[Groovement]

In an interview from 2010, Ka§par referred to his music as “out of the norm” and cited his Portuguese residence as a contributing factor that kept him from breaking through. In this day and age, geographic location plays less of a role in deciding artist viability than the former. Ka§par’s style is nominally house, but walks an interesting and perhaps paradoxical line of jazzy chords and shuffling percussion with club-friendly effects and occasionally vocal driven. His recent Ode To The Ancients EP stays close to that course but offers some intriguing bypasses, as well.

The title track is highlighted by a moody chord progression, vocal calls that sound like bird squawks, and dense, clattering percussion before a spacey breakdown and rebuild occurs. It feels familiar, but the percussive intricacies and a wobbly bass set it apart. On “Twin Sparkle,” Ka§par provides a more utilitarian track, using an analog bass line reminiscent of early Chicago house, seesawing hi-hats, and melisma-like vocals from himself. The lead synth melody and the vocal usage are memorable but the stabs and derivative bass don’t do it any favors. “Able To Find,” on the flip, evokes an altogether different vibe, incorporating a stuttered, syncopated rhythm, syrupy Rhodes and a whistling synth melody. Promo descriptions have referred to it as “post-dubstep,” but with a soulful vocal it bears greater resemblance to earlier broken beat styling. Ross McMillan, working as Carlos Nilmmns, delivers a remix of “Able To Find” which lands in a luscious deep house grotto. He heavily processes the vocal until it sounds like slurred alien speak, adds spacey atmospherics and employs a sluggish rhythm that moves from raw, minimal percussion to a clattering hi-hat and snare boogie. It’s the layered piano lines brought in during the breakdown, however, that raise this remix to great heights. It’s a short segment late in the track, but the jazzy soloing demands attention and stays rooted in your head long afterward. The Ode To The Ancients EP seems to prove that Ka§par’s strongest tracks are those which buck convention.

[Lunar Disko]

If you happened to catch Santiago Salazar’s Soul Communications mix over two years ago, you would have heard him open it with Raiders of the Lost Arp’s “Night Theme.” At the time it was a test pressing, slated for release on Salazar and Esteban Adame’s Ican Productions imprint, but the record didn’t materialize. Today, the track has managed to find a new home on Dublin label Lunar Disko Records. And while we will never quite know how the original release would have been packaged, it’s clear it was worth the wait. Italian producer Mario Pierro has primarily focused on science fiction themes throughout his use of the Raiders of the Lost Arp moniker, creating an impressive amalgam between Italo, funk and Detroit techno that recently took a left turn into quotidian deep house release on Snuff Trax. On the Battlestar EP, Pierro returns to form, most notably with the aforementioned “Night Theme.”

It begins with a stripped-down kick propelling an initial sequence of wide, warbling synth chords that allude to a romanticized vision of the future. It’s the type of direct, expressive and panoramic melody that can cause fits of air synth to occur. It breaks down into a series of interstellar sonic effects before a drum fill takes us back to the main melody with a newfound ride cymbal and snare that give it a jazzy rhythm. “Lunar Lander” begins with dry snare and jingling cowbells before layering lilting female vocals over an arpeggio bass line. The airy pads provide a spacey atmosphere, but they are overshadowed by the vocal’s conspicuous and occasionally clashing key signatures. Rude 66 utterly transforms both tracks in his remixes, slowing both way down and dragging them into a darker, New Beat tract. His “Forever Darkness Remix” of “Night Theme” is particularly effective, starting off with humming synth bass tones that are paired with the original’s melody transmuted to a choral phrasing, creating an evocative backdrop for a booming bass rhythm, staccato acid notes and sporadic vocoder usage. It rounds off this release very well, offering a completely different interpretation of what a “night” can represent.

[W.T. Records]

For what is Alex Israel’s first physical 12″, a confident versatility is displayed which compliments the already heterogeneous back catalog of W.T. Records. It will most likely be classified in the deep house bins, but Walking To Guntersville covers so much more ground that labeling it something so banal is insulting. While the two B-side tracks with a quick needle flip could pass for house, closer inspection draws more nuanced and vibrant appraisals as Israel feels comfortable drawing from all parts of the globe and beyond. “Nkisi” uses organ, dusty horn and rhythm guitar samples to lay the groundwork before unveiling an African vocal and subtle acid and synth filigree. He continues the use of acid in “Bindlestiff” but keeps it as accompanying element, letting it bubble away without becoming overpowering. The rest of the track carries on by introducing soulful male vocals that impart a blues-y feel among tight bass work, hand drum percussion, and a vibraphone-like melody. At times it seems like the entire kitchen sink is in play but it’s tastefully done to create richness rather than cloyingness.

The title track moves at a slow, ambling pace with heavy reverb and delayed 808 percussion, giving the impression of a slow-mo jack track, but instead it goes all smooth using velvety pads and shimmering synth lines. It’s got deep Detroit techno written all over it, but at its slowed tempo it may find favor with a wider audience. The story behind “GAZ 13″ is an interesting one that began as an unfinished track by Etiku Dancer. He passed it to Israel who took the hi-hats and a synth sound and re-fashioned it to his liking (oddly though, there is no credit given on the actual 12″). The result is a gorgeous piece of funky techno replete with finger snaps, walking-talking bass line, piano flourishes, haunting strings and a lovely spiraling keyboard arpeggio. Israel isn’t afraid to show his diverse taste in music and if that means using the whole enchilada, so be it.

[NRK Sound Division]

If your only point of reference for Global Communication is a 76 minute and 14 second long ambient album that is 17 years old, you may not be prepared for this two-CD mix. The duo of Mark Pritchard and Tom Middleton may well be most famous for their sole album as GC, but they wore many hats before and after; coming up with futuristic techno mutations as Reload, electro funk revivalists as The Jedi Knights and deep house under the Secret Ingredients banner. And if you’re coming at electronic music from a current perspective their separate endeavors — Middleton’s big-room remixes and Pritchard’s experimental hip-hop as Harmonic 313 — it may make this release even more bewildering. This installment in the Back In The Box series widens its aperture, offering a look into what was their modus operandi during the early 90′s: melodic, spacey, and insistently funky techno. It’s essentially a look at what they were measuring themselves against and spinning during their burgeoning production years.

After a quick nod to the aforementioned album, a combination of the “global communication” multi-lingual delivery and the tick-tock pulse of “Ob-Selon Mi-Nos,” the first disc fixes aim on the floor by starting with some classic Detroit techno productions. Trademark sounds aplenty: Kevin Saunderson’s menacing Reese bass line and come-hither whispered vocals on “Just Want Another Chance,” Carl Craig’s emotive chords and tough breakbeats with “Galaxy,” while Derrick May’s team up and remix of System 7′s “Altitude” pairs Steve Hillage’s dreamy guitar work against stomping 909 kicks and crashes. On “Technotropic” Richie Hawtin, under his early F.U.S.E. alter-ego, delivers angular bass notes and staccato drum mechanics before a breakdown of oceans waves, digital seagulls and soaring chords that show a side rarely seen since. They build the intensity with a series of harder hitting techno salvos from Lory D, Neuropolitique and DHS before lightening the air with a pitched up edit by Middleton of Speedy J’s lush breaks and bass track, “De-Orbit.” From there the moody quotient is raised considerably with classic techno complexity in the form of Balil’s “Nort Route” and Florence’s “A Touch Of Heaven,” while the oft overlooked “True Feelings” by Flux makes good use of soaring strings and a rubbery DX100 bass line. The blends are solid but not all that long, often relying on a heavy delay of the outgoing track to create the transition. The first CD concludes with the aquatic-acid and whale samples of Robert Leiner’s “Aqua Viva,” showcasing rather heavily the affinity for organic sounds used in electronic music from this period.

The second disc opens with a digitized rundown of the influential labels of the era running into the first track, “Flow Charts” by Ismistik. It sets the tone for the mix, as GC focus on more emotional techno and ambient selections. Far too many highlights to shake a stick at as the elegiac synths, crisp drum programming and analog circuitry are in full display on tracks from Stasis, Reel By Real, and Ross 154. The duo don’t spare much time mixing the music, instead segueing between tempos and moods in a way that recalls the side chill out rooms they played at UK parties. It doesn’t always work as evidenced between an awkward transition between As One’s “Amalia” and Aphex Twin’s “Tha,” but with a clever edit sequence added to some it works quite well. It also allows the majority of each track to play through, proving how musically impressive they are. The mix ends somewhat lukewarmly with The Irresistible Force remix of “Barbarella,” an unremarkable ambient track that is too fluffy by comparison to the preceding 32 tracks. The liner notes, written by long-time UK music journalist Kris Needs, and comments by the duo themselves provide a firsthand reference into the background of each selection. Reading through it feels like a trip down memory lane, but if you had any doubts as to the veracity of the gushing recollections, the mix will set you straight. What Pritchard and Middleton have given us is not a history lesson to be schooled on; they’ve shared a mix that feels personal and lives up to the emotional expressionism they originally set out to create.

[Rush Hour Recordings]

What is anonymity worth in today’s vinyl market? You would think it would have slipped since the ’90s when UR, Basic Channel and the like carved out a strong identity using the antithetical approach of leaving all in the dark. Yet it seems like the public is still clamoring for a taste of what they do not fully know. This couldn’t be truer if you look at the path so many white labels (Wax, Skudge, Traversable Wormhole, etc.) have taken in recent years. Add another to the list with MD’s It Ain’t What It Used To Be. Released by Rush Hour with artwork by J. T. Stewart aka $tinkworx, one could easily assume that this is a well orchestrated cover up, but ultimately that doesn’t help shed any insight into the release’s provenance.

While the A-side’s “It Ain’t What It Ain’t” may riff on Rhythim Is Rhythim (“It Is What It Is”) in its title, it is another Detroit mainstay that invites comparison in terms of the music. Ascending synth arpeggios, prismatic strings and rippling 303s set the stage for an uplifting techno whirlwind reminiscent of the style of early Red Planet releases. What’s different is how quickly the track develops, wasting no time in announcing its purpose, to simultaneously raise heartbeats and tug on heartstrings. It may not scream originality in its retro-tinged execution, but the sheer amount of energy packed into four minutes is sure to leave some hairdos singed. “Megalopolitan Soul” heads in an opposite direction, laying down a deep house ditty that stands out from so much of the style’s current output. It works a juicy bass line and a soulful vocal hook to great effect, playing the two off each other before layering in a funky Moog synth line to give it an improvised feel. Loose percussion of crisp claps, riding hi-hats and distantly placed hand drums add to the live feel of the track. What’s most impressive is again the amount of musical elements fit into the space of “Megalopolitan Soul,” as if every square inch requires a necessary detail. Which, if true, then this ghost writer produces a masterstroke leaving no “t” uncrossed or “i” un-dotted.

[Nowar]

It would’ve been easy to write off Leonid Nevermind after his first few initial attempts at production resulted in easily forgotten minimal tech-house. Three years on and Leonid’s Light Is Here EP appears to be a major course correction pushing him in the right direction. The Spanish producer may have been just trying to get his foot in the door, but he would have been much better served having debuted with this 12″ for Nowar. This release shows a matured side to Leonid, going deeper with melodic structuring and surprisingly an eagerness to stretch himself by exploring multiple stylistic contours.

“The Unexplored Land Of Love” is proof of that as a slap bass merges smoothly with a series of funky keyboard lines which exude strong funk and boogie leanings. And with a sly filter usage and moody pads, it’s a winning formula that sounds light years from his early productions. “Thymus Stimulator” starts off with equal promise, deep techno with ample cosmic synth eddies and what sounds like an arcing cat’s meow before edging into passages of blues and jazz-inspired melody lines. It shows ambition but at times feels forced. On “Feel” he pairs it back and focuses on a hazy organ sample, dubby stabs and clipped bass line to propel his take on deep house, finishing it off with a distended vocal sample of the title. Not immediately gripping but over time it reveals its charms. The title track closes out this release with a laid back approach to house. An insistent dusty triangle coupled with an echoing harp and bluesy harmonica emanations, not that far off from Brendon Moeller’s Jazz Junk Safari material. But the old west atmosphere is belied by a punchy kick, crinkling percussion and a brief contorted bass sequence. Leonid may not have raised any eyebrows the first few times out, but the Light Is Here EP should help change that and show he’s not who we thought he was either.

[Ojo de Apolo]

While Jorge Cortés’ Ojo de Apolo label may not get the kind of press another renowned Chilean label garners, it has slowly been picking up steam by moving in an entirely different direction. Cortés’ approach stems from a conscious effort to reach out beyond the South American country’s small house scene and tap into a global network of other like-minded artists. But maybe more importantly is an aesthetic that steers away from the region’s inherent tropical, ethno-tribal leanings to focus on deep, minimal house and techno. And with a recent 12″ by Reggie Dokes and remixes from Kai Alce and Hauke Freer on two previous releases, the label’s scope has begun to migrate to even deeper terrain. This newest release strikes a path somewhere between the label’s early minimal techno and its newer deep house sounds.

After the Detroit house-centric Más Música on Matrix in 2009, Cortés returns under the Jorge C alias to expand his take on deep house. “Up Up Up” is a bouncy rhythmic track delving into percussive sleight of hand as it changes patterns between measures. A repeating series of keyboard melodies and a springy wah-wah effect add slightly to the bass and rhythm textural exchange, but a final pay off is never achieved. On “A Little Beat,” Cortés takes up a similar tact but employs a more pronounced sub-bass, shimmering open hi-hats and delayed cowbell to develop the groove. But it isn’t until the breakdown and a build up that the track really takes off, building the intensity of the rhythm, highlighting the Rhodes organ and bringing the bass line up in the mix to create a rewarding interplay.

Terre Thaemlitz’s “The World Is Over DJ Sprinkles Megamix” is appropriately transported to the DJ Sprinkles sonic universe while managing to retain some of the major elements of the original track. Where Thaemlitz diverges is by extending it to nearly 16 minutes and introducing a kaleidoscopic piano melody in the first couple minutes that has a great fluidity, enveloped by soaring pads, before stripping it down to the original’s Rhodes echoing chords, flittering hi-hats and rotund sub-bass pulse. A series of classic and urgent vocal samples provide a touchstone to Thaemlitz’s own oeuvre and ends up sitting comfortably next to the dynamic rhythm flow. The mix may seem too long to some but there is an amazing cohesiveness to it that mirrors much of her own productions and compliments the original. With more well thought out collaborations like this, Cortés’ label may well change perceptions on what it means to put out records in the southern hemisphere.

[Aesthetic Audio]

Last time we saw Keith Worthy’s Aesthetic Audio delving into the various artists 12″ format it was the continuation of the Underground Anthems series done in collaboration with Sistrum Recordings earlier that same year. Since then the two Detroit labels seem to have been working in parallel pushing the city’s house sound into further realms of raw and atmospheric intensity. And coincidentally, four years later both labels’ next various artists release come at roughly the same time, although completely unrelated.

Abstract Art Vol. 1 features Worthy himself, and also two new names to the label who are very likely unknown to even the most dedicated house/techno heads. Polish producer Michal Wierzchowski starts off “Deep Roots” with vague tribal chanting before leaping into twisting synth arpeggios and sustained chords, its clattering metallic percussion and muffled kicks adding generously to the frenetic, jumpy energy of the track. In what appears to be his first signed production, Nick Agha’s “Climates” heads steadfast down the deep house route with a well-executed but fairly predictable conclusion. On the other hand, Worthy’s contribution, “The Dark Symphony,” takes on a rougher, techno feel keeping an adjacency to Wierzchowski’s production. Calling on a raw flanged bass line reminiscent of one used on last year’s excellent “Rockit Science,” its synthetic patterns bounce through sullen chord phrasing and bristling keyboard melodies to create a moody techno mover. With such strong statements of purpose as the two A-side tracks, Abstract Art Vol. 1 starts this fresh series with a firecracker bang.

[Night Gallery]

Dijkhuis’ Dijkhuis #1 is the debut release on the newly-minted Night Gallery label founded by Little White Earbuds writer Kuri Kondrak and Shawn Kralicek. Although the identity of Dijkhuis is unknown except for the clues provided in the attendant press release which claims it’s an established producer operating incognito, what’s clear is that he or she is comfortable working with a variety of styles.

“Hotel #19″ is a creeping, largely beatless kosmische-style track. It’s appropriately minimal, and the largely unchanging synthesizer pattern is the main focal point here, though an operatic sample does make its way in to heighten the sense of drama. While well-composed, it’s slightly at odds with the house experiments on the tracks that follow. “You Can Bring It” begins with some preset rave stabs, which, considering how untreated they are, seem like an ill omen. Luckily, they fade comfortably into the background as a rough, beatdown house arrangement emerges, along with a chopped-up vocal and snaking, hoover-ish synth line. A beatdown homage to rave motifs is a novel if strange idea, but when all its elements are firing at once, it actually works. Finally, “My Love Is…” is a dynamic, cleanly executed house tune, led by a refrain of the phrase, “my love is a lie,” and an adjoining passage of ambiguous spoken word. Its playful synth squiggles and the pronounced funk of its bass line should endear it to followers of the more party-ready end of the house spectrum. While it may lack a clear direction, Dijkhuis #1 hardly suffers from a lack of ideas and showcases a producer who stands to further capitalize on that inherent unpredictability.

[Downbeat]

When an artist all but drops off the face of the Earth it’s very easy to forget about them. That 12″ or two gathering dust in our collections are one of few reminders of their talent, seemingly wasted on a career in banking, dentistry or whatever other field pulled them away from music. This was essentially DaRand Land’s story. His first few releases arrived on Chris Gray’s Deep4Life imprint and featured an inspiring blend of atmospheric house and tough bass lines. But after an attempt at starting the Sound Principle label didn’t quite pan out, Land seemed to disappear. After several years and a cross-country move, Land finally set up his studio again and Foregrounds And Backgrounds for Downbeat finds the producer picking up right where he left off.

“Think-ing” starts the 12″ off with crisp, shuffling rhythms, a tugging bass pulse and weightless pads that are highlighted by a delayed female vocal sample (“I was just thinking about you”), her tender utterances imparting a dreamy effect. “More Than Roots” take a similar path but focuses more on the melodic cushioning before bringing in a clipped vocal and acid line to take it in a new direction. The brief “Interlude — 3 of Me” is an interesting diversion using many of the same elements but enters at a slower pace, seemingly better suited for an album. The collaboration with Jose Lau on “Glowing Night (Lau Meets Land)” is fairly sparse but somehow manages to stay memorable with its deep house form. “Middlesex (D4L Edit)” utilizes a rippling analogue bass line and flowing synths before a jazz-inflected keyboard sequence and warm chords reveal the greater depth in Land’s house sound, simultaneously tipping its hat to his former label’s defining sound. Foregrounds And Backgrounds meets somewhere in the middle of Land’s past and future, putting him right where he needs to be: back on the map.