[Crème Organization]

In terms of hidden Internet gems — of which there aren’t many remaining nowadays — William Burnett’s WTBS radio program ranks amongst the most rewarding. Two hours of confidently oscillating selections, the show appears every Monday at noon on Newtown Radio, and shortly thereafter on his W.T. Records’ SoundCloud page. Arriving on a day of the week where people are most susceptible to being disarmed, it aims to accomplish as much, moving amongst an unquantifiable spread of genres with the only unifying trait being their off color. In the context of Burnett’s own catalog, it makes sense. Burnett’s productions as Willie Burns only ever dealt in house, but that’s to use the term in its most cringe-inducing blanket sense. Almost always in the form of four- or five-track EPs, his releases play like compilations from various artists, whether for L.I.E.S., Trilogy Tapes, or Crème Organization, as expansive as the one before it. This most recent EP, again working with that latter Dutch imprint as Willie Burns, proves no different: four paranoia-tinged offerings, only united in their blithely off-hand composition.

Whether intentional or not, Run From The Sunset grows more tumultuous by the track, beginning bare and wrapping submerged. Dribbling out the gate, “Pong In A Tracksuit” is perhaps the most oddly appropriate song title of the year. A standard kick-clap pairing frames the background while an unhurried synth skims the top. Its only momentum is the result of that plop progressing from paced to double-time and still, every time that switch occurs the impact feels weighty within the surroundings. “No Answer” is sunroom trance, with any rigor alleviated from its loose-limbed construct. The builds drift until they burn themselves out, allowing the dial-toned bleeps to slide sleepily through. The title track plays like a weightier combo of the aforementioned thanks to the dampened drum programming. Though the least essential of the pack, it still bears an unyielding sense of dread. However fair the included components, there’s still a perched aura that things could spiral out of hand quickly, ideal fodder for the moment in a set just prior to when things actually do. And as previously mentioned, “Touch The Light” causes the most commotion of the bunch, by a wide margin. Eschewing any attempt at an intro, it emerges mid-headrush, with the cloaked drums serving as a faint reminder this is actually a track and not the sounds heard the moment before being stricken with a bout of vertigo. Given his free-form approach to seemingly everything, there’s no sense in attempting to qualify this release amongst Burnett’s prior oeuvre. It sure feels like he’s hitting a stride. But knowing him, it’ll be an entirely different stride come next Monday.