DJ Richard - Grind

Label: Dial

Much great art comes from conflict. Whether it be a corrosive relationship, sudden loss or psychological crisis, tough times push us to emotional extremes that seem to result in a striking artistic clarity and power. The driving force behind DJ Richard’s debut LP seems to be displacement, a move from the States to Berlin and the loss of a familiar natural landscape.

Far from his native ocean, the White Material co-founder populates his album with titles evoking the rock formations, fauna and natural phenomena of his native Rhode Island, yet the dark industrial sonic traits of his new home in Berlin are never far from the listener’s ear. This contrast is the power of Grind, a collection of kinetic electronica on the border between house and techno, its moods and rhythms in constant flux, the product of a mind that churns like the sea.

Nighthawk

The level of refinement and cohesion to these tracks is perhaps not a surprise given its context – this album has been made twice. A burglary cost Richard a laptop with a near-finished version of his debut LP, and so he was made to rebuild, using almost no samples in the process. This perhaps explains why Grind feels so full and engaging, each track a marvel of mood and detail. 

The mood across the album is decidedly ominous and brooding, particularly on the heavy, contemplative ambient interludes No Balance and Ejected, yawning abysses poised to swallow the listener whole. Yet outside of this foundation many other emotions take hold. On Nighthawk a delicate two-note tweet may be subdued but still feels optimistic against a rhythm that sounds like the cracking of a great insect’s exoskeleton. Following is Waiting For The Green Flash, the first in a pair of references to rare optical phenomena, which glitters menacingly, its intentions shrouded in mist.

Bane

The album then enters a run of accomplished and otherworldly dance tracks, kicking off with the tumbling arpeggios of Savage Coast and the soaring harmonies of Screes Of Grey Craig. The brightness that lights the corners of these tracks comes to the fore on surprising highlight Bane, where a burbling melody skids joyously over a splintered drum pattern, occasionally rising to the boil and cascading all around. The album’s deep centrepiece is I-Mir, as patient as Bane is effervescent, largely composed of a raw tunnelling bassline, a stammering kick and a swelling ambient wash like a ghostly choir roiled by the waves. Four minutes in enter a set of clattering metallic snares, marching forward with martial precision and threat.

While DJ Richard’s previous EPs showed music more sophisticated than typical club music, they were calibrated for dancing, and Grind is a departure from that. DJs will find some great club tracks if they choose to skim it for parts, but that would be to miss the holistic effect of the album. This is narrative techno, and in typical artistic form, the narrative of conflict draws us inexorably towards reconciliation. This is heard on Vampire Dub, a confection of twinkling synth work, gauzy keys that leave behind calming jet-trails, and bubbling mechanical accents. Here the feelings of displacement are left behind, resolution can be found in a composition which is nakedly beautiful. This is the deserved conclusion to a great artistic accomplishment; a dance album with no fat, no misfires, every tune essential, surprising and rewarding. We hear darkness and conflict resolved through artistic expression, and we find peace.

9/10

Read the original review at Inverted Audio.

John Roberts – Fences

Label: Dial

In 2010, Ohio-born John Roberts made an unlikely intrusion onto the house scene. The first American signing to the prestigious Dial imprint, he released his debut album Glass Eights after only a handful of singles, and no one could have expected the impact that it would make. An effortlessly elegant and detailed collection of deep house that married Germany’s subdued 4/4 lineage with Roberts’ own unique classical flavours, the album won a well-deserved place in many critics’ year-end lists.

Since then, a lot has changed in Roberts’ life. He splits his time between producing and contributing to The Travel Almanac, a boutique magazine that focuses on the interaction between artists and temporary habitation. For the last few years Roberts has lived a largely nomadic existence, travelling the world and building an enviable sample bank of sounds which would later become his second album, Fences. “I think that the influence of travel on creative pursuits is unavoidable,” Roberts told me in an exclusive interview with Inverted Audio, “every time I visit someplace new, or revisit a place that I’ve already been after some time has passed, my perception and way of interacting with that location and ways of working on whatever project I am consumed with at that time is definitely altered.” Just so, Fences bears all the traces of a travelling artist, each track a meticulously detailed yet defiantly impressionistic snapshot of a particular mood or theme. Yet it is not only Roberts’ process which has changed: as hinted at on the Paper Frames EP, Fences eschews the deeper sounds of Glass Eights in favour of rhythmic complexity and sophisticated structures, evoking the jumbled contents of a weary traveller’s suitcase.

Album Preview

Roberts’ use of classical instrumentation on Glass Eights was one of the album’s most impressive features, and the voyage continues on Fences, now incorporating distinctly Eastern instrumental samples and toybox melodies which jostle for prominence amongst the soft piano and keening strings. Not that Roberts has entirely abandoned the dancefloor: a crashing percussive assault underpins the tuned melodies and mournful strings of Calico, while Fences’ baleful introduction gives way to a sharp kick which anchors the complexity of its clipped melodic samples.

Yet time and again across Fences, the tracks which impress most are the strangest. Early highlight Shoes drops the tempo of its crashing kicks to play host to a beautiful combination of echoing keys and a mesmerising detuned melody. Later on, Plaster picks up these bewitching analog sounds with an imperial stomp, while an unexpectedly beautiful rest at the 2-minute mark exhibits Roberts’ prescient grasp over song structure. Penultimate track Blanket completes the trilogy of detuned highlights, another slow jam where frayed synthwork lays the ground for exotic toybox melodies.

Despite Roberts’ dedication to crashing percussive patterns, some of Fences’ beatless pieces remain some of its most successful moments. Opener Bleach and mid-album interlude Braids are both stunning feats of sample manipulation; beautiful and spacious constructions as moving as they are meditative. These gorgeous passages, along with beautiful closing dirge Chalkdust, are a welcome respite from the album’s denser moments which, while immaculately crafted, can feel somewhat cluttered when listening to the album in full.

These special moments, alongside a worthwhile revisit to Glass Eights, make one realise Roberts’ unique gift at utilising space and patience in his compositions, a talent which feels underused in many of these busy productions. It’s not that each of Fences’ constituent tracks are in any way disappointing: indeed, heard alone, each is an exquisite gemstone more than worthy of the listener’s time. However the lack of sonic variation across the album and the relentless assault of different sounds can become tiring across a complete listen, with the result that one track bleeds imperceptibly into the next, failing to make the lasting impression that one feels it could in another context.

“I’ve always loved the idea of being able to look back on what you’ve done and see visible progressions and refinements over time,” Roberts remarked in interview. Without a doubt, one can see that his taste and style have changed remarkably in the short space of two years, and the individual productions on Fences stand as a testament to his extraordinary vision and skill. Yet because the album never quite coheres as a whole, the listener may be left having to pick out the loose strands of beauty from the dense arrangements. If you care to do so, you’ll see that on Fences there is an awful lot of beauty to be found.

7.5/10

John Roberts – Paper Frames

Label: Dial

The EP is one of the most common forms of output for any producer affiliated with the world of electronic and dance music. Whether a collection of dancefloor stompers or hints at a new musical direction, EPs tend to sit comfortably between a long-form musical concept in an LP or the quick-fix nature of a 12” single. Occasionally an EP comes out that really wows in its depth and quality, something seen more as a cohesive statement than a collection of tracks, such as Floating Points’ rightly lauded Shadows EP from last year. When John Roberts rose to prominence in 2010 for his revelatory Glass Eights album, he appeared as a cut above, and no one would have expected him to approach the EP format as a mere collection of loosely-related tracks. At the same time, it wasn’t exactly expected that Roberts would take two years to form another solo release, so I’m sure I wasn’t the only one keen to see if Roberts still had it in him to proceed from the shadow of his debut.

Paper Frames

Not only has Roberts pulled off another stunner with Paper Frames, he also proves that the gestation period was necessary, changing up his style enough to justify the long wait. Glass Eights showcased a producer with a genuinely unique approach to Deep House; overtly beautiful melodies often structured in a symphonic style, with organic qualities to both the composition and the delicately interwoven instrumental samples. Being able to do all this while remaining danceable is no mean feat, but yet again Roberts has pulled it off.

Roberts has always taken incidental tracks more seriously than a lot of his contemporaries, one need look no further than the shining Interlude (Telephone) or the sumptuously orchestral Went from his debut album to see that. Paper Frames shows that he continues to understand the importance of these interludes, with two shorter tracks lending this release a depth and cohesion of sound unusual in EP releases. Untitled II kicks off proceedings with swooping cello and piano creating atmosphere in spades, all underpinned by tumbling percussion that can barely hold onto a rhythm (a stunning effect pulled off by canny micro-edits). It’s a gorgeous piece in its own right, and functions perfectly as an introduction to the A-side’s heavy-hitter, title track Paper Frames. Here Roberts moves away from his previous 4/4 drum patterns for a shifting stomp that staggers powerfully through the track along with a wide array of gracefully layered found-sounds and music-box tinkles. Not only is Roberts doing something defiantly new, he pulls it off with a confidence and quality that rewards repeated listeners in the clever details and careful arrangements.

Crushing Shells

The B-side opens out with the soothing Untitled IV, where languid piano chords fall in organic patterns, preparing the listeners for the EP’s final punch. Crushing Shells delivers with style, a collection of subtle twinkles and strings giving way to a woody 4/4 stomp. The final bar pulls back the beat in a disorientating rhythmic loop, perhaps hinting at the less dancefloor-friendly nature of the release. At the same time, there’s a great deal of movement on display, from the tense piano samples to that loping house groove, and Roberts never lets the quality slip for even a second. Clocking in at just 13 minutes, this is a slight release but the individuality and attention to detail once again astounds, and proves that Roberts has got so much more to give. By expanding his horizons while remaining attached to that tasteful classical palette, it seems he can do no wrong.

8/10

John Roberts – Glass Eights

Lesser

Pruned

Glass Eights

Berlin's endless list of deep house producers show a variety of artists who stretch house to its inner limits, fusing it with other genres to produce albums which often contain a unique and definitive sound; from Pantha Du Prince's minimal chimes to The Field's mechanical techno bent, all combine experimental composition with the anchoring warmth of house beats. Dial's only US national (but still Berlin-based) John Roberts has taken it upon himself to take house in a more classical direction, creating an LP of good tracks that make a varied and often stunning whole.

House is a genre known for its singles and compilations, but here it is clear that Roberts truly understands the album format; from the overture of Lesser to the ambient build up piano piece Went that leads magnificently into thumping closer Glass Eights the album is almost symphonically structured, and few tracks are out of place. The tracks can seem frosty at first, and perhaps the subtlety of composition is a tad unwelcoming but as the album becomes more lived in it opens up to stellar effect, the contrasting temperatures of icy classical textures and warm house beats unfailingly create a gorgeous whole.

This is showcased on opener Lesser in which a musty looped piano sample duels with an understated beat while a lofi fuzz recedes and re-enters the structure just like an instrument, synths cascading across the track. This moves into the backwards strings and piano of Navy Blue which create a glacial ambient soundscape upon which Roberts layers finely tuned beats with delicacy. Throughout this album each sound is finely tuned and subtly equalized so the whole has to be picked apart, it is never showy but the quiet moments where his skill shines through are always fantastic, most frequently revealed upon realization of Roberts' almost superhuman knack for deftly layering his beats. This is perfectly displayed in third track Ever Or Not, where the beats are even more subdued than usual and a hissed piano sample loses out towards the end of the track to foot-tapping handclaps of extraordinary precision, each clap leaving a dubby reverb echoing through the soundfield.

As a result of the subtlety of his approach, some tracks don't quite have the desired impact. The middle third of the album flags somewhat, heavier cut Dedicated seems oddly on the nose and although the beats are good the replacement of classical instrumentation by ominous synths ends up sounding slightly cheap. This is followed by Interlude (Telephone) which is a surprisingly full and satisfying composition for an interlude (and because of the album's careful attention to sequencing we can believe it was meant as an interlude not just a track that didn't quite work out in full), with an aggressive beat slowly superceding a jangly ambient melody. The album seems like it is going to pick up again with the sinister and brilliant Pruned which has an inspired piano chord progression soldiering on valiantly through a dark and foreboding soundscape of scraping strings and ominous synths. Unfortunately this is followed by the techno-esque cut Porcelain which is nice enough but tires out long before its seven minute runtime is up.

However I'd recommend the listener doesn't give up just yet, because the final three tracks are possibly the album's best. Autumnal cut August opens with a warping note accompanied by a cracking snare and is layered upon exquisitely by a cracking beat that builds slowly before a fantastic game-changing synth effect enters to periodically contort the track's landscape midway through the runtime. Not content to stop with what would already be a great track, Roberts undertakes a melodic breakdown, isolating and warping the individual layers before building it all back up again to great effect. The album is then allowed to take a breath in the form of pretty and emotive piano piece Went which double-layers complex notation to create a shimmering beatless sound. This prepares the listener for knock-out closer and title track Glass Eights which mixes a great descending piano sequence with one of the best beats on the album. The music departs with brief but beautiful strings that beg for the listener to go through once more, looking for more of these gorgeous details.

Even though I've described a low sequence midway through the album, the LP works very well as a whole and the better tracks more than carry the weaker ones. It's hard to isolate a killer single and most of the tracks need to be given time for their details to emerge and shine, but this album is a rich, atmospheric and deserving record that will reveal its brilliance listen after listen.

9.0/10