01. Gas, Nah und Fern [Kompakt] (buy)
It was only appropriate that Wolfgang Voigt would eventually start a label, Kompakt, whose intention was to keep every release in print. Before Nah und Fern, it bordered between difficult and near impossible to track down all of Voigt’s Gas albums. And considering their stature, it was difficult to imagine how they could have gotten lost to the wayside (RIP Mille Plateaux). But remastered and fully realized in a single package, Nah und Fern might be one of the biggest revelations of 2008. The ingredients to Gas — the drones, the de-tuned classical music, the gentle tap of a kick — don’t sound like much as ambient building blocks; their modesty is easy to get lost in. From the raw start of the self-titled through the nerve-wracked finale of Pop, there’s a unity and development between the four records. Voigt is never willing to repeat himself, but each track sounds like a compelling variation on the same template. My favorite variation is the last track on Königsforst. It’s probably different from yours.

02. Basic Channel, BCD-2 [Basic Channel] (buy)
In a year steeped in the resurgence of dub-techno, Basic Channel’s second CD compilation couldn’t have come out at a better time. Eschewing the dubbed out seascapes found on their debut compilation, BCD-2 cherry-picks Mark Ernestus and Moritz Von Oswald’s full-speed-ahead techno releases. It’s a welcome wrinkle to the Basic Channel mythology where “faceless techno bollocks” always seemed to de-emphasize the techno part for the appreciation of Basic Channel’s faceless aesthetic. BCD-2 contains so many of Basic Channel’s highlights — the onslaught of “Enforcement,” the prickles of “Octagon,” and the momentum of “Phylyps Track II/III” — that it’s hard not to be simply thankful for the care in transferring this work to CD. It almost makes you not miss the original’s vinyl crackle.

03. Pole, 1 2 3 [~scape] (buy)
There’s a tendency to talk about Pole’s work as aural illusions. Stefan Betke’s scrapes, pops and crackles refashion the inadvertent effects of technology into purposeful affects of depth. As much as Pole defined the glitch movement when he first released the monochromatic-trilogy of 1, 2, and 3, this collection of his seminal releases never sounds as dated as you’d expect in 2008. It might be how far Betke dubbed his techno or how many creases he imprinted onto the Basic Channel blueprint. If Basic Channel emphasized vinyl’s warm texture with their compositions, Betke ripped those sounds apart for the digital age. And if the intervening decade has proven anything, it is that Pole’s innovations were too big to forget.

04. Various Artists, FXHE: Collected [FXHE Records] (buy)
Soundhack, Soundkit EP [Soundhack] (buy)
First things first: FXHE: Collected and the reissue of Soundhack’s “Soundkit EP” are necessary deals with the devil. FXHE: Collected comes with a sub-title “Vinyl classics now digital” and “Soundkit EP” originally came from Hard Wax, whose first foray into CDs had “Buy Vinyl!” emblazoned on it. But after another difficult year for distributors (RIP Neuton, among others), 2008 might be the year when even vinyl-only labels were forced to recognize the importance of the digital format. Thankfully, FXHE: Collected is a fine introduction to the label and owner, Alex (Omar-S)mith. Beginning with FXHE’s 2008 highlights “Psychotic Photosynthesis” and “The Further You Look – The Less You’ll See,” the compilation touches upon past glories like “Day” and “The Grand Son of Detroit Techno.” “Soundkit EP” sounds just as fresh; Soundhack’s (aka Frank Timm) avant-glitch-dance music might have anticipated The Field’s melody drenched loops (“Scraper”), but the funk foundations of “Double Hammer” and “Funkyrule” hit the hardest. The two releases also show off what’s changed in the digital landscape — both are distributed as ‘Beatport Exclusives.’

05. Quiet Village, Silent Movie [Studio !K7] (buy)
Quiet Village is a conceptual music project from the duo of Matt Edwards and Joel Martin. They began by releasing their singles on Whatever We Want, which for all practical purposes, doubles as contemporary art factor, peddling pieces of vinyl scarce and in demand enough to command large sums of money almost instantly upon release. Because Quiet Village is conceptual, they do “live shows” where they play the CD of Silent Movie with an accompanying montage of cult movies. Because Quiet Village is conceptual, they release “compilations” where they re-edit old songs and claim the new songs as their own. You might not know it, but Silent Movie reissues lost gems from artists like Alan Parsons, Trade Mark, and Giorgio Moroder, all re-edited and finely honed. In other words, Silent Movie is a schlocky, bad taste update on Endtroducing. And with the popularizing of re-edits, which has seen their role shift from “for friends only” to “thousands of clamoring fans,” Silent Movie might be the best example of how ownership is playing out in 2008, with artists trying to cover their legal bases and claiming they “wrote” all their re-edits.

[Third Ear Recordings]

A lot of modern dub techno practitioners, especially during this recent popularity boom, tend to rely too heavily on the play books written by the Basic Channel/Chain Reaction family and not enough on their own ingenuity. South African ex-pat and long-time NYC resident has never seemed too bound to that template as suggested by his work as Beat Pharmacy, Echologist and more recently under his own name. Last year he turned a number of heads with the “Jazz Space EP” on Third Ear Recordings, a gritty four tracker with dirt under its dubby fingernails and a sparse allotment of tone color, wringing the melodic pleasure out of every last distorted note.

Listen to “N-Train”:

“One Man’s Junk…” is the second of three Third Ear EPs which constitute an album later this year. Here he’s a little less frugal with melody, offering up another four tracks which are conceptually lucid and stunningly colorful, perhaps more so than in any of his previous self titled work. The bounding bass patterns and tightly looped guitar plucks of “N-Train,” a cool and collected deep house mover, lead the pack and suck in unexpectedly interested listeners. The title cut dives into a friction-friendly mess of house rhythms and rasping textures; don’t be surprised if you come out the other end with smoother skin. Moeller hints at an underground river of melody beneath noise stretched and warped beyond recognition on “Changes.” He even dares to get jazzy on closer “Stinkin’ Thinkin’,” dappled with placid piano plinks, upright bass runs and a harmonica’s swoon reverberating breathlessly across its nine minutes. Moeller proves simply unafraid to experiment.

Listen to “Changes”:

Brendon Moeller’s Third Ear EPs have solidified in my mind that he’s one of the most interesting producers working in the dub techno/house paradigm today. “One Man’s Junk” is a must buy record for those who enjoy hearing the building blocks of the genre shaken up before being loosed on the dance floor.