Live at Stand By
Rezzett with a blown-out session recorded at Harajuku earlier this year, dilating their ferric rave mutations into hypnotic, horizontal forms and dissociated noize vortexes. RIYL spannered tape music, Rat Heart & Michael J. Blood, Klein, Philip Jeck, screwed digital dancehall.
Lukid and Tapes have had a good year, pushing rhythmic breezeblocks into perma-damaged structures on April's 'Meant Like This' and offering their own hyper-saturated vision of jungle nostalgia on 'Boshly'. 'Live at Stand By' is a more asymmetric rinse thru their blurred aesthetic, lurching from Chicago house to digi dancehall, jungle, acid and Detroit techno, blotting each element into a mess of garbled tape noise. If 'Meant Like This' sounded like a duped TDK D90 copy of a duped copy of a copy, this one's a further few dupes down the line.
Split into two half-hour trips, 'Live At Stand By' snowballs across the continuum, picking up S950 vamps, hoover stabs, diva snatches and gumball thuds along the way. When it eventually melts into oozing machine funk, Rezzet reanimate with springy synths, delayed vox and warped arpeggios. The most satisfying moment comes when the duo dub the motion out of Tiger’s frenetic chat over loose rhythmic gloop and bleary-eyed pads.
But it's their knack for rallying club dynamics around concréte compositional techniques that impress most, ping-ponging through their source material with a frantic glee usually reserved for the most out-there experimental composers like Carl Stone or John Oswald. They bung everything thru a monaural meat grinder, pounding every element into miasmatic paste that's hugely enjoyable to listen to, even better for dancing.
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Rezzett with a blown-out session recorded at Harajuku earlier this year, dilating their ferric rave mutations into hypnotic, horizontal forms and dissociated noize vortexes. RIYL spannered tape music, Rat Heart & Michael J. Blood, Klein, Philip Jeck, screwed digital dancehall.
Lukid and Tapes have had a good year, pushing rhythmic breezeblocks into perma-damaged structures on April's 'Meant Like This' and offering their own hyper-saturated vision of jungle nostalgia on 'Boshly'. 'Live at Stand By' is a more asymmetric rinse thru their blurred aesthetic, lurching from Chicago house to digi dancehall, jungle, acid and Detroit techno, blotting each element into a mess of garbled tape noise. If 'Meant Like This' sounded like a duped TDK D90 copy of a duped copy of a copy, this one's a further few dupes down the line.
Split into two half-hour trips, 'Live At Stand By' snowballs across the continuum, picking up S950 vamps, hoover stabs, diva snatches and gumball thuds along the way. When it eventually melts into oozing machine funk, Rezzet reanimate with springy synths, delayed vox and warped arpeggios. The most satisfying moment comes when the duo dub the motion out of Tiger’s frenetic chat over loose rhythmic gloop and bleary-eyed pads.
But it's their knack for rallying club dynamics around concréte compositional techniques that impress most, ping-ponging through their source material with a frantic glee usually reserved for the most out-there experimental composers like Carl Stone or John Oswald. They bung everything thru a monaural meat grinder, pounding every element into miasmatic paste that's hugely enjoyable to listen to, even better for dancing.
Rezzett with a blown-out session recorded at Harajuku earlier this year, dilating their ferric rave mutations into hypnotic, horizontal forms and dissociated noize vortexes. RIYL spannered tape music, Rat Heart & Michael J. Blood, Klein, Philip Jeck, screwed digital dancehall.
Lukid and Tapes have had a good year, pushing rhythmic breezeblocks into perma-damaged structures on April's 'Meant Like This' and offering their own hyper-saturated vision of jungle nostalgia on 'Boshly'. 'Live at Stand By' is a more asymmetric rinse thru their blurred aesthetic, lurching from Chicago house to digi dancehall, jungle, acid and Detroit techno, blotting each element into a mess of garbled tape noise. If 'Meant Like This' sounded like a duped TDK D90 copy of a duped copy of a copy, this one's a further few dupes down the line.
Split into two half-hour trips, 'Live At Stand By' snowballs across the continuum, picking up S950 vamps, hoover stabs, diva snatches and gumball thuds along the way. When it eventually melts into oozing machine funk, Rezzet reanimate with springy synths, delayed vox and warped arpeggios. The most satisfying moment comes when the duo dub the motion out of Tiger’s frenetic chat over loose rhythmic gloop and bleary-eyed pads.
But it's their knack for rallying club dynamics around concréte compositional techniques that impress most, ping-ponging through their source material with a frantic glee usually reserved for the most out-there experimental composers like Carl Stone or John Oswald. They bung everything thru a monaural meat grinder, pounding every element into miasmatic paste that's hugely enjoyable to listen to, even better for dancing.
Rezzett with a blown-out session recorded at Harajuku earlier this year, dilating their ferric rave mutations into hypnotic, horizontal forms and dissociated noize vortexes. RIYL spannered tape music, Rat Heart & Michael J. Blood, Klein, Philip Jeck, screwed digital dancehall.
Lukid and Tapes have had a good year, pushing rhythmic breezeblocks into perma-damaged structures on April's 'Meant Like This' and offering their own hyper-saturated vision of jungle nostalgia on 'Boshly'. 'Live at Stand By' is a more asymmetric rinse thru their blurred aesthetic, lurching from Chicago house to digi dancehall, jungle, acid and Detroit techno, blotting each element into a mess of garbled tape noise. If 'Meant Like This' sounded like a duped TDK D90 copy of a duped copy of a copy, this one's a further few dupes down the line.
Split into two half-hour trips, 'Live At Stand By' snowballs across the continuum, picking up S950 vamps, hoover stabs, diva snatches and gumball thuds along the way. When it eventually melts into oozing machine funk, Rezzet reanimate with springy synths, delayed vox and warped arpeggios. The most satisfying moment comes when the duo dub the motion out of Tiger’s frenetic chat over loose rhythmic gloop and bleary-eyed pads.
But it's their knack for rallying club dynamics around concréte compositional techniques that impress most, ping-ponging through their source material with a frantic glee usually reserved for the most out-there experimental composers like Carl Stone or John Oswald. They bung everything thru a monaural meat grinder, pounding every element into miasmatic paste that's hugely enjoyable to listen to, even better for dancing.
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Rezzett with a blown-out session recorded at Harajuku earlier this year, dilating their ferric rave mutations into hypnotic, horizontal forms and dissociated noize vortexes. RIYL spannered tape music, Rat Heart & Michael J. Blood, Klein, Philip Jeck, screwed digital dancehall.
Lukid and Tapes have had a good year, pushing rhythmic breezeblocks into perma-damaged structures on April's 'Meant Like This' and offering their own hyper-saturated vision of jungle nostalgia on 'Boshly'. 'Live at Stand By' is a more asymmetric rinse thru their blurred aesthetic, lurching from Chicago house to digi dancehall, jungle, acid and Detroit techno, blotting each element into a mess of garbled tape noise. If 'Meant Like This' sounded like a duped TDK D90 copy of a duped copy of a copy, this one's a further few dupes down the line.
Split into two half-hour trips, 'Live At Stand By' snowballs across the continuum, picking up S950 vamps, hoover stabs, diva snatches and gumball thuds along the way. When it eventually melts into oozing machine funk, Rezzet reanimate with springy synths, delayed vox and warped arpeggios. The most satisfying moment comes when the duo dub the motion out of Tiger’s frenetic chat over loose rhythmic gloop and bleary-eyed pads.
But it's their knack for rallying club dynamics around concréte compositional techniques that impress most, ping-ponging through their source material with a frantic glee usually reserved for the most out-there experimental composers like Carl Stone or John Oswald. They bung everything thru a monaural meat grinder, pounding every element into miasmatic paste that's hugely enjoyable to listen to, even better for dancing.