Machinedrum - Vapor City

Label: Ninja Tune

If Travis Stewart is one thing, he’s prolific. A veteran of the New York and Berlin scenes, Stewart’s stream of strong releases is matched only by his collaborative material, both with Jimmy Edgar as JETS and with Braille as Sepalcure. Yet even considering his reputation as a restlessly talented producer, Stewart’s career remains an anomaly: how many artists are capable of both producing for a mainstream rapper and securing a hallowed 5/5 from dance authority Resident Advisor? The album in question, 2011’s superb Room(s) on Planet Mu, hints at the explanation. Here Stewart cemented his trademark sounds – urgent, jukey percussion and colourful melodies – in a work which fused countless styles into a dazzling hybrid. Here was a producer obviously forward-thinking but also impressively versatile, leaving a pair of enormous shoes to fill for follow-up LP Vapor City.

The album in question is a concept piece of sorts, each track a soundtrack to neighbourhoods of a city that Stewart frequently visits in his dreams. It bears many of the traits of Room(s), from the still-fresh fusion of juke and jungle to the blissed-out melodies which adroitly counterpoint the frantic rhythms. Obviously these sounds can’t be as captivating second time around, but Stewart does a good job of it, offering a worthy successor which perhaps only suffers from a narrowed focus compared to its predecessor.

Gunshotta

As on the memorable She Died There, Vapor City opens with a compelling sense of desolation in the form of Gunshotta’s frosty junglism. Here throaty bass growls beneath roiling breaks, later adorned by a spitfire ragga vocal loop which brings the dread inna 90’s style. From here on out it’s largely a smoother journey, as Stewart offers softened breakbeats, liberally adorned with breathy vocals and emotive melodic movements. It’s an interesting approach, particularly given that the current hardcore revival tends to revel in the style’s toughness and menace, and at first proves refreshing. The technique is perfected on the heavenly Center Your Love, where delicate breaks tumble beneath sweetened guitar and lilting female vocals, before giving way to Stewart’s trademark frothing rave chords.

These softer numbers make for pretty listening, but the formula grows weary as the album progresses: the sweeter concoctions, from Infinite Us to Seesea via Don’t 1 2 Lose You, shine less brightly when placed next to their similar brethren. It’s unfortunate, because this is clearly the work of an eminently talented producer – the acrobatic vocal manipulations of Seesea are a case in point.

Eyesdontlie

The mood may get a bit lost somewhere across the album’s midsection, but Stewart re-takes the reins for Vapor City’s outstanding final suite. U Still Lie is an insant winner, where echo-chamber futurism takes form with a slow trip hop swagger, as half-heard rocker’s croons (perhaps Stewart’s own?) are slowly submerged by a glistening 80s synthline. In an album which brings tropes of dance music past so determinedly into the future, it’s a gorgeous moment of retro fervour which warrants repeated spins.

This leads straight onto the straight-up album highlight Eyesdontlie, a killer fusion which twins pitch-bent vocal loops over steel-plated snares to intoxicating effect. These two tracks, along with Gunshotta, show just how brilliant Machinedrum sounds when he lets the darkness in, and many might wish he did so a little bit more. Any tourist will find something to love in Stewart’s well-realised dreamscape, and while it might not mark a huge departure from the sound of Room(s), it proves another welcome exploration of the mind of the restless artist.  Ultimately though, while the album's lovestruck compositions are undeniably attractive, they lack the weight and memorability of those vital trips to Vapor City’s roughest neighbourhoods.

7.5/10

Etch - Old School Methods

Label: Keysound

Of the groups piecing together the shards of dubstep’s remains, Dusk and Blackdown’s Keysound imprint aren’t just leading the way – they’ve practically lapped the competition. As discussed in last month’s Visionist review, the stable have rejected the steady onslaught of the 4/4 on the UK scene, pushing forward vital new blends of grime, garage and dubstep under the loose banner of ‘dark 130'. After lending a platform to shining new talents Beneath, Wen and Visionist, Keysound offer up another strong debut courtesy of Etch, who brings a distinct junglist edge to his tough compositions.

Hybrid

The EP kicks off with its strongest player in the form of Hybrid, a heady blend of choppy melodics, thundering bass hits and classic vocal cuts. The pace is frenetic and the rhythm is rude as they come, but Etch handles the disparate elements with a masterful hand: the soundfield bristles with life without ever feeling cluttered. Next J-One joins the fray for Sounds, whose 2step woodblock pattern feels blissfully gentle by comparison, twinned with subtle melodies and drifting vocal snips.

On the B-side, Sphynx steps back into the darkness, as vocals straight out of an old ‘ardcore tape are stitched to another expert 2step rhythm, adorned by surgical break cuts and dreamy pads. Finally Lost Methods incorporates menacing DnB bass swipes, resulting in a potent concoction with as much emphasis on white space as on the sounds themselves. Sounds’ recurring vocal line, “whenever we hear sounds / we are changed, we are no longer the same,” could be viewed as nothing more than a truism, but for Etch it feels particularly apt. Here is a producer who has listened to the UK’s hardcore past, has been changed by it, who now revitalises those sounds to change others, perpetuating the cycle. Music that changes people that change music that changes.

7.5/10

Special Request - Hardcore

Label: Houndstooth

After the astounding success of his viciously compelling 2006 single Erotic Discourse, Paul Woolford somewhat disappeared from view. While the producer continued to work, notably issuing 2011’s excellent Stolen collaboration with Psychatron, it wasn’t until Woolford donned his Special Request guise last year that the world really started paying attention. Across a series of four self-released, vinyl-only singles, Special Request evoked the crushed, blistering power of the warehouse rave through a modernisation of classic jungle and DnB templates. With standout tracks Lolita and Mindwash, Woolford has decimated many of the UK’s discerning dancefloors over the last year, and now for the first time he turns to the rising star of Fabric-affiliated label Houndstooth to issue his fullest Special Request excursion to date.

Woolford offers two original cuts here, opening the EP with the hefty stomp of Wall To Wall. All the Special Request trademarks are here: the sunken kick compressed to within an inch of its life alongside a stark, brutal percussive field, all mixed with a healthy dose of distortion. The clipped, syncopated vocal cuts and swandiving bass hits towards the close cap off a tune of powerfully destructive proportions, yet the track is still somehow outshone by Woolford’s other offering, the nasty pirate-radio homage of Broken Dreams. Here rebounding bass notes underpin a mutating array of surgical break cuts, resulting in a tune that conjures the breathless energy of the UK’s hardcore continuum at its best without ever sounding like pastiche. The energy just lets up once, as the rhythm is interrupted by a blissed-out breather of a female vocal, serving to prepare the listener and the ‘floor for another three minutes of mayhem.

So far, this is what we’ve come to expect from Special Request; a pair of formidable excursions into breakbeat science, even if this is indeed an uncommonly fine pair. Yet this is where Houndstooth’s expert guiding voice makes itself heard, as the two original cuts are backed by a superb pair of remixes every bit as fascinating as Woolford’s original pieces. Firstly Brooklyn house youngster Anthony Naples takes on Mindwash in his ‘Eternal Mix’, an appropriately titled rework that looks at hardcore through a thick gauze of nostalgia and deterioration, sapping the strength of Woolford’s breaks and layering mournful pads and vocal clips over the top. It’s a brilliant idea, and more than anything proves Naples’ capabilities outside of the house mould, but one can’t help but feel that the track is over far too soon, disappointingly fading out after only three minutes.

The second choice of remixer is just as inspired, as Houndstooth invites jungle distortionist Lee Gamble to take on the unreleased Capsules. This beautifully patient rework builds a detailed field of ambience, both glossy and desiccated, rounding off a powerhouse EP on a sublimely atmospheric, introspective note. Woolford seems unstoppable at the moment, as his junglist tendencies rule the underground while his latest Hotflush release Untitled is set to take over Ibiza. What Houndstooth have drawn from him is another stellar addition to the Special Request canon and an exceptional pair of remixes, a package that rejoices in the power of real ‘ardcore while simultaneously mourning its loss.

8/10

Zomby - With Love

Label: 4AD

While some critics may think that Zomby’s notorious personality is not relevant to a discussion of his music, one might equally argue the opposite. The obnoxious web presence is perhaps not wholly unmerited, masking as it does a producer who is eminently talented. At the same time, the infamous no-shows at headlining spots across his career correlate neatly with an artist who rarely finishes his own tracks, instead releasing albums of beautiful sketches which range from tantalising to frustrating in their brevity. On With Love, his third full length (and second for major indie label 4AD), Zomby’s character is more pertinent than ever; as the album’s first disc could almost be called a summary of the producer’s evolving style over the last half decade.

It’s testament to Zomby’s musicality and his unique voice that he has legions of fans despite the notoriety: the man makes good music. Yet still, With Love is a something of a hard sell. 33 tracks stretched over two discs - parts of the album show Zomby at his best, yet as a whole the LP is somewhat unwieldy. Some may find the abundance gratifying: if you’re going to keep all the songs under four minutes in length, you may as well offer a lot of them. On the other hand, it’s difficult not to feel that trimmed down to the fifteen finest, With Love could be one of the year’s best albums. It will ultimately come down to a question of individual taste, but there is undeniably a lot to love here.

Ascension / Sunshine In November / Overdose / Memories

With Love’s first disc offers a cross-section of Zomby’s musical history, from the ravey breaks of Where Were U In ’92? on Overdose and 777 to the delicate darkness of Dedication recalled on If I Will. Being Zomby, there is of course the obligatory RnB sample, here on Rendezvous, where Brandy's voice is turned distant and anaesthetised. It’s a nocturnal, sometimes unsettling listen, where the mood can stray from urgent to calm within seconds, conjuring an effective dissonance. In what is becoming a trademark, the album deals in myriad references to the UK’s hardcore continuum; here jungle and hardcore rub shoulders with grime and garage, all woven into a sound indisputably Zomby’s own.

The disc hits its stride with Horrid, all tunnelling bass hits and bristling, paranoid synthwork. From here is a run of some of the artist’s best work to date; If I Will’s urgent vocal is set over a field of cheap grime strings and crystalline xylophone-esque melodies, through the low-slung lope and glittering piano of Isis to the dazed breaks of It’s Time. The disc reaches its zenith with Memories, a delicately-crafted duel between soft and hard synthwork, set over a military beat pattern. Yet after this, With Love’s first disc seems to lose its edge. Aside from the mournful darkness of Pray For Me, the same ideas are reworked with less flair, giving the disc’s second half the distinct taint of excess.

Soliloquy

The album’s second disc looks further to Zomby’s future as an artist, but it doesn’t venture that far from his established sound. Here the familiar atmospheres, forged by fragile synthwork painted in bright digital strokes, are supported by skittering 808 percussion, like a tasteful zombification of the current trap trend. These tracks are at their best when Zomby grows introspective, and the run from Reflection In Black Glass to Sunshine In November is where the majority of the disc’s highlights are hidden. These two beautiful beatless sketches are ruthlessly brief, but stunning nonetheless. They also sandwich album highlight Soliloquy, the closest With Love gets to an actual song with a real sense of structure, progression and melodic richness.

The complexity of this late-album highlight illuminates just how impressive Zomby’s work can be when it’s simple: for the album’s best 40-odd minutes he works with just a few sonic layers and practically zero structural progression yet the results are utterly enchanting. Some may justifiably call this album excessive, or denounce the brief tracks as lazy sketches, but since Dedication Zomby’s music has been something that demands to be taken on its own terms. Perhaps the magic of his productions depends on these qualities: if Zomby sat down to write ten 6-minute tracks as a coherent album, would the end result be this good? This reviewer thinks not. With Love is the latest beautiful, messy release from an increasingly singular artist, who deserves to be appreciated because of, rather than despite, his flaws.

7.5/10

Pev – Aztec Chant

Label: Livity Sound

Aztec Chant

Hot off the success of his superb Kowton collab Raw Code, Bristol scene veteran Peverelist comes up with another awe-inspiring pair of club tracks that defy categorisation. On the subtly crafted A-side Pev’s trademark mind-bending beat patterns play host to throbbing sub-bass and exotic rhythms. The Bristolian has always had a knack for atmosphere, but when a rough-n-ready breakbeat intrudes into the subdued soundfield you’ll know you’re in for a treat. The junglist loop is sliced and diced to impressive effect in the track’s final minutes, as Pev takes an undulating approach to structure which cannily eschews traditional build-drop-breakdown dynamics.

Livity

B-side Livity has been floating around on the internet for a couple of years but its enduring power only highlights the timelessness of Pev’s creations, which sit confidently outside the dance world’s sometimes-oppressive trend continuum. A more peak-time affair than its sibling, here a searing synthline conjures unease, distorted across a dense field of hissing percussion, lending the track a viscerality which is cleverly counterpointed by the jangling keys that kick three minutes into the piece. It’s business as usual for Pev, effortlessly conjuring a pair of raw tracks that will please both the ‘floor and the headphone crowd, paying loving homage to the UK scene’s sonic history while never walking anyone’s path but his own.

8/10