The best new singles this week
The singles you need in your life this week
SINGLE OF THE WEEK
Akeyamasou – Seed EP (Makesense Records)
Sou Akeyama is a Japan-based producer working primarily with the Elektron Machinedrum and Monomachine as his weapons of choice. His glitchy, experimental sound marks a departure for French label Makesense, which has previously carried more minimal-oriented works from the likes of Vadim Svoboda, Cristi Cons and Dilated Pupils. There is a certain starkness to the sound Akeyama conjures on Seed EP, where angular pops and scuffs flit about in crisply defined space, but groove has been supplanted with the kind of dislocated funk you’d readily associate with post-00s Autechre.
Indeed, it’s hard to deny the similarities in sound between Akeyama’s rubbery, mutating synth hiccups and the alien language we first heard on albums like Confield. It makes sense when you consider the Elektron units have been part of the Autechre kit list at certain points in their career. While it might not land with the same shock as these sounds did 20 years ago, the approach and style is still radical enough to stand apart from so much contemporary music. Still, ‘Seed’ feels like an adept homage.
Elsewhere the style shifts in subtle ways to reveal more about Akeyama’s own approach. There’s still plenty of obtuse experimentation running through ‘n14’, but the overall build of the track is closer to deep cover, minimalist electro. ‘Fog’ uses bolder melodic strikes to counterpoint seasick acid flurries. The narrative is more frantic, scampering through DSP drum flex and taking abrupt turns at will. ‘i2’ cools things down with a backroom braindance confection which makes for a logical end to such high-functioning complexity.
While the influences are plain to hear, Seed EP boils down the head-melting electronica experience in a remarkably focused, compelling way. A whole album of this material might start to jade, but between the four tracks enough of Akeyama’s own personality comes through amidst his considerable skill programming two well-worn devices in the electronica studio canon.
OW
Altroy – Public Enemy (Minimalsoul)
Burbling techno legend TJ Hicks, aka. Altroy, is part of a welcome wave of relatively obscure artists getting back into the game of releasing new music, despite long hiatuses.
It’s a trend, but we’re particularly excited about this one. Active throughout the noughties and 90s, Hicks founded the Viennese label Minimalsoul after moving to the city from Harlem. While we don’t know much about when or why Hicks moved, it makes sense. Minimal techno didn’t really have as much of a New York base as Detroit or Berlin did. Meanwhile, Hicks’ US origins fostered a strong Trans-Atlantic feel for his label, inviting techno artists from all over North America to collaborate with and release alongside Europeans on an equal basis. Detroit pushers T-1000 and Terrence Dixon made regular contributions, all the while sharing contemporaneous release space with the likes Orlando Voorn and Syncmode.
Hicks’ own output is sparse, owing to his position as a label head first and producer second. But that doesn’t deny ‘Public Enemy’ – his first record in 7 odd years – as one of the most electrified and buzzing techno bits to hit our shelves in yonks. We don’t normally rate single-sided vinyl, but when the tracks are as cold as this, we make an exception. It’s as icy and overdriven as something K.U.D.O. or Stingray 313 would make… if their hard drives were chucked into a bottomless glacier hole dug for the express purpose of neutrino detection. Slingshot laser blasts dot across the track’s mix in 8th note timing, pitch and resonance endlessly twiddling across the sonic ice flo that is its ambient body. Midway through the track, the sound of a demented funfair seems to twizzle forcefully before our ears, blinding us with refractive force.
It’s the very sound that the UK is frightened of, despite being touted as the breeding ground for today’s electronic music avant garde. Icy, up-front, messy, and maddening.
JIJ
Johanna Knutsson – Dingsbums Homage (patience)
NYC label patience has a very specific MO in long form, two-sided records from ambience-oriented artists. Previous entries from a varied cast including Ekolali and John Carroll Kirby has at times nodded towards space rock, jazz and kosmische, but in the case of Johanna Knutsson it’s tricky to know what to expect. The Swedish artist emerged from a predominantly techno-oriented trajectory on labels like Klasse but she soon pivoted towards less dancefloor-oriented realms as evidenced on her Tollarp Transmissions album for Kontra-Musik. She’s since been closely linked to the Circle Of Live improv collective, entering that sphere of freeform electronic artists mastering their method to a point of near-infinite flexibility.
The two sides of this mini-album were conceived as one piece, but they sit comfortably as separate suites. The first, ‘Bernsteinsee’, glides through slow, plucked arps and vast sweeps of pad before taking in generously delayed touches of percussion. In the over-arching harmony and sense of progression it’s not a stretch to think of Tangerine Dream et al, but there’s also something more intimate about Knutsson’s composition. It’s more comfortable with lower ebbs rather than grandiose peaks.
‘Beilsteinerstrasse’ picks up logically from the same melodious point the A side left off at, but it soon heads in a different direction via a pronounced tempo shift and striking new arpeggio. It’s here that Knutsson opens up proceedings with some playful theremin-esque trills and other distinctive synth voices. At all times there’s a rigorous approach to harmonic compostion – everything stays beautifully in tune even as the stereo field fills up with parts.
Such is the way she’s approached Dingsbums Homage, the 35-minute run time of Knutsson’s entry into the patience repertoire glides by deceptively quickly. While it’s marked out with slight diversions into specific passages, for the most part it centres around two key themes which ebb and flow with a steady intent. Such is the charm of the composition and the shape of the sounds, there’s not a moment you wonder how much time has passed while idling in the piece.
OW
Pavement – Spit On A Stranger (Matador)
Despite the name, Pavement have never been pedestrian. For all their gushing, the Stockton indie rockers have always had an edge up on their own emotive style, thanks to the way they lend cryptic lyricism to lo-fi. And there’s a routine unwillingness to indulge in writing love songs to boot. ‘Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain’, for example, dealt in every theme from the unjust ‘importance’ of image in the music industry, to the hypocrisy of bands contemporaneous to them (cough, Smashing Pumpkins, cough).
The EP ‘Spit On A Stranger’ came out long after that breakout album, and was made in the run-up to the 23rd Anniversary edition of their fifth LP. And hot take: we think it’s even more lyrically engrossing than anything from ‘Crooked Rain’. Esoteric subject matters, again, run amok; we’ve got the subtexts of public aggression (‘Spit On A Stranger’), the pains of inherited privilege, or the lack of it (‘Folk Jam’), codependency (‘Harness Your Hopes’), the principle of not forcing (‘Roll With The Wind’) and the “divergent patterns” of attraction (‘The Porpoise & The Hand Grenade’). A sort of lunacy permeates the lyrics – especially on track four, wherein a porpoise nestled within a hand grenade is somehow taken for a symbol of innocence nestled within malicious intent.
There’s even an unheard live version of ‘Harness Your Hopes’, recorded live at Brixton Academy on the cusp on the millennium. “And it’s time to shake the rations ‘cause someone’s gonna cash in” rings especially true for those struggling with the intersection of enabler/narc relationships in 2022, just as strongly as it resounded in the O2 auditorium back in ‘99.
JIJ
Charles Webster ‘Decision Time’ (Dimensions Recordings)
Charles Webster’s recent reappearance in the vinyl racks is followed by an essential collection of remixes lifted from 2020’s hiatus busting ‘Decision Time’ LP. The Nottingham-based deep house veteran has effectively operated in a league of his own throughout his long and distinguished production career. With a cultured sound so deeply-rooted in US heritage, his profound, musical and nuanced work stands up proudly to that of the OG masters housed on the other side of the Atlantic. Indeed, as a fresh-faced selector devouring his releases, I incorrectly assumed he must surely be a Chicago native, thanks to the authenticity of his production.
Marking a near 20-year break from long-playing release activity, the ‘Decision Time’ album represented a slight departure from his trademark house sound – taking in, as it did, elements of soul, jazz, r&b and broken beat with unmissable guest appearances from the likes of Sia and Shara Nelson. The remix EP (of the same name) injects a degree or two of floor-focused bump, courtesy of the inspired selection of creators drafted in to lace the tracks with their respective artistic flair. First up, Dazzle Drums weaves irresistible rhythm into the haunting vocal gravity of ‘This Is Real’, with rush-inducing pads and hypnotic bass set over a percussion-rich Latin groove. The Jazuelle Retro Rhapsody of ‘Music’ sees dusty breaks propel soul-searing vocals and heart-wrenching strings for a journey into backroom euphoria, before Birmingham’s finest Mark E sees us into the B-side with his typically marvellous take on ‘The Spell’. Here, growling bass and ethereal pads elegantly collide over percussion embellished drums for a saucer-eyed journey into the deepest dancefloors as whispered vocals soothe weary souls. Finally, completing a scintillating EP, Swiss-Chilean maestro Luciano infuses ‘Music’ with his distinct late-night energy, morphing the track into a classy combination of heartfelt soul and heady club deviance. Supreme quality across the board, as one would expect from this ultra-talented lineup.
PC
Aaron ‘Fit’ Siegel delivers a futurist treat on his excellent Fit Sound label, resurrecting a quartet of tunes composed by Can Oral under his 4E moniker. Perhaps best known for his output produced as Khan, German-born Oral spent years living in NYC – having moved there to start a band with Jimi Tenor – and it was his East Village apartment number that lent its alpha-numeric name to the music he recorded for this project. Alongside Air Liquide’s Dr Walker and DJ DB from Smile Communications, Oral opened the Temple Records store in Manhattan. After hours, he spent his time crafting “futuristic electro” on his trusty hardware ensemble, which consisted of an SL-1200, TB-303, TR-808, and SH-101 among other now-legendary hardware gizmos. After a string of insalubrious events at the record shop, he decided to visit a TV fortune teller to help navigate the next step on his life’s journey. Her show was called Ask Isadora, and live on air the sage host advised Oral to move out, open his own store, and be independent. So, that’s what he did.
Named in honour of this auspicious episode, the music contained on the EP is plucked from his ’90s home studio sessions. The A-side tracks first appeared on the 1996 ‘Blue Note’ album released on Home Entertainment, while those included on the flip were hand-picked from an extensive archive of recordings from the same era before being carefully edited by FIT.
The title track erupts over jagged breaks and hard-hitting electro aesthetics, sounding incredibly sprightly for its age, the siren-filled music brims with nocturnal swagger as the arrangement bubbles and broods. ‘Conga Banana’ sees sub-heavy bass and vigorous synth snares marching through a stripped landscape of weirdo effects and hallucinatory swirls, again belying its date of birth thanks to the futurist flex on display.
On the reverse, Siegel’s retouch of ‘Middle Eastern Cooking’ is a kinetic dancefloor guarantee, with infectious rhythms powering growling acid bass as snare rolls add bounce to the undeniable groove. Finally, the ultra-wiggy topography of mode sees the EP out in psychedelic style, as otherworldly motifs skip over airy drums and sub-shaking bass. An evocative story exists within the music, and that the sound remains entirely relevant in today’s landscape speaks volumes of Oral’s ahead-of-his time artistic vision.
This week’s reviewers: Jude Iago James, Patrizio Cavaliere. Oli Warwick.
PC
Marc Roberts ‘Marc Roberts Edits’ (Moton)
Enduring purveyors of refined scalpel wizardry Moton Records drop in with the latest in their long-running catalogue of carefully sculpted edits. This instalment comes via Bali-based Pantai Person, Marc Roberts, who serves up four varied but soul-infused reworks that have been suitably road-tested via his tropical island base. Moton Records’ track record of dishing out high-grade edits predates the ongoing cut & paste proliferation that continues to fill disco, soul and funk release schedules. Launched by London dance heroes Dave Jarvis and Diesel back in 1996, the label is now on release number 46, having previously provided a home to music from mythical Balearic demigods like Harvey and Idjut Boys. Here, Roberts channels his decades-long experience – both behind the platters and as an organiser of world-class events – funnelling his club-hardened musical nous into a quartet of eminently workable cuts. ‘King Of Nice Days’ comes on like a soul juggernaut cascading over beefed-up percussive drums before launching into an explosion of Latin carnival abandon before ‘Uno’ goes all-out Balearic bliss with its atmospheric marimbas, soothing pads, and heartfelt vocal licks. On the reverse, ‘Maia Amor’ pitches string-laden Brazilian soul over slick disco drums, while closing track ‘Star Max’ continues the South American theme as heavenly vocals soar over glistening melodies and rousing chord progressions for a richly atmospheric swan song. More highly collectable tackle from the ever-reliable Moton massive.
PC
Kamazu ‘Indaba Kabani’ (Afro Synth)
Kamazu is on the receiving end of some typically chic Dimitri From Paris remix treatment here, as Afro Synth serve up a pair of the South African artist’s most sought after titles on a neat and tidy 12. Danny ‘Kamazu’ Malewa released a fairly sizeable stack of albums and singles throughout the ’80s and ’90s, and the recent attention that South Africa’s ‘bubblegum’ scene has garnered in recent times helped see his work find the ears of new and club-inclined audiences. On the A-side, French disco/house maestro Dimitri From Paris works his camp magic into feel-good 1991 track ‘Inaba Kabani’, carefully reframing the original for contemporary floors. The original bursts with dancefloor positivity, so Monsieur From Paris understandably adopts a light-handed approach – retaining the infectious vocal and power piano chords, splicing them over conga-infused drums over a dreamy club arrangement. B-side track ‘Mjukeit’ has received bags of attention from the current crop of global-facing selectors, making an appearance on Rush Hour Records’ ‘RSS Vol 3’ compilation and finding its way into a good many in-the-know setlists. It isn’t hard to hear why. Infectious call and response vocals soar over low-slung proto-house beats, as lively keys, throbbing bass and ragga style ad-libs cement the groove.
PC
Tammo Hesselink – Borrowed Wheels (Rear View Memory) Emerging from the increasingly mutant Dutch techno scene, Tammo Hesselink mints his own Rear View Memory label as an outlet for personal projects. He’s previously released on Nous’klaer Audio and appeared opposite Thessa Torsing (aka upsammy) on an experimental release featuring his soundtrack to pioneering 1924 film Ballet Mécanique. Although it’s relatively early days for the young producer, he’s already set out on a path where he could head in any number of experimental, unpredictable directions. His club sound tips towards broken, immersive techno, which comes through in impeccable form on Borrowed Wheels. Rather than being bound to a specific tempo, the slow-creeping ‘The Wheels He Borrowed’ emphasises crisp bell tones which chime through the centre of the mix, intoning an intense energy while the drums land with a relaxed, half-speed demeanour. Things are twitchier on ‘Former Tool’, which as its name implies sounds like a spartan percussion track given a shot in the arm to become a dynamic slice of rhythmic pressure that stands up on its own terms. His collaboration with DYL, ‘Prelude’, taps into the ever-swelling grey area where Autonomic D&B, techno and dubstep collide, calling to mind recent works by Konduku and others. It’s worth recognising the artists who embody a particular sound at any given moment, and Hesselink faithfully represents this current crop of refined, immersive club music. OW Bruno Pronsato – Symmetry & The Cops (Foom) Within the folds of the Berlin-centric minimal scene, Bruno Pronsato remains an especially creative voice. His sound has always skirted the dominant narrative of functional after party gear, executed with a subversive sparkle and subtlety which looks past the dogmatic rigour of the kick and hi-hat. His work with the Foom label has yielded some of his least traditional tracks to date, where post-punk influences have folded into his organically-toned constructions as a vessel for his deadpan US vocal impulses. However, last year’s Do It At Your Funeral LP for Perlon found him exploring more experimental textures, and conversely this new single on Foom has more direct approach. Even if there are more strident rhythms to latch onto, Pronsato’s style is still left of centre. ‘Sheila’s Chic’ is discoid in its build, but shot through with a ghostly attitude. The main melodic hook of ‘Count The Days’ is a distant, off-key riff. Still, the drums on the latter especially bite with purpose, giving DJs something solid to grip if they want to slip Pronsato’s slippery style into a set. ‘I Scene Freaks’ nods to a repeated interest in cascading bell tones which cropped up on the Perlon album, but it’s tethered to a more linear groove here. It’s the title track where the more experimental end of Pronsato’s songwriting comes through in line with prior Foom releases, hovering in suspended animation with textural murmurs and a simple drum machine tick as a frame for his unique voice. PC KALTBLUME / YA / CARAVEL / DAHLIA – Fighting In Ostkreuz (Deestricted) Schranz, rave and hard dance are sonically oppressive sounds. Paradoxically, though, they’re some of the most effective musical styles by which we can escape actual oppression. It’s music best blasted at apocalyptic protest raves or palace-stormings. Fire with fire. That in mind, the name of German label Deestricted encapsulates this idea well. Reclaiming and truncating ideas of ‘restriction’, their music is ‘de-estricted’, upending our associations between rigid dance music and homogeneity. With the label emerging between the walls of Berlin’s late Griessmühle venue – a concrete-slabbed, modern-utopic lot that formerly overlooked a canal, yet succumbed to the encroaching tides of gentrification in the city – it’s clear to us that every angle and inch of their ethos exists in opposition to the norm. Their latest sonic manifesto comes in the form of ‘Fighting For Ostkreuz’, a masterful exercise in experimental hard dance buggery sourced from four friends and affiliates. The name refers to Ostkreuz station, situated in East Berlin, and which serves as an important connecting node for the region. Dragged kicks and detuned rave sirens plod and stutter on Kaltblume’s ‘Close Call’, which sounds like the sonic equivalent of teetering on the edge of a cliff, post-extraterrestrial nuclear blast. It seems to say; before you demolish our train station, we’ll demolish you! YÅ’s ‘The Lost Decade’, meanwhile, mourns for a golden era, as hard trance is lent a softer, half-remembered yet no less hard hitting edge. CARAVEL makes her wax debut on the B-side, ’Mirror Of Judgment’, by way of carnivalesque crosstick bounces and sudden maddening drops. Parisian visitor Dahlia, finally, rounds things off with a demonic closer, ‘Sins Made Of Black’, which sounds like what would happen if Berlin ended up engulfed in grey goo. Shockingly well-produced, this is proof that industrial techno can be DIY yet still take a resolute stand. JIJ
