Forget The Clock Vinyl & CDs

Review: Detroit dance luminary Kyle Hall is an unstoppable - un-toppable - force, impressing us over the years not with grandiose displays of techno-bravado but rather measured demonstrations of groove and syncopation. Hall hails from Detroit but finds just as strong inspirations in the tricky essences of deep house and broken beat, emergent from the UK. 'Good Hado' tops up this now seam-bulging record bag with four more bursty metropolitan movements, the first of which is, fittingly, called 'Movable'; a prime piece of dance real estate indeed, standing firm whilst also proving ambulatory. Then there's 'In Ya Mind', which affirms the partial truth of mind before matter, while the B1 'Turqouise Wave' ups the pad amplitude for a knockier modular jazz workout. And finally, we end on a green hempy heave with 'Weed Or Majik', whose unhurried snaps, claps and zaps imply the temporary risk, yet often equal reward, of confusing the two.

Review: This is a welcome reissue of one of Kyle Hall's most brilliant recent outings. It came first in 2020 on the label he founded in 2019, Forget The Clock, and sounds as good now as it ever did. 'Shark' is a louche deep house jam with signature dusty drums and noodling synths, then 'Vexed' gets more club-ready with its raw drum stomps and shades of Larry Heard and Ron Trent loom large over the classy house depths of 'Distant'. 'Slam Deep' is a minimal and skeletal beat knocked out on an MPC, you imagine, with bleeping synth pulses and 'Channel & Transmission' closes out the varied EP with scruffy, shuffling house drums and popping synth colours.

Review: Detroit house hero Kyle Hall returns with his biggest project in some time in the form of Transmissions, a new double album on his own well-regarded Forget The Clock. All six tracks have enigmatic, functional titles and the music is as idiosyncratic as ever. Each one veers more towards techno than is Hall's usual style, with pulsating synth lines and tight, dusty drum tracks making for stripped-to-the-bones grooves. Later on, things grow ever more abstract with twisted acid lines screwing their way through the increasingly ragged and roughshod drums. These are perfectly imperfect jams from a master of the form.