Roman Flügel “Even More” b/w “More&More&More”
If there isn’t already an excellent sports analogy for Roman Flügel, one needs to be […]
If there isn’t already an excellent sports analogy for Roman Flügel, one needs to be invented. The Frankfurt producer/DJ has been consistently unflashy and solid over a lengthy—especially by dance-music standards—career, and this is why he’s become a sort of unstuffy institution. It’s as if Flügel has built a modest home on the ridge where dancefloor prowess meets the art of crafting layered, schooled tracks; furthermore, he’s been too immersed in his work for much hype to stick to his strangely low-profile figure. Given these characteristics, Clone’s Jack for Daze imprint seems to be an ideal outlet for Flügel to flex his style-hopping muscles, and with “Even More” b/w “More&More&More,” he’s put together two stupidly effective and raw—yet giddily detailed—jack tracks.
Sonically, “Even More” and “More&More&More” bear Flügel’s signature plasticky sheen, but the clarity of the production only adds to their body-moving power. Listening to these two without moving requires conscious, itchy effort. Structurally, they’re not too different either, with each revolving around irresistibly angular drums and twitchy, rhythmic melody lines. The wrong-sounding plectrum wiggle that leads “Even More”‘s splashy snare-and-clap pattern is brilliantly dumb, winding up the track’s already coiled energy to a pressurized plateau. “More&More&More” favors a cheap and cheerful synth that runs up and down a scale as if it were a clown car’s novelty horn. Flanked by claps, ringing hi-hats, and generic pad stabs that sound like refrigerator noise, it’s even more of a bacchanal, ensuring that the sampled mantra, “work that body/move that body,” is completely redundant. The quality of the source material is further vetted by the Dutch powerhouse collaboration of Serge & Tyrell, who turn out three equally relevant remixes of the latter track alone. The most raucous has to be the flange-drenched “SBF325” mix, which ups the obviousness ante by quoting “Pump up the Jam.” On the “Work That Mix,” they add still more grease to the original’s joints, subtly extending the drum kit—it’s a simple enough tweak, but like everything else in this package, its effects are disproportionately exciting, making this much more than an exercise in one-note Chicago worship.