: the Canyons soon released 12”s on DFA and I’m A Cliché and were snapped up by Aussie indie dance giants Modular for an album deal. Their EP for DFA featured two captivating, sleazy house jams in “Fire Eyes” and “Dancing On Silk”, while “Blue Snakes” appeared on the same Moments Of A Crisis compilation on Cosmo Vitelli’s eagle eyed I’m A Cliché that debuted Azari & III’s now ubiquitous “Hungry (For The Power)”.
It became quickly apparent that the Canyons sound was a diverse one. Tracks like “Busride To The Zoo” and a remix of Tame Impala’s “Half Full Glass Of Wine” emerged from a dense haze of bong smoke, all low slung riffage and, in the case of the former, monkey shrieks; then there were quirky, upbeat moments like “More Champagne” and “Apples & Pears”; “Big City Lights” meanwhile showcased a penchant for starry-eyed downtempo excursions, while “Blue Snakes” was a raw, throbbing slice of techno that found its way onto Agoria’s 2011 Fabric mix. Indeed “Blue Snakes” is the only track that makes it onto their debut album, Keep Your Dreams, and by the time we reach it we’ve already heard a breathless opening two track segue (“Circadia” into “Under A Blue Sky”), a largely successful attempt at daytime radio-friendly/TV sports soundtrack material (“My Rescue”) and the brilliant, Mr Fingers-inspired “See Blind Through”, which features some drunkenly pitched down vocals from Ramona Gonzalez of Nite Jewel. Indeed on the first half of the album, it’s only the somewhat hit-and-miss electro pop of “Sun & Moon” that doesn’t live up to Ryan & Leo’s lofty standards, coming across as a bit too polished.
Two things become apparent as the album drifts towards its conclusion. First, the duo have not shied away from the challenge of working with a range of vocalists, and, second, they have fully indulged a predilection for squealing/smokey (delete where appropriate) saxophone solos. Of the vocal contributions, it’s Gonzalez’s unexpectedly treated effort and “Tonight”, featuring the unmistakable tones of Tame Impala frontman Kevin Parker, which shine brightest. Indeed it’s “Tonight”, with its shimmering guitars, sepia tinted vocals and groggy pop sensibility, existing at the lonely crossroads of commercial success and underground reverence, which provides the neatest summation of what the Canyons are all about.
Artist: D'Marc Cantu Title: Fallen Label: Creme Jak Genre: Jakbeat Format: Limited hand-numbered 2xLP + poster, Digital
If Traxx is Jakbeat’s front-man and Tadd ‘James T Cotton’ Mullinix its maverick genius, what role does D’Marc Cantu play? Unlike Traxx, he isn’t adept at providing controversial sound bites and, leaving aside his collaborations with both Mullinix and Traxx, he’s not as prolific as Mullinix, putting out just six solo EPs over the past five years.
But listening to Fallen, it is clear that Cantu embodies all of what Jak is about. There are eerie, synth-led grooves like “Transmogrification” and the title track, where the typical jacking approach is replaced by tumbling drums and hypnotic pulses. Then there are the more visceral jams like “Stand Up” and “Oh My”, which consist of solely of tonal bleeps and splurging, distorted basslines, the kind of aggressive workouts that feature in Traxx’s sets – albeit pushed up into the red.
In other places, Cantu returns to the genesis of Chicago house music, and some of the tracks have a basic, primal feeling. In particular, “I Want to Ride” and “Shoot the Fish” are built on not much more than a pulsing bass, tinny percussion and dank drums, but the end result is a powerful one, like Ron Hardy at his most freaked out.
But Cantu’s flirtations with the over-ground leave the most lasting impressions here. “The Power” is strangely catchy as a muffled vocal is fused with a gurgling acid line, “A New Night” has a gloriously reflective sense of melancholia and “Say It & It’s Time” sees Cantu fuse dramatic synth sweeps with a pulsing electro bassline. He may have been Jakbeat’s backroom boy, but Fallen casts him as its prince-in-waiting.
Richard Brophy
Tracklisting:
Side 1:
1. Transmogrification
2. Fallen
3. The Power
Side 2:
1. Stand Up
2. Oh My
Side 3:
1. A New Night
2. I Want To Ride
3. Shoot The Fish
When this collaborative long-player between two of dubstep’s most revered producers appeared almost completely out of nowhere on Honest Jon’s (who always take a particularly low key approach to promoting their releases), it felt like the world had been treated to the fruits of the best kept secret in the genre.
Pinch & Shackleton may only be nine tracks long, but it’s a meaty album; rather than offering a collection of single tracks aimed at the dance floor, the density of the tracks offered ensures they are meant to be absorbed together in one sitting, and, as you would expect from a collaborative album from this pair, the production and trickery on display is second to none. “Jellybones” for instance, utilises Eastern percussion held precariously aloft like spinning plates and manipulated to increasing degrees of mind-warping confusion. “Levitation” weaves furious African rhythms around sample stretching weirdness, and “Monks On The Rum” is a gripping exercise in tension, contrasting cut-glass percussion with a hesitant bass. However, this isn’t to say that the tracks are mere exercises in formalism; they’re also dramatically affecting, nowhere more so than on “Rooms Within A Room”. Following a brooding string intro, it weaves tight hi-hats around a sampled choir; the transition is initially quite jarring, but by the time the track has traversed its desert of bass, and the opening intro reprises itself at the end, you feel like you’ve experienced an event.
Although at times it may feel like Shackleton’s influence looms larger than that of Pinch, particularly with regards to rhythm, their mutual appreciation of musical scales outside of the Western tuning system that has been present in the output of both of their solo careers makes this collaboration an obvious and natural and fit, both in theory and in practice. “Burning Blood” is perhaps the best example, a track heralded by its North African flute; but rather than this shared interest, it feels like the success of the album lies in each producer understanding how to balance the characteristic elements of the other. Pinch’s characteristic bass heft for example, which may become overwhelming over the course of an album, rarely dominates; when it does appear (to greatest effect on “Burning Blood” and “Rooms Within A Room”) it helps to ground the album in a way that Shackleton’s fairly light-footed basslines can’t quite manage alone.
What could easily have been one to file under “nice idea, shame about the execution” is not only one of this year’s best dubstep albums, but some of the genre’s best to emerge since the demise of Shackleton and Appleblim’s Skull Disco label in 2008. In a landscape increasingly dominated by the sounds of genre hopping post-dubstep, it comes as a timely reminder of the dark spaces dubstep once inhabited.
Artist: Drexciya Title: Journey Of The Deep Sea Dweller I Label: Clone Classic Cuts Genre: Detroit techno, electro Format: CD
‘May you live in interesting times’ says the Chinese proverb, and to call the challenges posed by modern life interesting is a massive understatement. But can a collection of tracks that are over 15 years old provide the soundtrack for the ‘interesting’ times we live in?
By now, everyone who has had an interest in underground electronic music for a few years is familiar with the electro act Drexciya and the myths that surrounded them. James Stinson and Gerald Donald’s own myth-making was as advanced as the body of work they produced, and spawned a following that would struggle not to be called obsessive. Drexciya weren’t just a cult act; they were more like a cult that happened to make and release music.
From the near mythical status of its leaders, the shadowy Stinson and Donald - remember, they first ’surfaced’ in pre-internet times, which only added to their mystique – to the quasi-religious underwater, Atlantis references intertwined with black empowerment messages and the offshoot experiments, Drexciya still function as the de facto belief system for every electronic music nerd.
That debate and discourse still takes place online about their work, that some of their vinyl releases change hands for insane amounts of money and that Dutch label Clone have taken it upon themselves to re-release and re-master large tracts of their catalogue all point to the fact that Drexciya still command a high level of interest.
But is their music still relevant or is this compilation just another example of repackaging the past to make some money? To answer these questions, it is first necessary to go back 20 years in time. The early 90s were a time of change and upheaval, chaos and positivity, as the Eastern Bloc imploded and Europe exploded to the adrenaline rush of acid house.
In the US, Clinton’s election victory provided an end –albeit a superficial one in many regards – to the savage period of Reaganomics inflicted on cities like Detroit. It was against this sense of stillborn euphoria that acts like Drexciya, Underground Resistance and Jeff Mills – both Mills and Drexciya were members or affiliates of UR – appeared, bringing a militaristic sense and confrontational attitude to what had previously been a primal, sexually-charged music sound.
This aggressive approach is audible on “Seaquake”, which originally featured on Deep Sea Dweller, Drexciya’s 1992 debut for Shockwave, and which also pops up on Journey Of The Deep Sea Dweller. The raw anger and righteous fury is there right from the first few bars, as a discordant bass and pummeling 4/4 drums underpin distorted, coruscating riffs. It’s not radically dissimilar to the type of music that UR or Mills were releasing at the time, and in many ways it and the equally harsh “Darthouven Fish Men” – taken from 1995’s Journey Home EP on Warp – and the angular funk and punky vocals meet typewriter repetition percussion of “Take Your Mind” – from 1994’s Drexciya 4 – The Unknown Aquazone – could be seen as visceral responses to the miserable situation caused by Reaganism in Detroit. Lest anyone thinks this period has no bearing on the modern world, it should not be forgotten that the policies initiated in those times by Thatcher and Reagan led to the financial and economic chaos that we are now experiencing, decades later.
For that reason alone, Dweller says more about contemporary life than any modern-day release. In assessing Dweller’s relevance to modern times, we should not forget the views of Drexciyan affiliate Stingray, who said on his recent interview on Juno Plus that electronic music has to strive to disseminate a message and to communicate with its audience. There is no doubt that Drexciya always gave something to their listeners, and if it wasn’t anger at what they saw around them, it was the flipside emotion – humour, which is audible here.
While Drexciya probably aren’t the most obviously funny electronic music act, the androgynous vocal on “Bubble Metropolis” - taken from 1992’s Drexciya 2 - Bubble Metropolis – where visitors are welcomed to a new dimension as squelchy bass makes out with high-paced drums raises a smirk and the mock-serious “Rubick’s Cube” (from 1996’s The Return Of Drexciya on UR), where menacing synths and a sinister robo-vocal intones the title provides a daft prelude to Donald’s “Pornoactress” as Dopplereffekt.
The other reaction to the upheaval and exclusion that surrounded them was the creation of an alternative, virtual world. While much has been made of Drexciya’s release titles and the references to worlds unknown on their record inlays, it would be tempting to dismiss talk about unknown aqua zones and anti-vapor waves if they came from a lesser act or if they didn’t live by their own manifesto.
Indeed, it appears that Drexciya themselves felt it necessary to enter a parallel world to create their music. When this writer spoke to James Stinson a year before his death about Drexciya’s music-making and asked him what influenced it, the answer was that nothing did. Furthermore, Stinson added, they simply went into their studio, turned on their machines and jammed. This is the greatest strength of Journey Of The Deep Sea Dweller I: it contains so many magical moments that are derived from that unmistakable underworld.
From the sharp, shuffling 808s and fluid bass on “Wavejumper” (from 1995’s Aquatic Invasion), which pits seemingly incompatible eerie and abstract sounds with beautiful melodies; or “Hydro Theory” (from 1995’s Journey Home), which achieves a similarly spine-tingling juxtaposition as brooding sub-bass reveals bursts of cosmic synth bliss to “Lardossen Funk” and “Aquarazorda” (both from 1994’s Drexciya 4) where hushed melodies shimmer over rolling drums on the former and a mysterious synth coda is accompanied to menacing low-end depths on the latter, this collection shows that Drexciya made music that defines the times we live in.
Artist: Sweet Exorcist Title: RetroActivity Label: Warp Records Genre: Bleep Format: 2xCD, Digital
As the bleak 1980s turned to the hopeful 90s, a new sound was taking shape in a handful of shellshocked Yorkshire towns and cities. In makeshift bedroom studios in Bradford, Leeds and, most famously, Sheffield, young producers were crafting a sound that would announce the arrival of Warp Records and change British electronic music forever: bleep.
Although largely forgotten, bleep – sometimes referred to as “Yorkshire bleep and bass” – remains one of Britain’s most thrilling and eccentric musical developments. Personally, I would argue that it was the first example of a truly homegrown British style of dance music. Previously, British house and techno music had largely offered little not provided by the titans of Detroit, Chicago and New York. Even the most famous British house records of the era, for example “Voodoo Ray” or T-Coy’s 1987 Latin-themed “Carino”, sounded like they could have been made by Americans.
Bleep was like nothing the world had heard before. Alien, sub-heavy, otherworldly and unashamedly bassy, it sounded like the party-minded soundtrack to terminal industrial decline. The exact catalyst for this musical revolution remains a point of much discussion – not to mention inter-city rivalry between Leeds and Sheffield – but the genre’s unique aesthetics appear to have risen from the cross-pollination of dub soundsystem culture and contemporary electronic music in both cities’ underground clubs (most notably, perhaps, Occasions and Jive Turkey in Sheffield).
While Bradford natives Unique 3 started it all with their 1988 12” “Only The Beginning” and subsequent hit “The Theme” (1989), the record that would become the blueprint for an entire genre was Forgemasters’ “Track With No Name”. Partly produced by a Sheffield soundsystem builder and studio engineer called Rob Gordon, it sent shockwaves through clubs not just throughout Yorkshire, but worldwide. It also announced the arrival of a label that would become synonymous with bleep, Warp Records.
It wasn’t long before other Yorkshire DJs and producers began to make their own bleep records. There was LFO and Nightmares on Wax from Leeds, and Sheffield’s own supergroup, Sweet Exorcist. Arguably, it was the latter who left the greatest legacy in terms of authentic bleep productions, as RetroActivity, a long-overdue anthology of their productions, attests.
Sweet Exorcist had credentials. It was a collaboration between one of Sheffield’s most visionary and celebrated electronic producers, Cabaret Voltaire man Richard H Kirk, and Jive Turkey resident DJ Parrot (later of the All Seeing I, and soon to release new material on Classic). The fruits of the duo’s first studio session were dynamite: “Testone”. In many ways, the suite of “Test” tracks released in 1990 are the best remaining examples of bleep in its purest form. Raw, spooky, uncompromising and focused on the twin attractions of unfeasibly heavy sub-bass (provided by accidental bleep overlord Rob Gordon) and a simple but devastating melody, “Testone” through “Testsix (Toneapella)” remain powerful and unique dancefloor records. RetroActivity showcases them – alongside an early demo of of “Testone” minus its famous melody – in remastered form. It goes without saying that they sound fantastic.
But Sweet Exorcist didn’t stop there. Over the next year, they released a couple more 12” singles for Warp and an album, C.C.I.D. While the latter – included here in its entirety – largely featured 808-heavy house productions with the duo’s distinct bleep touch, it’s their techno productions that still bristle with clanking industrial intent. Check, for example, “Samba”, “Bonus Samba” or the various versions of the eerily dystopian “Clonk’s Coming”, which recast Xon’s “Midnight Express” (a lesser-known bleep-era collaboration between Kirk and Rob Gordon) as an uneasy fusion of star-gazing futurism and clattering industrial percussion. Whether the empty factories that then dominated Sheffield’s Wicker and Attercliffe districts were an inspiration is unknown; to these ears, at least, it certainly sounds that way.
RetroActivity is a fitting tribute to both Sweet Exorcist, whose star burned all too briefly, and bleep techno – a revolutionary genre whose stark, post-industrial narrative offers a uniquely British story to match that of Detroit’s earliest electronic pioneers. The Attercliffe Two doesn’t have quite the same ring as the Belleville Three, but Kirk and Parrot’s influence on British techno was almost as great.
Artist: Boo Williams Title: Home Town Chicago Label: Another Day Genre: House Format: 2xLP, CD, Digital
Albums don’t come much more house than this. Boo Williams is one of the less-celebrated second wave of Chicago artists, perhaps blighted by the explosion of DJ Sneak and Cajmere on the international radar. All the same, his repertoire stretches back to ’94, and in that time he’s amassed quite the catalogue of smooth, warm jams of a purist nature.
Home Town Chicagoin particular came early on in Boo’s career, and listening to it, in some ways it’s easy to see how he got passed over by many. There’s less of the blatant crowd-pleasing sampling and overtly party-starting composition that some of his contemporaries possessed, instead replaced by a dreamy, meditative mood that speaks more to the heart than the feet.
Don’t think that this is an album unsuitable for the club, because it really is just a collection of stompers rather than an overall artistic statement. “Devil Music”, for example doesn’t hold back with its nasty synth squelches and snare-baiting build up, but still the lush timbres prevail and create an esoteric vibe that would appeal to the more sensitive souls out there.
“Snare Tappin” is a tune that ably demonstrates just how on-point and far-sighted Boo really was when he crafted this album back in 1996. In the bumping groove and delayed key stabs, the micro-funk of mid-era Trapez releases can be felt; a pre-emptive echo of music that would come nearly ten years later.
While the music may be somewhat deep and meaningful, there’s no denying the heavy funk that Boo brings. Whether it’s the euphoric piano chimes of “Evil Ways” or the jerky grit of “Smokin’ Acid”, there’s plenty of evidence of just how much punch Home Town Chicago packs, even today.
The Brainfeeder bunch have had a mightily strong 2011, with major releases from the likes of Martyn, Samiyam and Thundercat, not to mention the curveball reissue of Mr Oizo’s Moustache (Half A Scissor). That lot sits on top of the ever-rising profile of Flying Lotus, The Gaslamp Killer et al, seemingly ubiquitous in every corner of the global electronica scene.
Teebs was swept up in the fervour of hype around the Californian cerebellum munchers as his Ardour album dropped last year. While his music made a perfect addition to the rag tag range of beats the label prides itself on, it didn’t seem to take hold with the fans as much as some of his contemporaries. Teebs’ is a more direct and gentle approach, not to say he ever plays it too safe, but the cavalcade of ideas across his debut album suffered the same fate as many similarly structured albums (lots of short sketch tracks); it was hard to lock onto his musical message and grow fond of the songs within.
Collections 01 makes for a relatively swift follow up, and addresses some of those pitfalls to make for a winsome, fully realised set of tracks that should be snaking their way into your heart very shortly. The vibe remains primarily dreamy, with gossamer beats deferring to a sumptuous, diverse range of melodic devices. A choice turn comes from the fairground organ of “Cook, Clean, Pay The Rent (New House Version)”, wonderfully fuzzy in its evocation of some imaginary seaside scene. Like all the best Brainfeeder output, the music on Collections 01 is best described in terms of visuals.
“Verbena Tea” adds an interesting dimension to the Teebs repertoire, drafting in the harp talents of Rebekah Raff to accompany an oriental-tinged, melancholic Sunday of a tune. What comes across most on the album as a whole, but particularly on this track and “Red Curbs Loop”, is the composition skills Teebs has, crafting accomplished harmonies where so many producers shelter behind the monotone of beats. Where playing the likes of Cosmogramma or Sam Baker’s Album can be a bit of a gamble depending on the mood you’re in, Teebs’ ably demonstrates the supple, amorphous nature of his craft, leaving you with an album you could happily slip into all manner of moments.
Artist: Oneohtrix Point Never Title: Replica Label: Software/Mexican Summer Genre: Electronica Format: Hand-numbered limited LP, CD, Digital
Following up last year’s Returnal was never going to be easy for Daniel Lopatin; it felt very much like a focused encapsulation of the sound that he had been developing over his early career rather than a significant step forward. Heavily reliant on arpeggios and synth drones emanating from his Roland Juno-60, his sound then was one that, although distinctive and utterly engrossing, was already perilously close to the edge of self-parody, something not helped by the waves of imitators that have followed in his wake.
Replica isn’t a total reinvention of Lopatin’s music, but it is a reinvention of the way he creates it. Using his Juno-60 as the backdrop for much of the tracks, he utilises audio culled from television advertisement compilations as the textural focus of many of the tracks, recomposing what would otherwise be quaint oddities as sweeping statements of emotion. “Power Of Persuasion” for example takes various piano loops and embeds them within a drawn out synth horn solo evoking Vangelis. It’s not totally different from his earlier work, but somehow, with that extra layer to filter his sound through, Lopatin’s emotionally ambiguous music is given an entirely new dimension.
As an album it’s much more rhythmically driven that previous material; “Sleep Dealer” takes a number of tiny loops including breathy sighs, a flute solo, and unidentifiable trilling and arranges them in a regular stop-start manner which recalls James Ferraro’s similar magpie-like approach to sampling, but without the garish, ADD nature of his creations. “Sleep Dealer” even has the rhythm and mood of the club buried within its stop-start structure, as does “Remember” with its soulful vocal loops trapped within its sludgy core.
Whilst “Up” goes so far as to include sampled percussion embedded within its swelling strings, the rhythmic effect is usually quite subtle; “Child Soldier” is a maelstrom of 8-bit video game sounds combined with vocal stabs and swooning pads. But whilst these strange rhythms are a key component of the album, they also create a weird feeling of inertia; loops skip like a broken record, preventing motion. Infinity has always been a core theme of Lopatin’s work but instead of the otherworldly drift of his previous work, Lopatin uses his equipment in a new way to create those show-stopping cinematic moments that were always his forte, by locking the listener into their own headspace.
The undoubted centrepiece and highlight of the album is “Replica”; much like the track at the core of his last LP, “Returnal”, which also gave the album its name, it stops you dead in your tracks. This synchronicity doesn’t seem like a coincidence; Lopatin is a master at punctuating his music with moments of drama. Coming out of the comparatively neutral “Remember” and going into the weightlessness of “Nassau”, its haunting piano sticks out like a sore thumb, but as much as infinity is central to his music, its relative scale is difficult to comprehend, and “Replica” offers an anchor point which breaks the album’s spell long enough to create an emotional wormhole into to his engrossing, complex sound.
Artist: Various Title: Amsterdam All Stars Label: Rush Hour Genre: House Format: 2xLP, CD, Digital
If Berlin is Europe’s hub for electronic music, Amsterdam is fast becoming the continent’s second city of dance. While those in London may argue otherwise – and Bristol can’t be too far behind given the high quality house and techno currently streaming from the sleepy West Country city – the case for the quiet Dutch city is compelling.
For starters, there’s the annual electronic music beano that is the popular Amsterdam Dance Event – a week of parties, seminars and illicit hob-nobbing get-togethers that attracts punters from all corners of the globe. Then there’s the music. Amsterdam has for a long time been something of a sleeping giant, more interested in banging trance and well-dressed big room electro-house than underground flavours. Yet in recent years, Amsterdam has become a hub for producers of high quality alternative house, techno and disco – young, up-and-coming talent with more passion for 808s and 909s than Ableton, gated synth riffs and silly haircuts.
This shift has a lot to do with Rush Hour, the record shop turned label turned vinyl distribution empire. While Rotterdam-based Clone should also take a lot of credit for the Dutch revival, it’s Rush Hour that’s put Amsterdam on the map. By casting their net wide and working with producers from Detroit and Chicago as well as their home city, they’ve fast become an international force with distinctly Dutch roots.
It’s fitting, then, that their latest compilation celebrates not vintage Chicago house or forgotten Detroit techno, but the Amsterdam scene in which they’ve played such a vital role in nurturing. Amsterdam All Stars showcases these hometown heroes, and as collections go it’s pretty darned impressive. From the off, the thing that stands out the most isn’t the quality – being Rush Hour, you’d expect very few duffers – but rather the variety. There’s no one dominant style that you could lazily call “the Amsterdam sound”, just tracks from producers forging their own path based on a myriad of dancefloor influences. But then Amsterdam has always been a global hub.
Highlights are plentiful. While there are some superb cuts from the big-names – check Dexter’s afro-acid jam “Zamba”, the jazz drums and deep house pulse of Tom Trago’s “Once Upon A Time In Amsterdam” or Neworldaquarium’s Rick Wilhite-esque “Liberty Hot” – it’s actually the lesser-known lights who really impress. Chief among these is Melon, whose retro-futurist house jam “Telephones” wouldn’t be out of place on 100% Silk. That said, the slo-mo jams provided by San Proper (whose dubby dusco opener “Caught Out You” sounds like a collaboration between the Idjut Boys and Matthew Kyle) and Awanto3 (the smackhouse head-nodder “Crappy Joyride”) are almost as good.
There are, of course, plenty of other delights – see Juju & Jordash’s Sheffield bleep influenced groover “Bleached Roots”, or the tropical beats and Detroit melodies of Young Marco’s “Hoodoo” – but it would take up far too much space to list them all. Suffice to say, Rush Hour have done a brilliant job in representing Amsterdam’s blossoming house and techno scene.
Artist: Gold Panda/ Various Title: DJ-Kicks Label: !K7 Records Genre: Hazy electronica Format: Mix CD, 2xLP, Digital
Coming from the same psychedelic headspace as Kieran Hebden and Caribou, Gold Panda has been busy making his pastoral 4/4 vision known to all and sundry. It seems like relatively early days for him to be enlisted for a DJ-Kicks compilation, but then people weren’t hugely familiar with the likes of Erlend Øye when he was drafted in. Besides, the important thing is the content within, and this mix sheds light on the myriad influences that feed into the Gold Panda sound.
What’s so striking about the tracklisting is its diversity, erring towards a more stripped-down, experimental kind of techno but ranging across Drexciya, SND, Zomby and Bok Bok, disparate elements in the electronic diaspora. Despite this erraticism, the flow of the mix is relatively smooth to begin with, keeping the tempo up, the beats solid and the melodies playful. It’s around the time that Christopher Rau’s “Do Little” comes in that the mix starts to drift. Jan Jelinek equally fluffs the vibe up with a soft and luxuriant take on micro house. While the tracks suit the natural, quirky feel of the mix as a whole, the hyper-micro house tangent they set the mix off on seems badly timed.
However it’s to his credit that Gold Panda manages to edge this lull into the whip-crack 2-step of 2562’s “Dinosaur” and have it make sense. However it’s just a foil for the careering path the remainder of the mix goes on, moving from avant-garde dubstep courtesy of Matthewdavid to the carefully crafted malfunctions of Brainiac. By the time the wall of chords in Giuseppe Ielasi’s “2″ hits you, it’s hard to remember where it all began. In that sense, Gold Panda has served up one of the most distinctive and daring DJ-Kicks compilations in a while.
At a time when classic-sounding techno is at a premium, Boris Bunnik aka Conforce is one of its main proponents, right? Wrong. It would be too easy and simplistic to dismiss the Dutch producer as merely revisiting the sounds that were current during the mid-90s, and Escapism, like his other releases for Clone, Rush Hour and Delsin, does much to dispel any pre-conceived notions about him. One of the common themes and sources of inspiration on the album is Bunnik’s love of swirling, ambient textures.
Spacey melodies unfold all the way through “Aquinas Control” as a dubby, rippling bass takes hold, while on the title track, glassy percussion and shuffling 808s provide the electro backing to Bunnik’s atmospheric chords. There are times too when it sounds like Conforce has completely immersed himself in electronic music’s reflective, esoteric side and the evoactive, shimmering synths of “Timelapse” could have been part of a long lost sci-fi soundtrack.
On other occasions, Escapism sounds earthy, grainy and twitchy, especially on the detuned textures of “Diversion” or “Revolt DX”, which sees Bunnik drop a gained, jarring rhythm track, and “Lonely Run”, centred on distorted sub-bass and metal-plated drums. However, the real highlights occur when Bunnik occupies a place where all of these sounds meet, like the ghostly pads and forceful bass of “Elude” or the hushed tones and uplifting synths of “Ominous”. It’s also where you’ll find this year’s most eloquent articulation of techno escapism.
The work of a Singaporean producer issued on a Berlin label run by an Italian, it’s fair to say that Sword is coming from the leftfield and doesn’t fit neatly into an ordained techno narrative. What Sword does achieve, however, is to shatter any of the perceptions that listeners may have had about Xhin’s work to date. There are only a few instances on the album where the producer and label’s trademark sound is audible, and even then, these exceptions do not follow the textbook Stroboscopic approach.
“Vent” sets out a dubby, tunnelling sound as electricity crackles and hisses in the background, but the tempo is more laid back than usual. At the other end of the spectrum is “Teeth”, a discordant techno swagger that induces quasi-psychedelic sensations and “You Against Yourself”, whose stripped back stomp and sheets of metallic riffing sound like Mike Dunn’s “Magic Feet” re-imagined for a digital age. But it’s Xhin’s compositional skills that are most impressive: drawing inspiration from horror movie soundtracks, “The Secret Closet” is a creepy, eerie opener, and it leads into the spindly, glitchy breakbeats of “Fox & Wolves” and then the plaintive piano lines of “Insides”.
Xhin has previously expressed a desire to follow in the footsteps of Yellow Magic Orchestra and Aphex and as Sword progresses, it becomes increasingly obvious that this is one of its main goals. “Foreshadowed” is a stepping rhythm weighed down with atmospheric chords and “Wood” is populated by lullaby-like hooks and sees him explore the melodic approach on “Insides” further. Best of all though is “This Is What You Drew While You Were Half Asleep”, which finally sees Xhin reach the beautiful dream-like state this unexpected album had hinted at.
Artist: King Midas Sound/ Various Title: Without You Label: Hyperdub Genre: Dub Format: CD, Digital
After the woozy dread of the King Midas Sound album Waiting For You, Kode 9 has assembled a sterling cast of producers to take the uneasy tones of the original tracks and refigure them to their own design. Remix compilations tend to suffer from being somewhat unfocused as the assembled identities jostle to get their creative point across, but here the remixers in many cases adopt the strong characteristics of the source material.
There are exceptions, such as when Flying Lotus dismembers “Lost” into a manic three-minute cauldron of bleeps and avant-garde hip-hop swagger. Likewise Gang Gang Dance manage to conjure up a delightfully bonkers and bouncy romp with the ideas set out by “Earth A Kill Ya”. Nite Jewel’s own take on “Lost” manages to straddle this concept with mournful synths that come from a very different place to the original, yet still striking the same emotional chord that makes the King Midas Sound version so haunting.
There’s also some notable revoices to be enjoyed, especially from the ever-blossoming Cooly G. Tackling “Spin Me Around”, she revives the same weighted romance with her own honey-coated delivery over a sparse and subtle rhythm. dBridge does a similar turn on “Without You”, as his tantalisingly taut track of bleak synths and heart-broken croons threatens to break into a mean drop at any moment, and yet never quite does.
Nothing can prepare you for the visceral assault of Ras G’s interpretation of “Cool Out”, which drowns the raw elements in manic blasts of electric fuzz. It’s quite unsettling but addictive at the same time. More than anything though, the album feels like a celebration of the original rather than of the artists, so strongly does the vibe of Waiting For You permeate through these wide-reaching styles. It’s testament to the curation of both projects that such disparate elements can sit so well together.
Artist: Kuedo Title: Severant Label: Planet Mu Genre: Electronica Format: LP, Cassette, CD, Digital
Amid an ever-swelling tide of praise and adulation well ahead of its release, Severant comes loaded with all kinds of expectations and curiosities to be answered. While this never does the music itself any favours, what is quite astounding is that within the two short minutes that host the first track, those expectations dissipate as effortlessly as they arrived.
Opener “Visioning Shared Tomorrows” is nothing if not celebratory, as a synthesiser fanfare rings out with all the mist and wonder that the unknown future may or may not hold. It sounds like a vague way to interpret the emotion held within a track, but it neatly sets the tone for where Severant will be heading over its duration; an opening theme if you will.
There’s no escaping the echoes of Vangelis and Tangerine Dream all over the tracks, because the synthesisers that hold centre stage at all times come straight from that school of laconic and melancholic warbles. However sources of inspiration fade to insignificance against the kind of heartfelt composition that has gone into Severant. “Whisper Fate” is achingly beautiful in its delicacy and progression, while “Scissors” transcends that point even more archly by re-employing the hook from Carly Simon’s heartbreak classic “Why?”
While the synths may be the stars of the shows, the beats are no slackers either. The drum machine hits are crisp and clean, but intricately arranged to add their own emotional weight where required. In one instance you may have a lean and simple half-step rhythm which then erupts in a manic flurry of hat triggering as on “Truth Flood”. Rather than serving any notion of groove, here percussion and rhythm are the tools with which Kuedo sculpts his grand story.
The sound sources remain consistent throughout, and in doing so create a cohesive feel to the album (an end Kuedo was definitely aiming for, as revealed in his interview with Juno Plus). Likewise, the generally short length of the tracks adds to the overall feel of a filmless score, as different incidentals of mood and feeling meld into one whole.
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