The Messenger
Bruising techno manoeuvres from Luke Slater in his Planetary Assault Systems guise, presenting his second full-length on Ostgut Ton. At this late stage in the game there's no doubt that Slater has become a master of his craft, and aside from a couple of nice ambient mood pieces (recalling his occasional 7th Plain project), The Messenger goes straight for the club jugular, and with style to spare. It's really rare to find a techno this sure of its own purpose, and while much of it explores the bleepy, acid-flecked terrain that folks like Hawtin and Slater himself stalked out in the 90s, the real prize is the smattering of super-heavy warehouse sh*t that arrives in the album's second half, a kind of minimalism so muscular that minimalism really feels like the wrong word: witness the strobing industrial assault of 'Rip The Cut' and the tracky Shed-esque number 'Black Tea'. Put simply this is just tremendously well produced techno, pure of heart and deadly effective.
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Bruising techno manoeuvres from Luke Slater in his Planetary Assault Systems guise, presenting his second full-length on Ostgut Ton. At this late stage in the game there's no doubt that Slater has become a master of his craft, and aside from a couple of nice ambient mood pieces (recalling his occasional 7th Plain project), The Messenger goes straight for the club jugular, and with style to spare. It's really rare to find a techno this sure of its own purpose, and while much of it explores the bleepy, acid-flecked terrain that folks like Hawtin and Slater himself stalked out in the 90s, the real prize is the smattering of super-heavy warehouse sh*t that arrives in the album's second half, a kind of minimalism so muscular that minimalism really feels like the wrong word: witness the strobing industrial assault of 'Rip The Cut' and the tracky Shed-esque number 'Black Tea'. Put simply this is just tremendously well produced techno, pure of heart and deadly effective.
Bruising techno manoeuvres from Luke Slater in his Planetary Assault Systems guise, presenting his second full-length on Ostgut Ton. At this late stage in the game there's no doubt that Slater has become a master of his craft, and aside from a couple of nice ambient mood pieces (recalling his occasional 7th Plain project), The Messenger goes straight for the club jugular, and with style to spare. It's really rare to find a techno this sure of its own purpose, and while much of it explores the bleepy, acid-flecked terrain that folks like Hawtin and Slater himself stalked out in the 90s, the real prize is the smattering of super-heavy warehouse sh*t that arrives in the album's second half, a kind of minimalism so muscular that minimalism really feels like the wrong word: witness the strobing industrial assault of 'Rip The Cut' and the tracky Shed-esque number 'Black Tea'. Put simply this is just tremendously well produced techno, pure of heart and deadly effective.
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Bruising techno manoeuvres from Luke Slater in his Planetary Assault Systems guise, presenting his second full-length on Ostgut Ton. At this late stage in the game there's no doubt that Slater has become a master of his craft, and aside from a couple of nice ambient mood pieces (recalling his occasional 7th Plain project), The Messenger goes straight for the club jugular, and with style to spare. It's really rare to find a techno this sure of its own purpose, and while much of it explores the bleepy, acid-flecked terrain that folks like Hawtin and Slater himself stalked out in the 90s, the real prize is the smattering of super-heavy warehouse sh*t that arrives in the album's second half, a kind of minimalism so muscular that minimalism really feels like the wrong word: witness the strobing industrial assault of 'Rip The Cut' and the tracky Shed-esque number 'Black Tea'. Put simply this is just tremendously well produced techno, pure of heart and deadly effective.