[Laid]

For its seventh release, the Dial sub-label Laid has commissioned a split 12″ from Berlin’s lauded Workshop family, granting Kassem Mosse and Lowtec one side each. One assumes the two labels share much of the same fan base and so the EP’s outsourcing is a little perplexing. Regardless, both tracks are predictably emblematic of Workshop’s dusty, narcotic take on experimental house.

The truly essential piece here is Kassem Mosse’s “Untitled.” It’s a dense, hypnotic tangle of murky low-end elements, ghostly synth patterns, and sputtering hi-hats, with some subtle changes and breakdowns along the way. As with most of his material, “Untitled” is caked in fuzz, which, in spite of the track’s intricacy, gives the impression that Gunnar Wendel just jammed this one out, his hardware somehow united by that relentless crackle. It remains spontaneous while locked in a persistent trance, one of those special tracks that’s both immediate and labyrinthine. Even as a touring DJ, Wendel continues to preserve that treasured, hauntingly “anonymous” quality: you can almost instantly tell it’s a Kassem Mosse, but it’s anyone’s guess where exactly this music is coming from.

Lowtec’s contribution is an alternate mix of “Use Me,” from the B-side of Workshop 06. The original’s sluggish beatdown shuffle is basically sped up from 33 to 45, and the change is further accentuated by the addition of hissing doubletime hi-hats. It’s a little disappointing to see Lowtec rehashing old material, especially after the brilliance of his track on Workshop 10 earlier this year, but this mix is a fine choice for DJs who were put off by the downtempo pace of the original. The Workshop EP is thus a bit lopsided, but more than worth checking for Kassem Mosse’s track, a benchmark for the Workshop catalog and his own.

[Farside]

Being a part of Workshop 10 gave Ron Deacon’s career trajectory a big leg up, bringing him to the attention of everyone who follows the highly sought after low-key house label. So upon seeing his first solo EP on Farside Records it was almost a matter of buying the disc unheard, such is the esteem that Lowtec’s label carries with it. Although I did cast a rudimentary ear towards the record before purchase it proved unnecessary; the Secret Garden EP, Deacon’s debut solo outing, offers rich, atmospheric house music laced with a subtle, honeyed vocal that hits deep on first listening.

The title is alluded to in the opening bars of the original mix with a crop of nature sounds bubbling up over the tough, textured kick drums. Deacon references the San Francisco house sounds of the late 90′s with his jazzy guitar licks and silken Rhodesy keys; even the vocal by The Kat is reminiscent of some of the vital Naked Music tracks from that time. Though wearing his influences on his sleeve does Deacon no harm here; the vibe is genuine rather than a pastiche of weathered deep house standards and the vocal also proves to hit the mark. Perhaps in order to appeal to those more familiar with his “Untitled” cut on Workshop 10 or even in appreciation to Lowtec for putting him on, the A side is dedicated to Lowtec’s dub mix of “Secret Garden.” Taking only a syllable or two of the vocal, Lowtec builds up a beautifully minimal, deep house reconstruction that pushes the original into a more subliminal part of the night where words are ambiguous at best and classic song structures are easily replaced by throbbing, relentless vibes. Deacon revisits his original with his own “Refresh Mix,” which pares back the intensity of his compressed, forceful kicks and works on the more subtle elements of the track. Bringing the moodiness to the fore and unraveling the vocal to its full length allows The Kat’s smoky tones shine through, highlighting that her vocal in no small way contributes to the essence of this stunning EP.

[Smallville Records]

Hype-mongers have been talking up Smallville Records recently as label of the year based on a mere two releases, “Silent State” from STL and “Touch” by Steinhoff & Hammouda. Not that they haven’t both been excellent, but it seems some are only just realizing what long term admirers have known ever since the first hand-stamped release in 2006. Unlike that other famous record shop cum label, Smallville haven’t embarked on the empire building Kompakt had achieved at the same point, but nonetheless they’ve left quite a mark on the techno and house landscape. With distinctive artwork provided by Stefan Marx and a quiet, unassuming air in keeping with their name, Smallville have steadily built up an extraordinarily back catalog that features, among others, Move D & Benjamin Brunn, Sven Tasnadi and Sten. Celebrating five years of the record shop, Smallville now showcase these talents across four slabs of vinyl and eventually a CD entitled And Suddenly It’s Morning. The compilation’s title gives a clue to its intentions — music so entrancing it becomes possible to lose all sense of time, until the dawn light begins to seep through the blinds. This split, between Lowtec and Dimi Angélis with Jeroen Search, is the first installment, and fully delivers on that promise.

Dimi Angélis & Jeroen Search’s “Our Life With The Wave” is based on samples of the Waldorf Wave synth provided by Mike Huckaby’s excellent Octavio Paz-referencing project. Opening with a bounce reminiscent of early Speicher releases, this is much harder than usual Smallville fare. Yet the dubby echoes and cosy pads bring a familiar warmth and depth similar to others on the label, notably the mysterious DJ Swap. On the other side, Jens Kuhn aka Lowtec’s “Meandyou.dub” is a tribute to a Manchester based club-night that has played host to his own label Workshop. In the same way that last year Move D was rediscovered by a whole new audience, it seems that in 2009 Lowtec is receiving similarly overdue plaudits. This piece is another of his unusual recipes, throwing together a handful of ingredients to make a tasty whole: tart claps, Hammer Horror synths and creeping bass that should mark the start of many a party. One for early, one for late; both so bewitching the morning really will be unexpected.

[Out To Lunch]

With Workshop’s thin run of singular tech-house releases really blossoming into something special over the last couple years, I suspect I wasn’t the only person who hit up the Discogs and MySpace info pools to figure out just how long Lowtec had been so weird sounding, precisely who Da Halz was and how much more Move D the hard drive could hold. Fortunately, Leipzig’s now-dormant Out To Lunch offers insight on all those inquiries and more. Effectively a “pre-Workshop,” there’s a sizable overlap in roster, which might be because they happen to be operated by the same dudes. In this discography, you’ll find records by the likes of Lowtec, Even Tuell, Alex Cortex, and Seidensticker, as well as a handful star-studded compilations. The most invaluable of these is 1999′s Airbag Craftworks Compilation, so named for Paul-David Rollmann’s line of bags and shirts.

A handful of names from the Playhouse roster immediately jump from the tracklist. There’s a mesmerizing ambient contribution from Soylent Green and an excellent jazzy house track from Don Disco (aka LoSoul). A rare pre-Rest track from Isolée, “Meanwhile”‘s use of a news broadcast makes for an uncharacteristic sonic backdrop, while its wandering plaints of guitar signal an early interest in the instrument that’s continued all the way up to last month’s “Albacares.” My personal favorite, though, is Lowtec’s “Cat Root,” as bent and enchanting as anything this artist has done. Its untethered UFO melodies float skyward until a simple, plodding beat gradually asserts itself to pull the woozy track down to the earthly demands of rhythm.

Much of the CD nestles into a downtempo mood, occasional verging on deep house. On several occasions I’ve mistaken Freestyle Man and Corrado Izzo’s shimmering “Editha” for a Black Jazz Consortium track. One of several sterling nods to electro, “Ekosweeps,” by the newly reactivated Memory Foundation, surges with splashing percussion and burrowing worms of raw, brooding bass. More of a stylistic outlier, a slow-burner from Da Halz gently evolves from whirring sci-fi zaps to methodical, silvery pad melodies. A ten-year-old snapshot of an already robust scene that would go on to do remarkable things, this CD serves both as an unsung preview of the idiosyncratic tech-house to come, and a collection of strong cuts from artist’s we always want to hear more from. It’s remarkable how many key elements were already in place in these artists’ repertoires, but also a treat to examine what they’ve shed over the course of the decade.