Boomkat Product Review:
Chrisman levels up significantly on this one, turning in 35 tracks (!) of hybrid club music that tangle together gqom, trap, dancehall, hardstyle, tarraxo, warehouse techno and amapiano. Properly light-headed, it's as psychedelic as Shackleton and as rugged and dancefloor-ready as Slikback. Featuring Aunty Rayzor, Ecko Bazz, MC Yallah and plenty of others from the Nyege/Hakuna Kulala crew.
'Dozage' is a massive record and represents a fruitful couple of years for the Congolese producer, who's been heading up the Nyege/HK studios in Kampala for a while now. Chrisman's last few releases have already highlighted his fascination with musical mutation, but here he takes everything a few steps further, throwing the kitchen sink at club formulae without a lick of cynicism. There are obvious hybridizations like 'Rap Gqom' (self explanatory, right?) and 'Noise Tarraxo', but go a little further into the vast tracklist and you'll find tracks that deviate off course with a wide-eyed earnestness that's frankly missing from so much dance music. 'Christoven' is a serious teeth-gnasher, starting as a wonky gqom redux with an acidic vocal from Congo Techno Ensemble's Papalas Palata and transforming into a prismatic, Göttsching-cum-Shackleton synth stew mid-way through.
And that's still only scratching the surface. Chrisman channels the caffeinated spirit of Gabber Modus Operandi and Raja Kirik on 'Sumatra', matching pneumatic hardstyle kicks with whirligig squeals and, most unexpectedly, a bendy drill-inspired bassline. He tries his hand at straighter drill on 'Flo$$', tweaking familiar hat patterns between Kampala rapper Blaq Bandana's restless rhymes, and adds a brutalist vocal drone to raging hard techno on 'Itika', disrupting the flow with swingy dembow clacks and chaotic computerized glitches. Pilled-up rave stabs usher us into 'Balisa', peeking over thudding, gabber-mangled kicks, gqom vocal chops and blown-out percussive chirps and whistles that sound as if they've been snatched from a recent São Paulo deployment.
Sometimes it's just the momentum he transposes, like on 'Shaaa', a dizzy spiral of ATL kicks and snares that's infused with the carbonated pressure of a Thunderdome tape, and skewed into the netherworld with snaking drones. He even manages this in reverse, taking a warehouse techno template on 'New Tech Vibe' and lending it the bounce and swing of gqom. Eerie trance synths and Chrisman's omnipresent off-kilter drones offer color, but it's the irregularity that keeps our attention locked in from beginning to end. Dance music has been screaming out for an album with this level of no-fucks-given cultural hotwashing - Chrisman delivers more than we're capable of absorbing in one sitting, so trust us when we tell you this is gonna be unraveled for aeons.