Düve – Blank Slate 005
It doesn’t feel like an overstatement to suggest that there’s a new sheriff in town. In a self-reliant and humbly delivered series of operations, Soren Jahan has snuck out a body of work that already amasses to one of the more vital furtherings of house and techno in recent times, and he’s done all this in the space of just two years. That’s not to suggest that he has taken that flood-the-market approach of flying out as many trite singles and half-baked albums as possible to trick some kind of experience; in fact his discography is really quite considered. One LP for his own Supply imprint, a smattering of singles for the label under a few aliases and the occasional appearance on sister venture Blank Slate, but each of these releases is loaded with the kind of head-turning intent and conception that reignites one’s passion for 4/4 electronic music.
As René Audiard, his Pechorin LP was a masterful update of dub techno mantras that injected some energy into a decidedly tired template, managing the tricky feat of actually leaping out at you even from the briefest of listens. Here though we’re more concerned with his latest venture, Düve, which pits Jahan alongside Ali Cakir to create a thoroughly mystical abstraction of techno that owes more to eastern folk traditions than it does to westernised machine music.
“Karv” leads the charge with a tumultuous rumble of percussion from rattling timbales and djambes over understated electronic beats, while a raucous whirl of Indian flute (possibly an Alghoza) freewheels over the top. What strikes most is the perfect harmony between the mechanized elements and the organic ones, as some of the structures and forms of techno steer the instrumentation without ever restraining it with the kind of lazy sample looping that can cheapen the soul of such sound sources. As such you end up with a positively danceable and psychologically thrilling track with the kind of transportative qualities that evade so much overfamiliar dance music.
“Woman” is a more tender offering, featuring John Evangelista who presumably provides the alluring plucked strings at the centre of the piece. There is still a wealth of percussive embellishment and exotic sampling going on in the background, but it’s kept at a tempered level so as to let the lead motifs ring out undisturbed.
“Streets” meanwhile takes no such prisoners, upping the ante in clamouring sound collages with a fearsome array of drums and flute, occasionally letting the processing shine through with some wilful sample chopping to add to the fevered atmosphere bouncing around the walls of the track. It’s so evocative a piece that it plunges you into the midst of an imagined street party, as voices dart past you in the mix and the many players gleefully bounce their impenetrable racket around you. It may not be for the faint-hearted but there’s an addictive energy bristling in every heated moment of the track.
As something of a palate cleanser after all those rich offerings, “660” moves away from the hand-played charms and turns out something more in keeping with the René Audiard output. A steady cyclical beat plays host to nine minutes of ranging, nebulous textures and drones that contort and growl their way through processing, given colour by a wash of melodic tone that hangs behind the work. It’s quite stark in its difference to the other three tracks, but makes for no less worthy an entry onto a record that damn near bowls you over with its imagination and vitality.
Oli Warwick
Tracklisting:
A1. Karv
A2. Woman (feat John Evangelista)
B1. Streets
B2. 660