At this point in Hans-Peter Lindstrøm’s musical career, audiences know he can go the distance. The Norwegian producer first cruised over the ramparts of Oslo’s relatively small music scene and into DJs’ crates on the backs of lengthy, interstellar disco grooves made for heaving dance floors. Collaborating with compatriot Prins Thomas on their self-titled and II albums, the pair refined extended jam sessions into still sizable explorations of the spaces between funk, prog, and Kraut rock at Balearic tempos. And then there was Lindstrøm’s 2008 opus, Where You Go I Go Too, whose three elongated movements streamlined into one epic excursion through the hyper-colorful depths of his creative vision, rendered with a grandiosity redolent of Vangelis. Going long has its drawbacks as well, like relegating Lindstrøm to niche markets too narrow for such a multi-talented musician. The dilemma he faces, then, is showing he can be concise while maintaining the appealing traits teased out of his lengthier tracks. With long-time collaborator Christabelle by his side, Lindstrøm tackles that challenge on their new full-length, Real Life Is No Cool.
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Pawel, Pawel
Among the trio of friends — Lawrence, Carsten Jost, Pawel — who founded the Dial label in Hamburg 10 years ago, the latter, Paul Kominek has probably kept the lowest profile, despite being the more senior in terms of release history. Recording as Turner for the defunct Ladomat 2000 since 1998, he received remixes from the likes of Robert Hood, Isolée and Freaks, as well as recording four albums worth of curate’s eggs: Lukin Orgel, Disappearing Brother, A Pack Of Lies and 2005’s Slow Abuse. While Turner albums are characterised by often effete vocals and a home-listening aesthetic, Pawel is the first long-player recorded by Kominek for his dance floor alias.
Scuba, Sub:stance
It’s hard to resist beginning any discussion of an Ostgut Ton release — be it a single, album, or mix compilation — without discussing the room from which its artist ostensibly drew his or her inspiration. Berghain, with its veritable pipe organ of Funktion One stacks pushing sweaty air into lofty post-industrial buttresses, is particularly susceptible to this line of thinking. As evidenced by the sandpaper highs and sucker-punch lows adopted by just about anyone who’s been at (or looking to get their records to) the club’s helm, Berghain begs producers to push its acoustic buttons in extremely particular ways.
Reagenz, Playtime
Improvisation. In house? Sure, DJs do it every night. Move D did it before with Benjamin Brunn on Songs From The Beehive, creating sketches beforehand but recording everything in more or less real time. Plenty of parallels exist between that record and Playtime but none are quite so telling as this. To be frank, I don’t know if the recording of Playtime was actually in real time or improvised, but this is a release whose unfolding seems so natural and human it seems unlikely that it’s the work of automation. Many complain about the lack of musicianship in house and techno, and Playtime serves, in part, as a solid response to such silly claims.
Greg Wilson, Credit to the Edit 2
There’s something about the name Greg Wilson that tends to inspire awe in even the most hardened of musos: His legendary turns DJing and creating re-edits from reel to reel tapes through to spreading the sounds of electro-funk throughout Manchester via his 1983 residency at The Haçienda. That’s combined with his abandonment of DJing at his pinnacle to concentrate on producing the likes of the once timely Ruthless Rap Assassins and Yello. As one would expect, he made a rather loud return to the fray in early ’00s during the heady days of nu-disco, dropping the killer LP, Credit to The Edit, on Tirk. Consisting of hand cut edits a la 1983, one saw a number of tracks which harked back to the ’70s and ’80s. Cuts such as Chaka Khan’s “I Feel For You,” “I Can’t Turn The Boogie Loose” by the Controllers and “Rockers Revenge” all made an appearance, complete with the excellent, seams ‘n all cuts and bounces. The LP was such as classic that after speaking to one of the Tirk chaps, apparently it’s still shifting units today. CTTE 2, however, is something of a different breed — as if Wilson’s been fully updated with the contemporary technology and his forays back onto the dance floor have provided him with some new inspiration.
BBH: V/A, Detroit: Beyond the Third Wave
There have been plenty of Detroit techno compilations over the years; True People would probably rate as my favorite for its sheer comprehensiveness and myriad pieces of vinyl, though its spot at number one has often been contested in my mind by this compilation on Astralwerks which came out the same year in 1996. Packed with ten tracks of exclusive material from the creme of Detroit’s third wave of techno producers, it showcases their many different sides, from deep and hypnotic through to raw, jacking soul and clinical, electro funk. Though many of the producers on the album were familiar to me already, there were others like Ectomorph, Will Web, and Mode Selector I was discovering for the first time. Throughout it all can be heard strains from their mentors mixed in with the new directions in which these younger guns were taking the music.
Anthony “Shake” Shakir, Frictionalism 1994-2009
When reviewing Anthony “Shake” Shakir’s first release in four years last April, I quoted an interview in which Shakir described himself as “the forgotten man of techno.” I wonder how he feels about that statement now. The record reviewed, “Levitate Venice” ended up in any year-end list worth reading (including LWE’s), and was widely played and supported by artists and DJs from across the electronic music world, from Ben UFO to Ben Klock. Following up this renewal of interest in Shake’s work, and perhaps conscious of the inflated prices his music was beginning to fetch on the second-hard market, comes this full-fat retrospective from the good folk at Rush Hour. In the past, the Dutch label have given the anthology treatment to Rick Wade, Daniel Wang and Kenny Larkin amongst others, but never before in such exhaustive fashion.
Lerosa, Dual Nature
Releasing a debut album on a TDK cassette only format limited to just 100 copies seems like a peculiar career move for an ascending electronic artist. And for someone like Lerosa, collaborating with Further for the release is even more puzzling. Since 2005, Lerosa aka Leopoldo Rosa has established himself with a string of critical 12″s that could be declared loosely as house, but have incorporated stylistic markers that span from acid and techno to jazz and electro. Stamped with a quirky identity, Rosa’s productions may nominally fit the deep house billing their often filed under but there’s much more hinting at expression. On the other hand, the newly formed Further label has established itself with digital-only releases that are aimed at progressive house and the trance end of techno audiences. In other words, adding Lerosa to the roster stands out like a sore thumb. But according to Rosa, the release and format was a deliberate move by the label owner to allow for more freedom to the artist, less financial risk by label while still producing a tangible object, which Dual Nature accomplishes.
Martyn, Fabric 50
We all know about the current state of mix CDs. Fabric, however, stands strong in the face of adversity with milestone release number 50. Fabric has cemented its position as one of the mix CD series of all time, not only for its longevity but for containing classics like editions 13 (Michael Mayer), 36 (Ricardo Villalobos) and 39 (Robert Hood), just to name a few. How the London club would celebrate release number 50 was a source of much speculation, and their choice of Martyn was both an inspired and daring one. Shaking up the rigid 4/4 that has defined pretty much every Fabric CD, Martyn’s dubstep sensibilities and love for techno breathe fresh air into a series that has struggled to maintain its cutting edge cachet.