[Dial]

Though he sports one of the less memorable names in house music (as compared to, say, “Black Jazz Consortium,” “Mr. Fingers,” or “Sascha Dive”), John Roberts possesses one of the most distinctive and individualistic sounds of the moment. His tracks are wonders of acoustic sound and digital grid structure, of quirky detail and suffusive mood, of widescreen scope and hand-lettered modesty. All of which has made him the torch-bearer of the day for Hamburg’s Dial Records. “Mirror” finds that torch in good hands indeed.

The dusty organ stabs and the outer-space synth melodies would situate the EP’s opening, title track squarely in deep house territory, were it not for the clacking drum sticks (à la ESG) and whimsical slide-whistle accents (à la bad luck on Wheel of Fortune). Two parts sultry funk to one part abstract pop assemblage, the incongruous flavors don’t so much blend as complement each other to memorable effect. Similarly, the brooding piano on “Pruned” plunges into epic retrospection through an interplay of evocative samples that feel like cinematic references, from feudal drums to whistling cowboys. Solemn soundtrack music with a determined beat, it isn’t enough to say that “Pruned” is unlike any other house track I’ve heard this year — this is only incidentally dance music.

Sandwiched between those two exemplary tracks, “Maroon” is my preferred pull from the EP. Here, heart-quickening shifts between reserved, muffled kick drums and crisp, enlivened snares inject expectant tension into a drowsy network of samples — the twilit hum of crickets, some radioed vocals, and an arcade bouncing effect (think Pong on a stalled-out Atari). But it’s the weary keyboard melody, which touches on the the Boards of Canada play book, that gives 2009 one of its most touched, tender songs of any genre. Roberts’ MySpace page cites “slow motion dancing” as his lone influence. Certainly that image pairs well with the track’s mesmerizing slow-burn (and practically begs for a YouTube fan video). But it’s also a bit disingenuous, dismissing a surrender to sentiment that, on “Maroon” at least, means the difference between a well-crafted mood and actual poignancy.