The extra-prolific UK producer Ekoplekz and the recently minted Public Information label are a perfect match: both consistently release takes on esoteric, analog, and particularly British movements like BBC’s Radiophonic Workshop and early industrial. If you’ve heard any of Ekoplekz’s umpteen transmissions over the last year or two, you’ll know what to expect from Dromilly Vale, his debut for the label, which collects five beatless, grimy soundscapes.
“Dick Mills Blues” is weirdly elegiac, placing a splintery, spaced-out melody above a brooding undercurrent of warped bass and trails of delay. The title track is even more ominous, albeit with the same sort of structure — a forlorn progression repeating over a clanging, dubbed-out confusion of tones. The brief “Neutronik” is a shrill attack-and-release piece, while the lopsided “Jugglin’ Fer Jesus” is all bent, acidic lines and clusters of abrasive chirps. Finally, “Clayton Freak,” smothered in dust, feels in like it’s referencing some kind of yet-to-be-directed space western, its tapestry of bleeps seeming to soundtrack frazzled, wide-open frontiers. Again, Ekoplekz releases a lot of material, and while there are surely some obsessives out there checking it all out, it can be a consuming act for the casual listener to sift through and find the gems. Rest assured Dromilly Vale is one of them, showing the producer as strange and inimitable as ever.
