The best new albums this week
The albums at the top of the pile
Ataxia – Out Of Step (Life & Death)
There are no rules drawn up about what makes a record sound like it’s born out of Detroit culture. Some records have it, and some don’t. You might argue it’s a certain toughness, but it’s not tough in the same way as club music from New York. You might say it’s rooted in the bump – that touch of groove that edges up the funkiness of the track. Perhaps it’s in the soul of the music – the harmonic interplay or the message of the vocals communicating the story of the city. Sometimes there’s a coolness in the delivery which feels intrinsic to the city, not desperate to please or seek approval, just expressing on its own terms. Either way, Ataxia have pulled together enough of these qualities to make an album which absolutely sounds like Detroit.
The duo of Rickers and Ted Krisko have been plugging away in various corners of the tech house scene for some 10 years, moving between European and US labels while notching up some key spots on the likes of Planet E and KMS as well as collaborating with fellow Motor City alumni Norm Talley and getting remixed by Terence Parker for a 2017 acid tweak-out on Nervous Records. They have an established approach of sorts, but after these scattershot singles Out Of Step feels like a more rounded approach to the house and techno album. It’s an album predominantly defined by dancefloor tracks – chunky six-minute workouts for DJs to get busy with – but there is a sense everything was created with the larger whole in mind.
Considering it as a complete listening experience, it harks back to the 90s kind of dance music artist albums, where each track felt distinct from the others. Given the decades of producers rolling out a batch of 10 tracks ploughing the same furrow, it’s satisfying to hear the gears shift from cut to cut as we trip through Out Of Step. It makes for the kind of album where you could grow attached to particular favourites, skipping the CD back and forth to catch your jams. If that sounds a little nostalgic in the era of streaming and playlists, then it reflects the overall vibe of the album, which holds true to certain tenets of Midwestern club music and blasts them with pride.
As such, opening track ‘Detroit Gospel’ makes sense as a pumped-up techno workout with giddy synth lines up top, while ‘Pine Island’ slips into a slower house shuffle with local legend Andres on hand. That’s two tracks in, and already Out Of Step sounds like quintessential 313 gear. ‘Language’ might well be one of the highlights of the album, teasing some ghettotech flexing on the 808 and playing around with some off-key vocal samples, keeping dancers on their toes by dipping into some deliciously disorienting bass drops in the mid-section that might well derail the jit. DJ Minx is also on hand to help Rickers and Krisko work up a sweat at the trackier end of the Detroit house spectrum on ‘Maxia’. As opening salvos go, Ataxia map out a thoroughly convincing direction for their album as a celebration of their hometown’s music culture.
The pressure maintains throughout, dipping into taut electro, piston-pumping machine soul, and even swerving to a little breakbeat play on ‘Feels Like’ with Mister Joshooa. It’s one of the moments on the album that passes by a little less memorably due to its stripped down, rolling nature, but as a building block amongst this gut-busting 12-track compendium, it’s no bad thing to have a little breather from the wilder tracks. In penning their love letter to Detroit, it’s clear Ataxia couldn’t stop the tracks flowing, and Out Of Step feels astoundingly full-bodied top to bottom. It’s not dressed up in any grand schemes – just delivered with a no-nonsense sincerity which chimes perfectly with the fine tradition laid down before them.
OW
Mike Paradinas is never someone you should feel comfortable expecting things from. The Planet Mu boss, better known to most under his production alias, μ-Ziq, has made it his business to confound and avoid anything like conformity throughout a stellar and storied, decade-spanning career, both as the guy who ultimately decides what one of the finest and most refined electronic music labels on the planet puts out, and as a boundary-breaking artist in his own right. The sweetly titled Hello is just the latest case to prove this UK studio-maestro remains consistent in his unpredictable genius.
Having used up all the hyperbole it’s probably worth pointing out that μ-Ziq, and the whole Mu sonic world, are heavily rooted in IDM and the rave culture of thinkers, but such vague and broad descriptions are never going to land any fingers on any real points. Nevertheless, this record is a wonderful example of what we mean. Opening with the piano and halftime drum & bass-led ‘Hello’, this is dance floor business but it has so much in there so far from those norms it has barely even seen them for years.
Elsewhere, ‘Magic Pony Ride, Pt.3’ represents μ-Ziq exploring the cosmos with a staccato, mid-tempo arrangement that marries thinking sounds of space and all that might hide there with complex, snare-capped drum patterns to offer an acid house-inspired 140 dream you don’t want to wake up from. ‘Modulating Angels’ again takes things on a new trip, owing much to the steely chopped and cut percussion of pared-back Squarepusher jungle, doing away with almost everything but the beats and some trickling keys and haunting synth lines, with ‘Iggy’s Song’ also taking a lead from similar sources of inspiration. One hand on the hardcore eight pack, another rooting through sound designs of grand masters.
MH
Nueen – Diagrams Of Thought (Balmat)
Previously spotted floating through the bucolic pastures of Quiet Time and Good Morning, Mallorca-born artist Nueen moves from the cosy climes of cassette labels to an appearance on Balmat. With the previous releases from Luke Sanger, Hoavi and Patricia Wolf, this Spanish label has proven to be an instant must-check for anyone concerned with ear-catching ambient electronics. Rather than hyper-patient drone material, the Balmat focus tends to be on shapely, organic melodic patterns and tender sound design experiments, which is something Nueen instantly adheres to as Diagrams Of Thought eases to life.
There’s no one mode on the record, which makes it more pleasing to listen to as each piece marks out its own space. ‘Lev’ noticeably draws on the kind of Rompler-plucked bass thunk you’d commonly associate with peppy deep house, but it also underpins sparkling FM bell tones and wobbly ghost pads beautifully. When more outwardly ambient moments appear, as on the drifting expanse of ‘Vig Ase’, they sound more memorable in contrast to other paths Nueen chooses to explore. Even these slow drifting pads can be punctuated by an unexpected, isolated bass drop, just to keep things interesting.
‘Veta’ can be considered a slight disruption as its crunchy electro beats and warm, fluid bass cut a path into the middle of the mix, but they don’t sound out of joint with the album’s overall clarity. Nueen sounds free in his exploration of different approaches on Diagrams, which like other Balmat releases comes across as though it was thoughfully compiled from a rich pool of ideas.
OW
Decius – Decius Vol1 (The Leaf Label)
If, as the Manic Street Preachers once proclaimed, “All rock ‘n’ roll is homosexual”, then it can only be even more true of house music. Its roots in the gay nightlife of Chicago, its influence from the mid-80s hi-NRG productions of Bobby Orlando and Man Parrish, its all-welcoming ethos, they have all remained a central part of the music’s DNA. These days, of course, that influence is usually implicit – if you know, you know, if you don’t then it doesn’t matter too much. Which makes the arrival of Decius Vol1, which wears its LGBT+ credentials very much on its sleeve, all the more welcome and refreshing.
Decius compromises of brothers and Trashmouth Records founders Liam and Luke May, Quinn Whalley (Paranoid London/Warmduscher) and Fat White Family frontman Lias Saoudi, and those already smitten by the Paranoid London acid house bug will be delighted by the likes of ‘U Instead Of Thought’ with its classic Chicago drum machine rolls, the frisky disco bassline to ‘I Get OV’ or ‘Look Like A Man’s vocal hysteria and throbbing sequencers. It’s this combination of very current dancefloor firepower and spectacular vocals which hark back to an era of abandon that devotees of Sylvester and Patrick Cowley will recognise immediately. A heady mix indeed, which is just how this lot like it.
BW
The idea of Plaid’s 11th album – released un-coincidentally on 11/11/22 – being a recreation of a gig booking played in outer space raises two questions in this rather cynical journalist’s mind. Firstly, what are they smoking? And secondly, where can we get hold of some?
It might be more believable to assume that all of the Plaid (and Ed Handley and Andy Turner’s stint with The Black Dog) output had been recorded in such a way – it’s all very much out of this world and always has been. But their style has shifted slowly over the years, away from the early beat juggling of ‘Angry Dolphin’ to an altogether more home listening proposition. What Feorm Falorx indicates, however, is that with that shift they’ve not only managed to maintain their distinctive trademark sound but also become more communicative and direct.
‘Cwtchr’, for example, boasts a tumbling, off kilter beat but it never throws the listener off the scent, while ‘Return to Return’ dallies with the hitherto unexplored areas of high frequency with what sound like plucked violin arpeggios, underpinning them with hip-hop beats and gloopy bass. ‘Modenet’ is even more approachable, with a touch of Mike Paradinas-style melancholy about it, and the ‘Wondergan’ is a joyous steel pan workout that’s way more fun than so-called ‘intelligent techno’ was supposed to be.
The concept of becoming more accessible, especially with age, is something usually associated with watering down or reduction of some sort. Plaid seem to have been able to achieve it here without diluting their legacy in the slightest, if anything making it stronger. Good on them. We only wish we could have made the original gig.
BW
When dealing with artists like Tom Halstead and Joe Andrews it’s difficult to focus on criticism and not descend into potted histories. Having spent years blurring lines between all manner of genres that just about fit in dark rooms late at night as Raime, a project that splices drum & bass with cinematic scores, adds punk and shoves the lot under blue-lit hues of jazz-grime, you can’t help but feel that harping on about that glory while discussing their latest project (of sorts) does the latter disservice. But then it feels rude not to clarify the pedigree we’re dealing with here.
Chin-stroking disciples will by now have left the room in disgust at the suggestion Moin is a new era. Paste is the second contiguous album under the name, but the duo were actually working with this moniker before Raime was a thing. Credibility hopefully retained, to some extent, this latest effort is perhaps the finest thing the two heads — and new compatriot Valentina Magaletti — have ever done. Elements of hip hop and experimental downbeat lift the garage rock foundations to unfathomable heights of samples, loops, words, plucks, melodies, darkness, light, subtle euphoria, and humour. Post-genre for those bored of post-genre.
MH
Andy Ash – All The Colours (Quintessentials)
Liverpool-based artist Andy Ash returns to Quintessentials with some of his most accomplished material to date, serving up varying shades of deep house wonderment on the ‘All The Colours’ LP. The DJ, producer and visual artist has kept up a prolific work rate of late, with his production prowess edging ever forward with each carefully crafted release. The new album was tantalisingly teased last month thanks to a splendid remix EP, and, sure enough, the finished article proves to be inspired throughout. The collection sees Andy collaborate with a selection of talented vocal artists, adding an extra dimension to his propulsive four/four soundscapes.
The LP launches with the rugged dancefloor drive of ‘The Sound’, where Eric Rico’s soul-drenched vocal simmers over deviant synths and fizzing drums. Next, the growling acid and Fingers-esque bass of ‘Life’ is a fist-pumping main room guarantee, while the deep house shuffle and Peach Boys-inspired top-line of ‘I’m Here’ provides one of many magnetic, heads-down moods. Rousing slap bass and cheerful crowd samples enliven the impossibly propulsive disco flex of ‘The Village’, before the bump resumes via the solid drums and undulating synth motifs of ‘Os Talking’.
The swung groove and dreamy keys of ‘Mad Affection’ make way for the introspective profundity of ‘Another’, before closing track ‘Letting Go’ blends dusty rhythms with melancholy chords for a poignant endpoint. Andy Ash proves himself among the very best of the UK’s house protagonists here, and, if it’s ho-ho is your game, ‘All The Colours’ is nothing short of a must-have album.
PC
Christina Vantzou – No 5 (Kranky)
As you might well surmise from the title, Christina Vantzou is returning to Kranky for her fifth solo album, although the US experimental artist has a much busier discography of works covering more than 10 years since she first emerged. In the past few years she’s been working regularly with John Also Bennett on the CV & JAB albums amongst many other ventures, but here she returns to her methods as a mighty re-arranger, pooling session recordings from a plethora of musicians and feeding them into her unique tapestries.
There’s a sense of closeness orbiting the music, whether through the synth passages of ‘Reclining Figures’ encircling your ears, or via the ASMR tickle of footsteps on foliage leading us into the fragmented swoon of ‘Red Eel Dream’. The shards of instrumentation and performance are cast asunder and yet they spring back to Vantzou’s lantern like dutiful moths as she navigates us through strange archipelagos of atmospheric sound. Despite the sense of space and travel, at all times every sonic incident feels within reach – intentional and graspable.
Sometimes the composition comes through more lucidly, as on ‘Kimona I’, and elsewhere the direction feels tangential. ‘Tongue Shaped Rock’ lilts and meanders. With each new turn throughout No 5, the intrigue deepens.
OW
Rachika Nayar – Heaven Comes Crashing (NNA Tapes)
To say Rachika Nayar’s music feels romantic wouldn’t quite be right. In so many ways, Rachika Nayar’s music is romance. A love affair for an age in which the organic and synthesised are rapidly becoming one, when we have long-since understood it’s possible to see something of ourselves, and each other, in the mechanical and algorithmic results of our own machinations. Warm humanity in a world where it’s easy to overlook the importance of actual living things.
Quite the attempt at poetic justice, really the record is best described as “beautiful”. Nayer’s previous efforts made it pretty clear her backstop is the guitar, but here that instrument appears almost unrecognisable. These mini-epics of synth, sounds that feel born under the yellow glows of street lights on winter walks home from clubs, times when we have opportunity to take everything in through wide-eyed observations impossible amid the frantic mayhem of days driven by the apparatus putting us at risk of forgetting ourselves. Climaxing with a title track that sends breaks crashing around your ears and finally unleashes guitars in an orgy of drum, drone, and riff, before tucking us up in the cosiness of gentile refrains. Truly something to hold close.
MH
When Soundway Records set about shedding light on the various hidden corners of the musical universe, they do it proper. The latest niche on the receiving end of Soundway loving is ‘80s Argentina’s electronic avant-garde, with all-manner of idiosyncratic curios carefully curated by Ric Piccolo and Ariel Harari. Italo disco, electro-funk, post-punk, tango, ambience, jazz-fusion, Afro-folk and techno-pop are all represented here, via a most generous 19 tracks split across three slabs of wax.
The compilation starts strongly thanks to the moody electronics of Carlos Cutaia’s ‘Operativo’ before gliding up and down the gears across a routinely enjoyable set. Ric Piccolo’s edit of ‘Dimensiones Ocultus’ from El Signo provides bags of electro-boogie enthusiasm, as does the Harari edit of Toby’s ‘Ain’t That Better’. The rising melodies and optimistic sensations of Mike Ribas’ ‘Secuencia Sin Consecuencias200’ do a fine job lifting the mood, while the blissed-out Balearica of ‘Reencuentros N° 2’ from Adalberto Cevasco proves a sumptuous sundown highlight.
Elsewhere, the upbeat groove and hyperactive vocals of Divina Gloria’s ‘Mediterranée Club’ is sure to get bodies moving, and the soul-flecked funk of ‘I Wanna Make You Mine’ from Delight is one of the many feel-good jams that permeate this wildly imaginative collection. There’s scarcely a dull moment throughout, and owning this album is sure to add much to even the most well-rounded of music collections.
PC
Loraine James – Building Something Beautiful For Me (Phantom Limb)
As the world continues to play catch up with the genius of Julius Eastman, projects such as this one will do wonders to help enshrine the late American composer’s name beyond the realms of classical music. Through a connection with Eastman’s brother Gerry, Phantom Limb have been able to commission Loraine James to create a bold yet sensitive response to Eastman’s work.
Building Something Beautiful For Me feels intimate beyond James’ prior albums for Hyperdub. While her beat-oriented work still operates with a certain internal logic that keeps it independent from broader stylistic trends, her ability to seemingly transcode her personality into her music comes through stronger in these more delicate pieces. It’s aligned more naturally then with the Whatever The Weather project which appeared on Ghostly earlier this year, but of course there’s a strong variable here in the form of Eastman’s compositions, sample source material and overall imposing presence.
From one gay Black artist to another across a generational and geographical divide, the resonance remains deep, but equally James doesn’t sound phased by the project and instead projects herself through it with grace. Eastman is unquestionably there in this work, but ultimately, it’s another development for Loraine James, one of the strongest voices in contemporary electronic music.
OW
This week’s reviewers: Ben Willmott, Jude Iago James, Martin Hewitt, Oliver Warwick, Patrizio Cavaliere.