Fine shades of deft, rooted and astrally inclined dub techno from Poland’s Ziemia label, debuting with a handful of cuts by Earth Trax, Private Press, and Newborn Jr.
Private Press provides the lion’s share with three pieces of scudding chords, airy ambient touches and kinetic basslines recalling Vainqueur and Substance, while Earth Trax rolls solo on an effortless dub house skank, then in a sloshing acid-dub style with Newborn Jr. reminding us of Andreas Tilliander’s TM404 or a Donato Dozzy workout..
A cult star of the UK underground, Yeah You’s Elvin Brandhi strikes solo in stunning fashion with ’Shelf Life’ for C.A.N.V.A.S., hot on the heels of their wide-scoped ‘Cipher’ compilation.
Perhaps best known for her improvised rap/noise project Yeah You alongside her dad, Gwilly Edmondes, the artist known as Elvin Brandhi is a vital creative force to be reckoned with on ‘Shelf Life’, hacking and splicing frazzled electronics and her own voice into utterly singular, mutant designs that could hardly have come from anyone else.
There’s so much going on that we’re kinda lost for words and left reeling from it all. But if we allow our ears to defocus a little, structures begin to emerge from the chaos, kinda like a T-1000 flailing in molten meckle. Variously, we hear a wild flux of crushed flashcore rhythms a la Croww woven with free-metered vocals and Wanda Group-like gunk in ‘Empty Weeping’, while ‘REAP SOLACE’ recalls an Arca or Lotic piece twysted inside-out, gut spilling, before ‘I SAID IF’ runs roughshod with DJ Scud-style Yardcore and Merzbow-esque shards of electronic noise. And just as you think you’ve got a grip, ‘IMBRED WAILE-OCDC’ invest it all, setting blown-out percussion in acres of negative space with discombobulated pop vocals and blasts of dissonance, then ’Skype Warp’ closes the account cannily close to Klein with a burning but elusive, avant sense of soul.
Jaws will drop at the feet of this one. Highly recommended!
Barker, Synkro, Parra For Cuva, Roly Porter, DJ Tennis + Barratt, and Robag Wruhme rework Max Cooper’s tech-house-tronica
Barker turns in a thizzingly weightless remix of ‘Phi’; Synkro works ‘Rule 110’ on a mercurial slow/fast flex; ‘Hope’ becomes mellow, gaseous, folksy at the hands of Cologne’s Parra For Cuva. Erstwhile Vex’d member Roly Porter provides a brooding highlight with his power ambient diffusion of ‘Hope’; DJ Tennis + Barratt take ‘Reflex’ to the disco, and ‘Volition’ is sprinkled with Robag Wruhme’s cute and proggy electronica sensibilities.
New one from Majcester's Anz for Finn's 2 B Real Records...
"Dedicated to “the frontline soldiers who turn up to every rave, every time, all dancers from here and beyond, and to the boys who used to muscle me off the decks at house parties...."
Finally, Hospital Productions unveil the long awaited vinyl debut from the elusive Salford Electronics, backed with killer remixes by Ancient Methods and Vatican Shadow. Tipped if yr into Burial, Regis, Silent Servant...!
Plucked from right under our noses, Salford Electronics appears to be a handle for David Padbury, whose credits for industrial units such as Death Pact International and The Grey Wolves stretch back to the ‘80s. Under the SE mantle however, Padbury pursues a stealthy, menacing blend of industrial ambient, rolling techno and even Burial-esque 2-step that cannily resonates with styles you’ll hear any given weekend at Salford venue, The White Hotel - aka the best (and coldest) venue in the world right now.
The Salford Electronics sound is every bit as grim as its moniker implies. Opener ’Shadowfall’ conjures imagery of light dying over Salford’s jagged squarewave horizon of high-rises, Satanic mills and media citadels, before that atmosphere bleeds into the stark negative space and clenched techno tumult of ‘Deconstruction’, streaked with shortwave radio chatter and unheimliuch proclamation from the murk, only to end with a dry echo of Burial’s melancholic 2-step in ‘Breakdown’. And yes, we’re as surprised as you are.
Flipside, the effect is compounded by killer Ancient Methods and Vatican Shadow remixes. First spotted in his RA.645 mix, AM’s take on ‘Deconstruction’ is insanely dead-on but pendulous, driven with hungrier bass and whelmed with waves of biting point noise, while Vatican Shadow comes into his own with a tract of zombied, blank-eyed techno gloom.
Intensely warped electronic noise made at EMS studios by Swedish master Daniel Rozenhall; alternately dense/spacious sides looking deep into the mind of the machines...
Two blinding wormholers from Daniel Rozenhall on a super limited pressing bound to be sought-after by intrepid sound explorers. A close associate of Stockholm’s EMS studios and the Fylkingen venue at the heart of the city’s experimental music scene, Daniel Rozenhall has played a low-key but vital role in Sweden since his trio of albums for Firework Editions and Kning Disk, and the ‘Rozenhall’ compilation, between 2001-2009. Ten years later he now metes out the mind-bindingly dense and absorbing audness of ‘Den Förföljdes Gryning’, unfurling some of the most colourfully kaotic and amorphous sounds this side of Merzbow, Florian Hecker and Cam Deas - and we do not use those comparisons lightly!
Gifted with a remarkable taste or tolerance for high-strength hallucinogenic electronics, Rozenhall delivers two powerful tracts of unfathomably complex, polymetric slosh and scree riddled with amorphous, phantasmic apparitions set to trigger myriad, pareidolic perceptions. The first side is a glut of dissonant, alien squabble seemingly moving in every direction at once, somehow matching he crispness of Florian Hecker with the density of Masami Akita compositions in bewildering fashion, whereas the B-side inverts that complexity with a warped, elemental simplicity, allowing a single, oscillating synth figure to spiral out from low frequencies to high with a warped keen, recalling one of EVOL’s mentasm sculptures as much as Cam Deas in infinitely accelerating freefall or a creature that just crawled up the gullet of Organum.
No compromises. Rozenhall properly sees this one through.
Chris Clark's latest for Warp features 6 tracks of electronic wizardry starting with the mentalist 'The Gavel', an acidic dsp mash up that steams straight in with no introduction, cut up and timestretched madness commandeering the first minute, and gives you a taste of what's to follow. Imagine Atom heart jackin' Aphex's 'Cock 12' and your close to the intense programming and digital mess that kicks the ep off, some compliment! The break reveals some lush strings that lull you into a false sense of security, the gabba beats that drop in assault your senses and the strings become even more prominent as they creep behind the kicks, mentally ace. 'A. Council' is relentless, spurious cuts layered over some slick 303 acid and crazily panned drums, an intense percussive workout that reaps rewards with tight programing showcasing the skills of Mr Clark and his little boxes. Metallic drones creep under the distorted beats, with edits not dissimilar to RDJ's Windowlicker/Flowers period, all switching beats and staggered acid peppered with sonic effects and unrecognisable samples that create a mastardized collage of electronics, a frantic and wicked track. The lighter moments are quite lush, 'Frost Investigation' has a music box style instrument that sounds like it's been put through Matthew Herberts Lo Fi sampler, a small moment of respite within the maelstrom of electronic beats. But, save the best till last, 'Rob Lee' sticks with the acid Mr Clarke delivers so well, utilising some serious electro beats that back up a warm and emotional string section which seems almost at odds with the harsh beats and 303 madness, a flurry of editing and some gorgeous synth work all come together to wrap the ep up superbly, nice one fella.
It was hard to wriggle out of the Aphex niche that attached itself to him so insistantly after the release of his debut "Clarence Park" album for Warp, but "Empty The bones of You" is a bold step in an entirely otherworldy direction for the unquestionably talented Mr Clark. The 14 tracks take in many familiar electronic sights, but the production and agility displayed make for hugely rewarding listening. "Indigo Optimus" opens with a classic arrangement of glitch, found sounds, decimated loops and appregiated synths - headphone listening making room for a hugely impressive spectrum of low-end modulations and haphazard jerks that somehow fit together effortlessly. "Tyre" nods towards the Sati-esque tinkering of his mentor with a beautifuly evocative distant caress of the Piano, abruptly giving way to the crisp hip hop squash of "Toucan" in all its relentless glory. "Umbilical Hut" steals the show for us though, a suitably embrionic pitter patter of percussive feet and some mindblowing digital reconstruction, at once complex and charmingly simple in the finest electronic sense. This is an album that refuses to sink its teeth into one particular strand of the genre, instead displaying a hugely impressive skill with electronic production in all its moods and varied temperaments. An artist to pay close attention to.