Mike Paradinas hails 30 years of his beloved project with a new album intended to reclaim the “D” for dance of IDM, which he and his label have been key in cultivating over the decades.
So often a dirty acronym in contemporary electronic music, “IDM”, or “Intelligent Dance Music”, was originally shorthand for music made by a group of artists inspired by, but detached from, the mostly Black and Latino innovators of club and electronic music’s urban epicentres. It’s too easy to get mired in semantics when talking about IDM, but basically the best of those artists, such as Ae, AFX, The Black Dog, Squarepusher, or µ-Ziq himself, would all happily acknowledge their debt to the groundbreaking works of Juan Atkins, Drexciya, 4Hero, A Guy Called Gerald and the ongoing influence of contemporary Afro-American and global south artists who continue to inspire them.
With his programming of Planet Mu, Mike Paradinas has arguably done more than pretty much anyone in his field to highlight and support cutting edge new movements such as Chicago footwork or Dutch-Surinamese bubbling, and hardcore ‘nuum musics - jungle, grime, and dubstep - to those without easy access to its hotspots, and for that we salute him. Just always a shame the term IDM has come to describe some of the worst, over-laboured and frankly funkless shite known to humankind.
On ‘Grush’ µ-Ziq makes no bones about his nerdy, pastoral feel for saturated melody and harmony, that are held in equal esteem to its rhythmic engines, which reinterpret, recycle and articulate aspects of jungle, footwork, and breakbeats with his own accent and bias. The leitmotif of bittersweet, curdled synth melody in his ‘Reticulum’ parts threads thru a set that manifests his unending love for the rush of early-mid ‘90s breakbeat hardcore rave in the helter skelter of ‘Hyper Daddy’, his nod to Remarc on the finessed choppage of ‘Manscape’, and a self-explanatory ‘Raver’, whilst serving the club with moody sidespins on juking footwork in ‘Windsor Safari Park’ and the psychoactive oddness of ‘Grush’, alongside more passable turns toward dippy, rose-tinted Braindance “fonk” elsewhere.
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Mike Paradinas hails 30 years of his beloved project with a new album intended to reclaim the “D” for dance of IDM, which he and his label have been key in cultivating over the decades.
So often a dirty acronym in contemporary electronic music, “IDM”, or “Intelligent Dance Music”, was originally shorthand for music made by a group of artists inspired by, but detached from, the mostly Black and Latino innovators of club and electronic music’s urban epicentres. It’s too easy to get mired in semantics when talking about IDM, but basically the best of those artists, such as Ae, AFX, The Black Dog, Squarepusher, or µ-Ziq himself, would all happily acknowledge their debt to the groundbreaking works of Juan Atkins, Drexciya, 4Hero, A Guy Called Gerald and the ongoing influence of contemporary Afro-American and global south artists who continue to inspire them.
With his programming of Planet Mu, Mike Paradinas has arguably done more than pretty much anyone in his field to highlight and support cutting edge new movements such as Chicago footwork or Dutch-Surinamese bubbling, and hardcore ‘nuum musics - jungle, grime, and dubstep - to those without easy access to its hotspots, and for that we salute him. Just always a shame the term IDM has come to describe some of the worst, over-laboured and frankly funkless shite known to humankind.
On ‘Grush’ µ-Ziq makes no bones about his nerdy, pastoral feel for saturated melody and harmony, that are held in equal esteem to its rhythmic engines, which reinterpret, recycle and articulate aspects of jungle, footwork, and breakbeats with his own accent and bias. The leitmotif of bittersweet, curdled synth melody in his ‘Reticulum’ parts threads thru a set that manifests his unending love for the rush of early-mid ‘90s breakbeat hardcore rave in the helter skelter of ‘Hyper Daddy’, his nod to Remarc on the finessed choppage of ‘Manscape’, and a self-explanatory ‘Raver’, whilst serving the club with moody sidespins on juking footwork in ‘Windsor Safari Park’ and the psychoactive oddness of ‘Grush’, alongside more passable turns toward dippy, rose-tinted Braindance “fonk” elsewhere.
Mike Paradinas hails 30 years of his beloved project with a new album intended to reclaim the “D” for dance of IDM, which he and his label have been key in cultivating over the decades.
So often a dirty acronym in contemporary electronic music, “IDM”, or “Intelligent Dance Music”, was originally shorthand for music made by a group of artists inspired by, but detached from, the mostly Black and Latino innovators of club and electronic music’s urban epicentres. It’s too easy to get mired in semantics when talking about IDM, but basically the best of those artists, such as Ae, AFX, The Black Dog, Squarepusher, or µ-Ziq himself, would all happily acknowledge their debt to the groundbreaking works of Juan Atkins, Drexciya, 4Hero, A Guy Called Gerald and the ongoing influence of contemporary Afro-American and global south artists who continue to inspire them.
With his programming of Planet Mu, Mike Paradinas has arguably done more than pretty much anyone in his field to highlight and support cutting edge new movements such as Chicago footwork or Dutch-Surinamese bubbling, and hardcore ‘nuum musics - jungle, grime, and dubstep - to those without easy access to its hotspots, and for that we salute him. Just always a shame the term IDM has come to describe some of the worst, over-laboured and frankly funkless shite known to humankind.
On ‘Grush’ µ-Ziq makes no bones about his nerdy, pastoral feel for saturated melody and harmony, that are held in equal esteem to its rhythmic engines, which reinterpret, recycle and articulate aspects of jungle, footwork, and breakbeats with his own accent and bias. The leitmotif of bittersweet, curdled synth melody in his ‘Reticulum’ parts threads thru a set that manifests his unending love for the rush of early-mid ‘90s breakbeat hardcore rave in the helter skelter of ‘Hyper Daddy’, his nod to Remarc on the finessed choppage of ‘Manscape’, and a self-explanatory ‘Raver’, whilst serving the club with moody sidespins on juking footwork in ‘Windsor Safari Park’ and the psychoactive oddness of ‘Grush’, alongside more passable turns toward dippy, rose-tinted Braindance “fonk” elsewhere.
Mike Paradinas hails 30 years of his beloved project with a new album intended to reclaim the “D” for dance of IDM, which he and his label have been key in cultivating over the decades.
So often a dirty acronym in contemporary electronic music, “IDM”, or “Intelligent Dance Music”, was originally shorthand for music made by a group of artists inspired by, but detached from, the mostly Black and Latino innovators of club and electronic music’s urban epicentres. It’s too easy to get mired in semantics when talking about IDM, but basically the best of those artists, such as Ae, AFX, The Black Dog, Squarepusher, or µ-Ziq himself, would all happily acknowledge their debt to the groundbreaking works of Juan Atkins, Drexciya, 4Hero, A Guy Called Gerald and the ongoing influence of contemporary Afro-American and global south artists who continue to inspire them.
With his programming of Planet Mu, Mike Paradinas has arguably done more than pretty much anyone in his field to highlight and support cutting edge new movements such as Chicago footwork or Dutch-Surinamese bubbling, and hardcore ‘nuum musics - jungle, grime, and dubstep - to those without easy access to its hotspots, and for that we salute him. Just always a shame the term IDM has come to describe some of the worst, over-laboured and frankly funkless shite known to humankind.
On ‘Grush’ µ-Ziq makes no bones about his nerdy, pastoral feel for saturated melody and harmony, that are held in equal esteem to its rhythmic engines, which reinterpret, recycle and articulate aspects of jungle, footwork, and breakbeats with his own accent and bias. The leitmotif of bittersweet, curdled synth melody in his ‘Reticulum’ parts threads thru a set that manifests his unending love for the rush of early-mid ‘90s breakbeat hardcore rave in the helter skelter of ‘Hyper Daddy’, his nod to Remarc on the finessed choppage of ‘Manscape’, and a self-explanatory ‘Raver’, whilst serving the club with moody sidespins on juking footwork in ‘Windsor Safari Park’ and the psychoactive oddness of ‘Grush’, alongside more passable turns toward dippy, rose-tinted Braindance “fonk” elsewhere.
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Mike Paradinas hails 30 years of his beloved project with a new album intended to reclaim the “D” for dance of IDM, which he and his label have been key in cultivating over the decades.
So often a dirty acronym in contemporary electronic music, “IDM”, or “Intelligent Dance Music”, was originally shorthand for music made by a group of artists inspired by, but detached from, the mostly Black and Latino innovators of club and electronic music’s urban epicentres. It’s too easy to get mired in semantics when talking about IDM, but basically the best of those artists, such as Ae, AFX, The Black Dog, Squarepusher, or µ-Ziq himself, would all happily acknowledge their debt to the groundbreaking works of Juan Atkins, Drexciya, 4Hero, A Guy Called Gerald and the ongoing influence of contemporary Afro-American and global south artists who continue to inspire them.
With his programming of Planet Mu, Mike Paradinas has arguably done more than pretty much anyone in his field to highlight and support cutting edge new movements such as Chicago footwork or Dutch-Surinamese bubbling, and hardcore ‘nuum musics - jungle, grime, and dubstep - to those without easy access to its hotspots, and for that we salute him. Just always a shame the term IDM has come to describe some of the worst, over-laboured and frankly funkless shite known to humankind.
On ‘Grush’ µ-Ziq makes no bones about his nerdy, pastoral feel for saturated melody and harmony, that are held in equal esteem to its rhythmic engines, which reinterpret, recycle and articulate aspects of jungle, footwork, and breakbeats with his own accent and bias. The leitmotif of bittersweet, curdled synth melody in his ‘Reticulum’ parts threads thru a set that manifests his unending love for the rush of early-mid ‘90s breakbeat hardcore rave in the helter skelter of ‘Hyper Daddy’, his nod to Remarc on the finessed choppage of ‘Manscape’, and a self-explanatory ‘Raver’, whilst serving the club with moody sidespins on juking footwork in ‘Windsor Safari Park’ and the psychoactive oddness of ‘Grush’, alongside more passable turns toward dippy, rose-tinted Braindance “fonk” elsewhere.