Blackest Ever Black proudly parade Regis' figures for the label (and others) between 2010-2015, alongside a trio of unreleased, alternate versions and remixes for Tropic of Cancer and his own, teenaged synth-pop band Family Sex.
In effect, 'Manbait' documents thee most crucial maturation, augmentation and consolidation of British techno values in the last 20 years, drawing a sawtoothed line in the dirt between many disparate but mutual factions - '80s post punk and goth, industrial techno, D&B, dark ambient - in a way that no other producer has managed to execute with such unswerving guile and vision before or since.
We're talking decade-defining material such as his remix of Raime's 'This Foundary' (BLACKEST002), which arguably started a whole new movement upon release in 2010, and is here penned in with the murderous techno/D&B reduction, 'C U 1' as CUB, and the shearing metallic brutality of 'Blinding Horses', now revealed in multifarious mixes.
But of course you're here, so you probably know all that already. So what of the exclusives? Predictably they're sh*t hot too. For the fiends, his strapping EBM version of Family Sex's 'Manbait' is practically worth the entry alone (can't.bloody.wait to hear this on a rig), whilst the icily wipe-clean alternate version of 'Plant Lilies At My Head' makes me wanna jump out of a high window (in a good way?), and the Stableboy version of 'Blinding Horses' is a visceral mini masterclass in Black Country ambient misery/mystery.
It's totally f**king essential. You know the drill.
Mind-bending minimalist rhythm trips from Brooklyn’s Robert Lowe, coiling up on the Paris-based Latency Recordings in the wake of sublime excursions for Type and DDS and alongside Jóhann Jóhannsson, Adult and Ariel Kalma in recent years.
A deeply intoxicating session unfurls in both parts, pursuing the patiently nuanced logic of his prior releases into the beautifully melancholic, elliptical downstroke of Magnatite on the A-side, and what sounds like a blunted Villalobos lost in a mazy nitrous fantasy on the marvellous Heart Of Sogguth.
Coaxing waves of drip-off dissonant tang into an alternately acrid, aqueous flow with the meter of a water clock in orbit or a deep sea hydrothermal vent spewing pure minerals under unfathomable pressure, Magnetite beautifully owns our attention on the A-side and is primed to send post-party sessions or stone circle meditations into the absolute lushest freefall regression to primal states.
The B-side’s upstepping vectors therefore give a (perhaps necessary) second wind, picking up the pace to a 111bpm bump soaked in spring reverb and riddled with hiccuping voices that appear to originate in or at least resonate in the listener’s own trachea with a potent tang whilst the groove quietly knots us in sensually elastic loops.
They’re blinders, both of ‘em.
Exceptional hi-tech steppers and rollers from Paradon’t - the Black Forest-based duo of Florian Meyer (Don’t DJ) and Volker Weismann (Paraklang) - debuting with a distinctive take on experimental tribal techno for Disk, a new arm of the Diskant label. A very strong look for fans of Photek, Shackleton Pessimist, N.M.O., Cut Hands!
In hot pursuit of a polyrhythmic swerve that transcends techno, D&B, African tribal practice - all that good stuff - the Thrd Mpct EP delivers some of the sickest syncopation we’ve heard since Soul Jazz’s Voodoo Drums sets on both sides of this record.
Up top on Chunwangk Kyuh Hay (thru mpct) they unwind a venomous, reticulated roller coming off like Photek meets Optical at Shackleton’s hut - all wooden drums and noxious atmospheres pregnant with a lethal sense of dread designed to keep dancers well on their toes.
Down below, N Bun Kan Kan (bad rm) pushes farther into a noisy grey area with slithering, salty electronics setting a scratchy course for polymetric patterns pivoting off crisp woodblocks and shards of electronics, kinda like N.M.O. upping the ante for a fierce game of Kabaddi, then Gonyungk Wadt (mtrx) comes off like Marcus Schmickler rinsed out by Rashad Becker.
This is one mean platter, we’re telling ya!
Kosmische-toned techno momentum from Avalon Emerson
Following fluttering trajectories on One More Fluorescent Rush and rustling up some digital dust with the grubbing drums and squawking avian electronics of Finally Some Common Ground.