[Shevchenko]

With Vakula having firmly established his faultless Shevchenko label via three killer self-penned releases, he throws over control of number four in the catalog to Edinburgh’s Linkwood. No stranger to effusive, late night house maneuvers, Linkwood provides three tracks full of his signature blend of disco, house and boogie that also serve as lighter relief from the moodier strains of Vakula’s own productions for the label so far.

Heavily filtered chords distorted to the point of abstraction lead the charge on the title track, forming a sort of nucleus for the other musical elements to group themselves around. These gradually emerge in the form of insidious, occasionally fingered bass notes, off-beat high hats and ascendant, sharper sounding chords periodically appearing in the mix. “Between Me & You” could easily be a remix of “Secret Value,” its sounds and melodies sounding so closely linked it’s hard to remember which track is which. If it is a remix, then “Between Me & You” is the dub, its tone slightly darker, more intense, signposted by the obvious Echoplex-like delays.

“Ignorance Is Bliss” takes a different approach, paring back the filtered rhythms and imbuing itself with the spirit of an early 90′s Strictly Rhythm release, its rising bass line sounding for all the world like it was beamed in directly from a George Morel or Aly-Us track. Wooden blocks sound off in a call and response echo to each other in the distance, while arching, mournful strings crest over an abyss of swirling vocal ahhh’s and subtle organ chords. Music that gives you a space to inhabit puts you deeper under its spell, something that these three expansive productions all do with ease. Another clear win both for Linkwood and Shevchenko.

[Aus Music]

“When it all comes together and your [sic] grooving over a beat that came out of nowhere,” Laurie Osborne told Sonic Router last year, “that’s the best feeling ever! I find that hard to get on my own.” Anyone who’s followed the man known as Appleblim since his and Shackleton’s legendary Skull Disco label closed up shop in 2008 probably figured as much. Osborne’s greatest solo contribution to dance music in the last few years has been Apple Pips, where he has routinely A&R’d some of the most interesting, genre-bending tunes on the circuit. But perhaps working with so many brilliant bedroom producers has made him skittish about his own knob-twiddling chops. He’s shared the production credit with someone else on every release since 2007, when “Vansan” graced the A-side of Soundboy’s Ashes Get Chopped Out And Snorted. The downside of this genius-spreading is that I have no idea what he sounds like anymore; the upside is that no matter how obscure the other half of the marquee may be, I feel pretty confident I’m in store for some quality music.

Osborne’s policy of compulsory collaboration has been especially fruitful, if not career-making, for Alec Storey. As Appleblim & Al Tourettes (or Al Tourettes & Appleblim, as they’re billed this time out), they’ve turned in standout remixes for Phonica Record’s debut release and Planetary Assault Systems. “Lipsmacker,” for Aus Music, is the duo’s first 12″ of wholly original music. Though it maintains Appleblim’s reputation for musical sophistication and stylistic ineffability, “Lipsmaker” is not one of the strongest examples of this or any of his collaborations. It’s mostly a matter of the sounds themselves. Appleblim collaborations don’t typically fear tech-house, but the title embraces the aesthetic’s least interesting attributes with discomfiting enthusiasm, especially for a duo whose sound usually veers closer to straight techno. Micro-percussion (replete with flaccid kick-drum), teensy vocal samples, and digital effects abound, amounting to something about as inviting as a just-cleaned (albeit snazzily designed) public restroom. It does the job, but I’m not sure I want to spend anymore time in there than I have to. “Mr. Swishy” thankfully evokes vintage Al Tourettes & Appleblim: the kick once again finds its full strength and penchant for being nowhere you’d expect, and the synth programming — sassy in the bass bass and off-kilter in the mid-range, with a razor-sharp dulcimer holding things down up top — is rather magical. Aus labelhead Will Saul sticks to the UK for remixes. Linkwood seriously smooths up “Mr. Swishy” in his vaguely vintage deep house style, and Deadboy of the Numbers crew offers a digital-only 2-step rework of “Lipsmacker” that doesn’t do much to redeem the flawed original. Appleblim buy-on-sighters — a guy this good likely amasses many of them — will find plenty to love in “Mr. Swishy,” but the set as a whole falls short of essential. Let’s hope he’s got better and more distinctive work in the pipeline.

With several titles under his belt using his given name, Australian producer Lewie Day has recently adopted the Tornado Wallace guise, to what ends we can’t be sure. Stylistically, the two personalities seem to enjoy making the same kind of music, though perhaps the differences lie elsewhere, unseen, plotting quietly. In any case, Tornado’s Paddlin’ EP for the Delusions Of Grandeur label will likely see the Melbourne-based talent experience a spike in interest for his polished, classic deep house sound.

“Paddlin’” begins with reverb soaked claps being sucked backwards through distended hi hats before the thick, soupy chords rise up over a filtered disco bass line. It’s deep house with a distinctly Detroit state of mind, recalling the likes of KDJ and Theo Parrish, though most sounding like another producer those two revered figures have influenced, Motor City Drum Ensemble on his Raw Cuts series. “Swimmin’” is an alternate version to “Paddlin’,” slowing the track down further and intensifying the disco elements by going to work on the filters, tweaking the guitar licks and playing around with the vocal samples that are also present in the original mix. Firecracker Recordings bigwigs Linkwood give a special treatment to “Paddlin’,” making the chords shimmer like hot air rising from scorching sand, accenting the summer haze with vocal grunts and sighs. The percussion flows with an organic groove to it, and in many ways the whole production is similar to Pepe Bradock’s late 90′s house classic, “Deep Burnt.” Despite the obvious influences showing through on these tracks, all are executed with such precision it would take the stickliest of sticklers to bemoan a lack of originality. As Kerri Chandler noted: a basement, a red light and a feeling was all that was needed. Well, Tornado Wallace has the third part of that equation all sewn up with his Paddlin’ EP.

[Prime Numbers]

Prime Numbers has surfaced from the wading pool of deep house labels at a remarkable rate. Considering the apparent nonchalance of Prime No. 1 David Wolstencroft (best known as Trus’me), the consistency and quality of PN’s catalog is almost surprising. Developing an identifiable sound around a close-knit and capable collection of producers in just a few years requires equal amounts of luck, astute determination, and obviously, trust. Both eerie and warm, indivisible and expansive, reflective and current, the Prime Numbers sound boogies down like tears in rain. Prime producers like Reggie Dokes (owner of Detroit’s Psychostasia Recordings), Linkwood (Nick Moore), and Fudge Fingas (Gavin Sutherland) share Wolstencroft’s ethos to the point of near interchangeability (as evinced by the mixed disc of last years PN comp), while maintaining fresh takes on the sound. But with only bits and pieces thus far (albeit bright and poignant ones), and with Trus’me’s second album In the Red yet to break the bank, it’s still to be seen how this collective drive should play out in greater detail. With System, Moore has slow-brewed just such a model, while further rendering his thematic preoccupations and once again proving his consummate production style.

Making his introductions with the 2004 release “Miles Away,” in collaboration with Sutherland and Firecracker fire marshal Lindsay Todd, Moore began his exploration of the soulful sounds and sides of isolation, a theme taken further with “Lost Experiment” and “R.I.P.” His flipside contribution “Fate” offered a bouncier consecration of faith and community, themes that resurfaced in “What’s Up with the Underground?” and “Barely Eagle” (another solid collaboration with Todd). System is a more comprehensive examination and formal adaptation of these not so contradictory themes, which draws willfully and skillfully from Moore’s influences. It makes a solid initiation and representation of the LP format on Prime Numbers.

Organized into stylistic and thematic pairs, System starts with the appropriate organic/synthetic tension of “Carbon Units” and “Robot Parade.” In clear homage to the sci-fi fascinations of both Kraftwerk and 313 techno, these tracks facetiously brood and menace with industrial compulsion. More about contextualization than movement, they only hint at what’s to come later. “Tears” and “Falling” introduce Moore’s heartbroken boogieman production persona. Featuring another convincing vocal performance from “Spaghetti Circus” ringmaster Reggie Watts (who even has the courtesy to lower his register while delighting with some fast-mo French flow), “Tears” sports a neck bender of a bass line over which Watts bawls, “I’ve got so much in the way of tears.” If the impulse to boogie wasn’t so clearly the order of the day, we might have time to feel more for him. On top of that, it’s not all tears falling from cloudy skies, as the end of the song makes clear: “Everybody/ Sunshine!” “Falling” seems as bleak and incongruous as a second-class ticket on the Trans-Dystopia Express, until it chugs up to the halfway point, and we realize we’re not taking the boogie train to oblivion, but rather “falling in love.”

Stepping off somewhere between loveless and lost, Moore does what any of us would: head straight for the refrigerator. The bitter, but hearty “Pumpernickel” is a call to “pledge allegiance to the groove,” finding peace of mind in music, but its “Fudge Boogie” that puts the proof in the pudding. With Sutherland’s fingers sticky on the keys, its saucy vocals offer a uniquely pragmatic bit of inspirational prose: “Yes, I need you baby, and I get what I want / If I don’t get it, it’s because I don’t want it.” Marching on a now satiated stomach, the LP heads from its origins somewhere in or around the Detroit metro area to “Chicago,” where things are moving at a faster pace. Here, the robotic menace is less obvious, but there’s certainly something charging up from under the surface of that big, inner-city synth solo (in all likelihood, a replicant recording from the vaults of the Tyrell Corporation’s Midwestern branch office). This one should blow its fair share of minds in coming months, that is, if its big brother “Electricity” leaves any on the dance floor. Sparing no expense in hiring the Peech Boy Community Clap Choir, Moore has here birthed a thoroughbred banger, which Wolstencroft admits gave him shivers upon first hearing. Cresting the peak at just the right moment, we move down into dubbier valleys and dewier pastures. Reminiscent of “Lost Experiment” and Intrusion’s “Miles Away” dubs, “Clearing the System” and “Nectarine” offer an appropriately meditative coda, peaking in their own right by other means altogether. If Moore has taken his time working with the material for System (many of these tracks first surfaced over a year ago), Prime Numbers can hardly fault him when the results are this precise.