Dusk + Blackdown – Dasaflex

Label: Keysound

It’s surprising, given how long Dusk (Dan Frampton) and Blackdown (excellent UK dance chronicler Martin Clark) have been involved in the UK dance scene that their joint output has come thus far to just over a single LP. Admittedly the pair have had a lot on their plates; Blackdown writes eloquently on the contemporary dance scene while the pair also run the excellent Keysound label, home to superb recent LPs courtesy of LHF, Sully and Damu. Their debut, Margins Music, proved a conceptual and innovative dissection of the dance scene circa 2008, and with Dasaflex the pair appear to cast a similar net. Here they once more offer an impressively varied assessment of current trends, but unlike on their debut the duo seem to hesitate to push its boundaries.

High Road

Dasaflex starts strong and mostly continues that way but offers few surprises. After the spacious and atmospheric opener Lonely Moon (Android Heartbreak), the pair begin to hop between clearly delineated genres fluently and proficiently but all too often fail to offer anything that feels that new. As a result, the tunes that sound a little different are, unsurprisingly, the best. The singular standout High Road, most likely a Burial collaboration (have you heard those beats) showcases canned 2step beats that flex under deep atmospherics and an inspired 4-note melodic progression that stylishly dominates the latter half of the track. Elsewhere the pair are most on form at their most experimental; the wonderfully weird R In Zero G is a Blackdown solo piece that combines rapid percussive twitches with mind-fraying melodic interruptions, while Dusk’s closer Fraction, which calls to mind Keysound labelmate Double Helix of LHF, is all noir synths and breakneck garage rhythms that get the pulse racing.

Dasaflex

That’s not to say that all the less experimental tracks on here are bad, either. Specifically title track Dasaflex is a powerful slab of UK Funky, replete with bouncing beats and a wandering bassline which is complimented perfectly by a melodic series of vocal snippets. Yet many of the other tunes can feel overlong and fail to hold attention throughout their runtime, with tunes like ballsy rave-referencing number Wicked Vibez and the bland Next Generation proving loud but instantly forgettable.

The London sound is very much here and Dasaflex is still a worthwhile album in that respect, but all too often it feels as if the pair are paying tribute to the dance canon rather than pushing it forward. Ultimately it appears that the duo are looking more into the present than the future and the LP suffers as a result; it lacks the conceptual cohesion of their debut and doesn’t quite offer enough memorable tracks to make it worth repeated listens.

 6.5/10