“Dorian Hope” is not a tune to take lightly. New York-via-San Francisco producer Hound Scales, who’s been busy getting his new Fifth Wall label off the ground with frequent collaborator/co-founder Divvorce, is set to release an additional 12″ on Infinite Machine. “Dorian Hope,” the b-side from the forthcoming single, is built from the ground up on abrasive textures, screaming machines, and twisted feedback, all of which chip away at the house tune trying to climb out of the murk. The surprisingly sweet chord change that quietly kicks in at the one-minute mark does little to fight off the maelstrom, as Hound Scales is quick to introduce a marching bassline that beats back any potential comfort. Still, this is all very danceable, solid work from a producer who’s building a pedigree of degrading, punishing house that pays off, both on the dancefloor and in headphones. “Suction Clip” b/w “Dorian Hope” is out March 11.
Throughout the ever-ascending career of Henry Laufer (a.k.a. Shlohmo), the California producer’s beats have seen a consistent progression of form. From the Shlohmoshun mini-LP and other earlier works to 2011’s Places EP and Bad Vibes album, the rough, stuttering head-nodders that defined Shlohmo’s initial outings have given way to beats that incorporate bits of live instrumentation while coming across with more of a soul-burned singe. The transformation continued on last year’s Vacation EP, which found Laufer wrapping his glowing textures around a more bass-minded core, infusing the efforts with the skittering hats, tuned snares, and reworked vocals of R&B-informed trap and post-dubstep. Still, despite all these stylistic twists and turns, the character of Laufer’s productions has largely remained unaltered, as he continues to display a natural comfort with contemplative moods and introspective, even somber musical themes. Laid Out, his latest EP, stays true to this pattern, bringing with it a new sonic twist while once again finding Laufer decidedly pensive and subdued.
“I was 18 and 19 [years old] when I was making Shlomoshun. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing,” says Laufer of his 2010 mini-LP, offering one possible reason why his aesthetic has changed so much over the past few years. Without a doubt, Laid Out is the sharpest of Laufer’s releases, particularly in terms of its rhythmic palette, which appears entirely stripped of the pot-and-pan clunks and found-sound clicks and crackles that many had come to associate with Shlohmo and the beat scene as a whole. Taking the drum programming and stylistic cues of Vacation to the next logical step, the backbone of Laid Out has more in common with modern hip-hop and trap than, say, Dilla or Flying Lotus. “I wanted the drums to be really stark and very blunt, mostly unaffected drum-machine sounds,” says Laufer. Indeed, the EP’s skittering hats, snares, and kicks are left relatively dry and out in the open. The change was intentional, as Laufer explains that moving beyond the found-sound exploration of his earlier productions was very much a conscious decision. “When Bad Vibes was getting made,” he says, “the Foley room kind of sounds really helped my ideas come across. Now, I still feel like I’m after the same feeling [as before], but the times have changed and this type of stark drums represents that feeling better.”‘
As it turns out, the rhythms aren’t the only element that Laufer strips back to more efficient forms on Laid Out. Almost every other aspect of his production has been streamlined; for instance, monophonic synth leads jump to the forefront while calm basslines and soft-synth chords exist in plain sight. Again, this was a calculated move on Laufer’s part. “Bad Vibes was really maximal for me. Every track was 30 layers deep in shit; if a song didn’t sound right, I’d just keep adding to it. On Laid Out, I wanted to boil things down,” he says before adding, “[I wanted] to make it as simple as I possibly could while still having the same intensity and the same vibe [as my other works].” Interestingly enough, this effort seems to have led the EP to sound much more “electronic” than any of the previous Shlohmo records. With the exception of the occasional guitar line and How to Dress Well‘s vocal, which features on the opening cut, Shlohmo’s past profeciency for real-world sounds and acoustic details has been traded in for sounds with a more direct impact. Laufer admits that most of the record was made inside his laptop; for better or worse, that comes through in the EP’s sharp, digital sheen.
Laid Out opens with “Don’t Say No,” a particularly downtrodden cut on which the soaring falsetto of How to Dress Well (a.k.a. Tom Krell) is set amongst a thin bed of fuzzy synths, FX-washed guitar, and a steady 3/4 beat. It could be said that “Don’t Say No” is the least “boiled down” of the record’s offerings, and—perhaps because of this—in many ways is one of its most compelling cuts. The stark drums and solemn atmosphere suit Krell’s delivery well, and the track’s dynamics follow a pleasantly unexpected path, swelling in unforeseen corners while patiently building up to an engrossing culmination of distorted synth lines, far-off melodies, and wide pads that move at a glacial pace. In a way, placing Laid Out‘s most involved production at the beginning of its run does the EP something of a disservice, as more often than not, the subsequent tracks feel vacant in ways that “Don’t Say No” did not.
Still, Shlohmo does hit on a number of interesting ideas on the EP’s remaining efforts. The influence of various UK production outfits shines through “Out of Hand,” which utilizes a skittering, Mount Kimbie-style beat—albeit one with more robust drum tones than one is likely to hear coming from across the pond. The track also incorporates a touch of spooky G-funk, thanks to a warbly, ever-present synth lead that rings out for about half the tune in an unexpectedly high register. It’s a strange mixture on paper, but Laufer manages to make the pieces fit together. The following cut, “Later,” hews closer to the exact formula everyone expects Shlohmo to be using at this point in his career—a mix of slow and stoney R&B with trap-informed snares and hat rolls. Nevertheless, despite its predictable shape, it’s hard to argue with the song’s poignant chords and irresistibly catchy melodies, particularly the alternating layers of distorted vocals, which sound as if they have been run through a virtual guitar amp or overdriven tape emulator.
“Later” may be slow by most traditional “dance music” standards, but listening to the track, one can’t help but hear the trajectory of Laufer’s productions moving gradually closer to the dancefloor and live arena. It’s not an overt change, as Laufer hasn’t begun turning out gluttonous, Baauer-style trap anthems. Yet as his career has progressed, Shlohmo has become an increasingly in-demand live act; as such, he’s expected to bring a party, and so his work has taken small—but by no means unwarranted—steps towards sounding appropriate in that setting. Stark, dry drums punch through club systems, and straightforward synth lines undoubtedly cut through a boisterous crowd more effectively than swirls of murky pads and haze-filled atmospherics. Laufer admits that he does feel some pressure to settle the differences between the live-performance Shlohmo and his work as a producer, but he asserts he hasn’t yet made a conscious effort to do so. “I don’t think I’ve changed my music specifically to accommodate a dancefloor,” he explains, “but I think it has sort of happened by chance,” adding, “You don’t go to a party wanting to listen to Bad Vibes.”
Even so, Laid Out is hardly an attempt to strike a chord with any fleeting dancefloor trend. At its core, the record is true to what Shlohmo has been known for throughout his career—moody, contemplative beats. Laufer finds it hard to explain, but after a few years of pushing his brand of “slow” music, it’s nonetheless more acceptable than ever before. “There wasn’t the space for this kind of stuff [in a live setting] even three years ago,” explains Laufer. “Back then, I was getting bottles thrown at me for playing slow shit.” With a headlining North American tour set for the months ahead, and a lengthy list of live dates behind him, it’s apparent that the scales have tipped in his direction.
At the same time, Laid Out is not an effort without its drawbacks. As stated before, the record has a good deal of continuity with Shlohmo’s past efforts, and part of that includes his bad habits. Over the course of his discography, Laufer has struggled to recognize when an idea has been sufficiently explored. For instance, the Places EP offered four tracks, yet its title track was the only real takeaway. Bad Vibes felt encumbered by too many similar productions. Similarly, Laid Out would have benefitted from a truncated tracklist. Within the context of the EP, “Put It” feels like a less remarkable product of the same formula which yields “Later,” and the closing “Without” comes across like a half-hearted attempt to reach back to an earlier Shlohmo era, though its aimless six-minute run only succeeds in demonstrating that Laufer has moved on. Despite his stated goal to distill the elements of his work into more efficient building blocks, Laufer fails to apply that same sensibility to the way these ideas are being presented. On songs like “Don’t Say No” and “Later,” he sounds confident in his evolution as a producer, but the EP’s extraneous efforts call that same confidence into question and ultimately lessen the record’s impact. Make no mistake, Laid Out has its moments and certainly isn’t a misstep, but it could be called a sidestep; as such, it’s bound to raise questions about whether Shlohmo is capable of one day transcending the (admittedly high) standard set by his initial ouput.
If only because he’s been releasing quality music since age 15, it seems appropriate to tag Kyle Hall‘s forthcoming debut LP as a “long-awaited” release. Still, Hall doesn’t plan on keeping us waiting much longer, as the seven-track The Boat Party LP will drop sometime next month through the Detroit wunderkind’s own Wild Oats imprint. While there is no exact release date yet for the record, we do know that it will appear in double-LP format. The artwork and full tracklist, along with a preview stream of closing cut “Measure2Measure,” are below. (via Juno Plus)
Boris Bunnik is a man of many talents, and perhaps more notably, many names. Over the past several years, the Dutch producer has turned out a steady stream of quality music while operating under a number of monikers, including Conforce, Hexagon, and Versalife, amongst others. While all of his projects vary somewhat, Bunnik can always be counted upon to mine vintage electro for inspiration, a trend that continues on his first Versalife full-length, Vantage Point, which drops this week via Clone West Coast Series. Given the occasion, we invited Bunnik to put together an exclusive mix for the XLR8R podcast series. Clocking in at more than 77 minutes, it’s an expansive effort, one that finds Bunnik laying down 10-plus minutes of ambient weirdness before picking up the pace and straddling the line between propulsive electro and raw techno. As he weaves together classic drum-machine sounds, clicking rhythms, and grooving bits of acid, the mix eventually brings to mind the work of artists like DJ Stingray or Drexciya, both of who make appearances in the podcast. Clearly, Bunnik is in good company, and although this podcast may not stray too far from his personal artistic canon, it’s an excellent companion to his top-flight production work.
Slugabed‘s Activia Benz label is a few weeks away from dropping its third release, the C’Mon EP (artwork above) from Danish up-and-comer Eloq. Again, the label boss has offered up his own remix from the release to help spread the word (you can still grab his remix of Deech’s “Urnite” here), this time around injecting Eloq’s already rather grandiose track with a gorgeous assemblage of horn-like synths and bit-crushed melodies. After giving Slugabed’s refix a spin, you can peep the video for the original version of Eloq’s “C’mon” after the jump.
In celebration of an upcoming performance at Miami’s annual Winter Music Conference, Tiga’s Turbo imprint is releasing the cheekily named Turbo Miami Lifestyle (artwork above), a compilation featuring the likes of Locked Groove, Sei A, Tiga & Jori Hulkkonen, and DJ Sneak. We’re not sure if the title is meant as a joke or a legitimate gesture to appeal to Miami’s distinct brand of clubbing, but the collection of songs will feature appearances from Turbo veterans and newbies alike, as well as some “respected outsiders” (all of whom can be viewed in the tracklist below). The digital-only compilation will drop on March 18, three days after the Turbo showcase in Miami. Joining label dons Tiga and Thomas Von Party behind the decks will be longtime friends Pachanga Boys and Cómeme cohort Daniel Maloso. More information on the showcase can be found here.
Tracklist: 1. Shadow Dancer – Day By Day 2. Tiga & Jori Hulkkonen – Trust Your Body (Danny Daze Dub) 3. Locked Groove – Keep Thorough 4. Harvard Bass – Cream 5. Phil Kieran – Saturdays 6. Clouds – NR-3 Verl 7. Borderline – Make Me Crazy (In Flagranti Remix) 8. Duke Dumont – Street Walker (DJ Sneak Remix) 9. Sei A – I Know 10. Iron Galaxy & Sexlife – One Of Us 11. Locked Groove & Gingy – Shores
Autechre‘s roots in b-boy culture are mentioned with some frequency, but the group’s latest transmission gives us reason to reflect on the fact. Seeing Autechre’s career through the lens of breaks—as an extension of the duo’s early pause tapes—is bound to be an oversimplification, especially when we’re dealing with a body of work that’s so complex on the surface. And yet, it’s a point of view that seems to explain the relative consistency inaugurated by 2008’s Quaristice; despite the disorienting effect of new technology on the pair’s sound, it’s not hard to believe that Autechre’s basic mission has remained the same at its core over the past 20 years. While breaks are often canned loop fodder for many strands of rave music, Autechre has always preferred to home in on breaks’ disjunctive aspect; rather than looping a break to 4/4 infinity, the duo dives into and multiplies those ruptures with a researcher’s deliberateness.
It goes without saying, then, that the usual critical evaluation, with its multi-album narrative arc, is irrelevant in the face of such determinedly polymorphous music. By design, Exai is neither better nor worse than its immediate predecessors. What’s interesting about Autechre’s release schedule is that the pair lays low long enough for critics and listeners to forget what to expect, and it takes a beat to readjust to the fact that for all of the group’s putative futurism, it is not quite as enigmatic as it seems. A subtle but distinct development from the now three-year-old Oversteps is a renewed emphasis on rhythm. Where the previous album unfurled creepy, beautifully shrill Nord keys at a ceremonial pace, Exai focuses on spitting MIDI fire into Machinedrums. Melody and harmony are dealt with more obliquely, often mangled by gurning beats. “Cloudline” is simultaneously one of the album’s more evocative cuts and one of its most abstract, as disembodied synths howl over a brittle, desertlike landscape, hi-hats interrupt like rogue bits in a streaming video, and a globular bassline is birthed painfully in the strangely familiar, elemental environment. The pressure-funk of early album highlight “jatevee C,” on the other hand, is sputtering electro transplanted to an Antarctic weather station.
For the most part, Exai more consistently evokes the club than anything Autechre has done in the last decade—and while it’s still a very hypothetical club, it’s enough just to hear Autechre apply this kind of pressure over the fractured, melancholic substrate that pervaded its last two albums. And, as always, it’s a lot to take in; even after a dozen listens, the album’s too oblique to really register in the memory. That slipperiness does nothing to diminish the moments when things really stick, though. For instance, “1 1 is” refashions the pistoning sound-world of Tri Repetae as switch-flipping lowrider music, over which a coked-out melody trips over its own phrases, all before a stately final section concludes on a suspended, almost baroque tone.
Though fellow Bristolians Appleblim (pictured above) and Komonazmuk have teamed up before (producing remixes for Harmonia, The Black Ghosts, and Bonobo, to name just a few), the duo has announced its first official release, a two-track effort called “Gas Jam” b/w “Silencio.” The record is the first release this year for Appleblim’s Apple Pips imprint, though there is talk of future collaborations slotted for later in the year. In the meantime, these two tracks will be released on digital and 12″ on March 25.
A quick once-over of Toronto-based beatmaker Deebs‘ (pictured above) back catalog shows that the regular Pelican Fly and Melt contributor has an impressive resume when it comes to remixing. Unlike artists like Shlohmo, whose remixes often darken the mood and slow the tempo, Deebs packs his reworks with as many left turns as he can manage, while sticking close to the chemistry that makes his original tunes work. Rather than merely making a cosmetic facelifts or turning in an entirely original production in disguise, but Deebs’ efforts often land somewhere in the middle, drawing the spotlight to his own style while making sure the source material gets its due. His take on “Careful” by inc. is no exception. Over an engrossing four minutes, he lifts the original out of its nocturnal funk, throwing in swirls of rolling synths atop the original melodies while shuffling his drums like a deck of cards underneath.
Although the label is best known for its association with John Talabot, Catalonian imprint Hivern Discs has championed a variety of lesser-known artists, of which New Jackson is one. Sat Around Here Waiting is the Dublin producer’s follow-up to 2011’s The Night Mail, released by Bodytonic’s impressive POGO imprint. Listening back to that EP, it’s obvious what the Hivern camp heard in the music. David Kitt makes bassline-driven disco-house colored by Rephlex-style synth plaintiveness and a smudged, cosmic-pop sensibility. It’s a perfect fit for the label, which thrives on stewing these sorts of elements.
The title track is a convivial grower, led by a mystical, squiggly melody and a blurry, vocoded chant. Atop filtered-down tin percussion, the duo expertly nudges each part until its hooks are absolutely embedded. As a modern, more propulsive, and slightly less cheesy adaptation of Afro and cosmic sounds, it’s incredibly infectious. Fort Romeau and Pional acknowledge the original’s potency in their remixes, none of which are complete overhauls. Fort Romeau’s soaring house version adds bongos, jangly keys, and a more vigorous bassline, but the remaining melody and vocal keep it mostly inextricable from the original. Meanwhile, Pional contributes two similar remixes. The first ramps up the bassline and adds darting stabs, but again, elements of the original impose themselves, keeping it from transforming too much. The second, which only appears on the digital release, fares better. It comes across like a jacking dub version—those prominent original elements are abridged a bit, and come across as less anthemic in the presence of tweaky stab patterns, crafty percussion, and a flexible bassline. Finally, the digital release offers another New Jackson original in the form of “Below The Bridge.” The track is essentially a slow-motion disco groover, laced with a creeping bassline, sputtering arpeggios, and a sample intoning, “I’m hot for you.” Although it mines much sleazier territory than “Sat Around Here Waiting,” it too showcases the producer’s underlying strength for atmospheric, hook-laden pieces.
