Lots of electro around at the moment, and it can be difficult to maintain standards. Thankfully Larry’s are high and, while ‘Prince Moth Mothy Moth Moth’ goes slightly off the beaten track with a whimsical excursion into abstract dance, the remaining triumvirate all stalk more structured territory. ‘In My Restless Dreams’ is the spaciest of the three, with its Morse code staccato a foundation for a variety of swirling layers. ‘Celphine Cut’ is cut from similar cloth but is quicker and darker, whereas the emotive ‘Bias Point’ has the most depth and is the stand out track.
06 – His Eyes Forget the Avenue (Ciel’s 2 Become 1 Rmx)
Inspired by “. . . a life-changing LSD trip . . .”, ‘How To Change Your Mind’ has a wonderfully dreamy quality to it. There’s also a sense of progression throughout the release, from the delicate, playful sun kissed beats of ‘how To Change Your Mind, to the more zoned out, darker in tone ‘His Eyes Forget’. From then on in ‘Microdots’ uses tight, skittish breaks, while ‘Defrag’ tones things down, bittersweetly recalling the title track. ‘Avenue’ is a short ambient interlude, before Ciel’s masterful fusion of it and ‘His Eyes Forget’, which gives both tracks an extra dimension and is a sort of minimal psychedelic tribal thing. An excellent release, the proceeds of which are to be donated to the National Lawyers Guild (https://nlg.org/).
Blending into the break beat background, but with plenty to make it stand out, ‘Titan’ is a masterpiece of deadpan beats aligned with undulating sonics, which builds until it flat lines in an intense electronic embrace. ‘Day Of Reckoning’ is even better, turning up the euphoria count on account of its chiasmic keys caught in a symphonic slipstream.The Anthony Child remix of ‘Vertical Life’ starts off like The Velvet Underground’s ‘Heroin’, which is no bad thing. This transforms into a fragmented drone but the bittersweet jangling thankfully remains intact. The original of ‘Vertical Life’ couldn't be more different in approach, sounding like a fusion project from Compass Point Studios, but similar in its dreamily optimistic tone. It’s brilliant on every level is what I say.
It’s not everyone’s cup of tea and sometimes borders on cheese territory, but the booty shaking brand of electro that Detroit’s Filthiest push on the helpless masses is as vital as any other more rarified facet of the genre. Sirens, call and response and a banging bass are the three components that make ‘Hands Behind Your Back’ swing. All they’re doing is repeating what the cops have said to them countless times and, in these troubled times, with more resonance. ‘Undefeated’ is proto drum and bass with analogue squelches and is on a mission. ‘Hot Cheetos’ is a low riding funky ode to crisps (BrE), chips (AmE). It’s ridiculously good and deceptively sophisticated. ‘Blaxploitation’ plays with breaks and blends them with Philly soul to create a parallel world where Curtis Mayfield is DJing at an early seventies version of the Blue Note. ‘Dis N Dat’ relies on a tight synthetic syncopation to propel it, likewise ‘Let Em Burn’, but at a higher frequency. ‘Legend In The Hood’ is a minimal, cheek popping repetitive masterpiece, while ‘Late Night Soiree’ is a fragile, tropical, nighttime drive of a tune. Simplicity and authenticity reign on this release, which is why it’s so good.
Well this is nice . . . two original versions and complementary remixes. Yes. Excuse me while I extract some liquid refreshment from my antique 16th century globe and settle back into the days of future past. It doesn't do to postulate on track titles too much, but I can’t help knowing that ‘exterreri’ translates as ‘nightmare’, so I’m immediately drawn to concepts. The title track is great and carries a bittersweet menace along with it and the power to suggest that all is not quite as it seems. Datawave’s bass heavy acidicly twanging remix complements it very well. ‘Smooth Vibrato’ feels like a wayward journey through the portals of Hades, with Federico Leocata’s remix being less fluid, but more emphatic. It’s a record which you should give your attention to while having a strobe flickering nearby.
I’ve seen this release variously referred to as an ‘EP’ and an ‘LP’. In view of the amount of music on it, LP would be more logical I reckon. Anyway, pedantry aside this is a great collection of syncopated, sun-drenched funk ambience which effortlessly and concisely manages to show of the artist’s obvious talent. It’s also a record that sits nicely in amongst Apron’s canon of dreamy, laid back, jazz-inflected analogue improvisation, with this particular offering being possibly the most stream-of-consciousness of the lot. Some of the tracks are beats held together by the most tenuous of connections: ‘I Want To Go’. Some of them are living in ecosystems built around their own spontaneity: ‘Dr Ronbonik’, ‘Dr. Funk Yo Mind Faded’, others exist in a universe of wooz: ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’, ‘End Of Time’. The most danceable, meanwhile, ‘Lets Go (Sunshine)’, would give Ron Trent more than a run for his money. There are two bonus digital tracks which serve up more goodness, with ‘If Only She Knew’ being an object lesson in understated, Latin-inflected elegance. All in all, a concise evocation of rhythm and dance driven by a love of keys and handclaps.
Apart from having the year’s best track title in ‘multi-functional prosthetic hand’, and being intrigued by the fact that this release is accompanied by a “digitally printed large square scarf . . .” I’m wondering how to start. Sound is the focus of course, but how does that make it different to any other release? The accompanying press is full reference points, relevant or not. Ultimately there’s a strong feeling of both dislocation and fleeting familiarity while listening to the different compositions here. Listening from start to finish immerses one in a glistening, panoramic distillation of nuance, reaching an apotheosis of sorts in the aforementioned final piece, which attempts to weld together the sum total of its random electronic influences, including arcade gaming and hardcore, in one fell swoop. Prior to that we have ambient interludes in the shape of ‘My Broken Nails’ and ‘Foreign Body [D Version]’ which offer a taste of what is to come. ‘Appointment Scheduling’ in spite of its skittish tempo feels like an effort at coalescence, perhaps dropping a hint that the sonic journey undergone is one which likely involves dissipation before regeneration.
I guess that’s always been my problem. The geeks of this world are amongst the most focused people in it. However, while I can concentrate, I am all too easily distracted. This has been something that I have been conscious of for a long time, but only now am I trying to do something about it. I guess it’s the age-old problem of procrastination, only of the more perennial variety. In other words I have no problem working to deadlines, but I do let things slide long term. In other words I’m not out there go getting enough.
So I’m really thinking of starting a record label at the moment. Musical direction to an extent undecided, but on the other hand I have plenty of ideas. If I were to list my favourite labels it wouldn't be too difficult, there are loads depending on the day. However, some always make the cut: Mosaic, Ferox, Perlon, Svek and Underground Resistance to name five. It goes without saying that an all-encompassing label like Warp will always be there, as well as Axis and Red Planet. More recently Central Processing Unit, Craigie Knowes, Dolly, Shipwrec and Tici Taci have been consistently excellent and, coming from another perspective, Joule Imprint, Fake Society and Berg Audio. All of these imprints have strong identities and styles. Obvious I suppose, but the point is often missed. Anyway, so many good things out there already, it’s more difficult than ever to make an impression.
So how to stop procrastinating and get down to business? Buy a load of white inner sleeves, a stamp, some ink and settle on a direction. Now seems to be the worse time ever to embark on this sort of adventure. Is it necessary to even press vinyl anymore? There’s no way I would run a vinyl only label in the current climate. Plenty do this very well though. How long does it take to build up a following? How do you promote in the current climate? Is it ethical to run a limited edition label with no represses thus ensuring the sharks move in sooner rather than later? (As long as your product is desirable of course). What is the initial outlay? What are the risks? What is the direction? Should the label adopt a narrow but serious focus?
As usual I’ve been thinking about mixes and have once more realised that in spite of lockdown and all the time spent at home, I haven’t recorded a mix during that time. So next week I shall sort this out and get cracking. I have bought a few new records over the past four or five months so a process of distillation will begin. Not having done any mixes myself hasn't stopped me from listening to loads. One which I’ve ben returning to again and again recently is John Osborne’s ‘Breathecast 004’ which I don’t listen to from start to finish, but pick it up around half way when it turns into a rave. Once it picks up the pace it’s superb. It’s only a short one but manages to get so much across in so little time. More than anything though, I’m anxious to learn the names of some of the tracks. He said a few weeks ago that the track list would go up in a week, so it looks like I’ll have to be patient. Something which has given me a lot of mix listening time is walking and running. Ever since the beginning of lockdown I’ve walked or run at least five kilometers a day. At the moment I’m in a running break in order to give my legs a rest. Walking is better for listening to music anyway. You don’t contemplate as much when running, unless you’re not listening. Consequently, I mostly don't stick my airpods in when running as they interfere with meditation. I’m aware of how pretentious this all sounds, but what are we doing when running and not plugged in, unless it’s reflection? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. All of the Steve O’Sullivan Mosaic series of mixes are excellent and, if any sound could be said to be one that I live my life by, then it’s that. This is something which is extended and developed by the Romanian school of minimalism and on record, if not necessarily always behind the decks, by Ricardo Villalobos.
Having said that, his recent contribution to the Essential Mix with Raresh shows the Romanian’s influence more than his in my opinion. The Hilltown Disco collection is also interesting, but more in the electro direction that that of the elongated groove, and I suppose my perfect mix is one which combines the two approaches. And I said that not being nerdy enough is something that has possibly held me back. However, my approach to mixing and putting together a good set is forensic, at least when I’m doing one at home. I’ve always thought it necessary to build up from virtual scratch with the pitch set to zero. In other words it’s rare for me to crash into something at full momentum. This is in complete opposition to the way things often pan out when playing out unless you’re the warm up, or a beyond reproach headliner. Another extension of the groove is trance. Not as a genre but an adjective. This doesn’t mean that the bona fide records can’t be deployed, but sparingly I think. It obviously depends though innit? I was listening to this mix by Mr. Assister and I really like some of the sounds and tunes, but as a mix it gets a bit boring after a while. Of course the past trance being made at the moment isn’t trance at all. It’s chiasmic deep house with a stellar bent. Spaced out shit that contains multitudes. Going back to John Osborne again, I feel that this is one of his calling cards. Once things start rolling then we’re ready to add layers of momentum and groove. The challenge for me at least though, is to keep on returning to elements that have occurred earlier in the mix and allow them to be repeat motifs throughout its entirety. Repetition through stealth is a difficult trick to manage. The other side of all of this is the non-linear style that comes laden with bumps in the road, albeit with the ability to flatten them out. When I look at the waveform of one of my mixes there are always loads of fluctuations, and then I see one which looks like a solid rectangle. Does this imply a lack of variety? Not necessarily, although it probably points to a uniform intensity. Different angles in my opinion. So, still wrestling with the idea of doing a mix, and have decided to select records for it this evening, with a view to getting started on it early next week. The watch the floodgates open. Start it off broken and electro orientated, pick up the pace after the first 25%, keep it throbbing for the next 50%, and devolve into an eventual sonic essence for the final quarter. Like this post, really.
The most cross-pollinated sound around is currently enjoying a big renaissance. Breaks may be the main emphasis here, but it’s the sensurround sound of the rave which dominates in three singular sonic documents. ‘Top Buzz’ is as raucous as its name suggests it is: the raw sound of undiluted break beats with an MC shouting viscerally over the chaos . . . ‘Rubadub’ layers percussion on percussion to create a fluctuating cantilevered concerto . . .’Pocari Sweat’ is where it all comes together though. It’s a fuller and more depth charged tune which goes a step further than what has gone before and is the sound of disorder coalescing and getting the upper hand.
There’s so much of this stuff coming out at the moment it’s difficult to stand out. This release manages to do just that though. X-Altera is another pseudonym of Tadd Mullinix and while he uses this guise to deploy junglish tropes, it’s done in a way like no other. The three tunes are disembodied and fragmentary. Their abstractions, however, do have a sort of elastic cohesion. Forms solidify and melt away throughout. Both ‘Maximum (Love Eachother)’ and ‘New Harbinger’ allude to the presence of other dimensions through their constant entropic unpredictability. There is a randomness about them that would be sloppy in the wrong hands, whereas here it feels like genius. ‘Ribbon On A Bomb’ is perhaps the most “conventional” piece here, but of course it’s not really, it’s whirling, break beat core being a distraction from the more interesting disparate elements that fly around it. So good.
These two releases are coming out hot on each other’s heels so, given that they seem to be conceptually linked, it makes sense to check them together. Part 1 starts off momentously and drives inexorably forward deploying classic deep house tropes. There’s a smidgeon of wild pitch, a pervasive sense of garage and a motor city veneer to the pacier pieces here: ‘Night Caller (For The Midnight Talker)’, ‘Lately’, ‘Go’ ‘SPX3’ and ‘Psycho Dancer’ each show these characteristics in varying degrees, while ‘Dumplings’ and ‘Candi 101’ go down a similar path with break beats. The majority of the tracks are aimed squarely at the dance floor, but the lugubrious, abstractions of ‘Jaja Easy’ and to a lesser extent ‘Hold On (Signal 2 Signal Mix)’ are more introspective and inwardly expansive. He’s showing off a bit here is Mr. Curtis, and why not? This is a fine collection of tracks which, while the majority are definitely aimed at the temporary autonomous clubbing zone, should also function to their full potential under lockdown conditions.
Released digitally and on cassette, a format which I think suits it very well; ‘Strugglebus Vol. 1’ is a collection of dusty, analogue vignettes which, by being released at the end of August are unfortunately missing out on the chance to be the sound of the summer. No matter I suppose, as these mini modules of beat science sound equally suited to the twilight zone that makes its presence felt a couple of weeks before the kids go back to school and thoughts start turning towards seasonal change. These fulsome fragmentary facets are a voyage into a nostalgia – tinged netherworld while simultaneously shimmering with a sensitive solemnity very much in the mold of a transcendental transmission relayed by a mystical radio station. This is a charming collection of fuggy, melodic, mind music and I defy anyone not to be beguiled by it.
There’s nothing like a “rave whoop” to clear the Sunday morning cobwebs innit? Thankfully ‘Rage Signal’ comes correct with a variety of hardcore trope, among which the whoop is one. It’s a blast from the past which feels ahead of its time. What is refreshing about all of these tracks is their rawness and freshness. The flute in ‘Centurion’ takes me back to the essence of Depthcharge’s ‘Hando Jin’, which, while lacking woodwind, has a similar cultural slant. It’s on steroids here though: Don't Come Cryin’ features an incredibly crisp sub bass and ‘Jah’s Comin’’ is a great example of eliciting clarity from disparate heavy elements. Sophisticated and clever beyond measure, as well as great fun.
This split release is the result of a meeting between label boss Sync 24 and Anthony Rother at the Rex Club in Paris and seems to have been worked on from a distance. Clearly not a collaboration, but a meeting of minds, it’s focus is on the two lead tracks, while the others are, for want of a better expression, deconstructed back up. Both ‘Stellarator’ and ‘Hyperway’ are solid enough: the former a breezy, funky, fluctuating piece of full-bodied electro, the latter is a sharper, more urgent and more abrasive with a good amount of insect menace. Both the ‘Plasma Mix’ and the two loops purge some of their respective source’s highlights, and isolate them for mixing purposes. All in all though, I think this release is a missed opportunity and promised more.
