[Crosstown Rebels]

Mathew Jonson on Crosstown Rebels? I was as surprised as you might be until I actually heard “Dayz.” Though the Vancouver-hailing, Berlin-based producer’s metronomic and stubbornly self-perpetuating momentum is as intact as ever, here the producer’s toolbox is dried out, stripped down and reduced to a new level of basic. It’s not exactly “mnml” — it’s too boisterous for that — but it’s something: “Dayz” is almost like a toy version of a track like this year’s “Learning To Fly,” all quirky elements bouncing around rambunctiously in a tightly confined space. In typically alchemical fashion, “Dayz” balances a number of countermelodies all running at once and manages to make it sound immaculately accessible rather than convoluted — it’s a testament to his grasp of poppy melodies as much as rhythm. The track’s oddly vacuous atmosphere — there’s reverb, but the environment it inhabits is inhospitable — is a perfect match for Crosstown’s playful but antiseptic house.

Flipside, “Cold Blooded” is a little weirder, maintaining the loose and jocular feel but changing around some of the moodpieces. The drums are less rigid and Jonson winds a filtered melody around a grubby stab of a bass line that eventually morphs into tunneling Reese bass lines. The incorporation of one of drum and bass’ harshest (adopted) elements into an otherwise mellifluous track lush with bongos is a bit of a shocker, but like everything else here, it somehow works. Given the track’s melancholic melody and DnB references, dBridge is an uncanny choice for the remix who delivers just fine. The London producer bogs down the track’s main melodic sample with whining synth outbursts, turns that incisive Reese into a smoothly ascending roller, and reorganizes Jonson’s drums into something more typical. It either says something about dBridge’s rearranging skills or Jonson’s versatility that it essentially sounds like a prime dBridge track, which given the producer’s recent run is decidedly not a bad thing. I’m still not sure what’s more surprising: that Jonson finds himself on Crosstown Rebels or the fact that a release by said label feels so legitimately vital in an environment mired in complacency.

[Turbo]

Think of the finest modern techno and house music and Montreal’s Tiga isn’t exactly the first name that comes to mind. However, it seem as if the producer known for his trashy Ed Banger-style electro productions (though admittedly a step above many of his dime-a-dozen contemporaries) has excellent taste in remixers, or at least someone at his label, Turbo, does. The latest single from 2009′s well-milked Ciao! LP, “Gentle Giant,” is a silky downtempo number with a fantastic vocal hook; and while the original merely haunts the spirit of these remixes (they sound more like new original tracks from each producer), each offers a unique and personal interpretation of the song’s complacent lounge vibes.

Martyn leads off the EP with his stunning “Heaven” remix, an apt subtitle all cringes aside. The Dutchman crafts a lush house track laden with choral vocals, soft strings, and a jacking beat caked with a little more grit he usually supplies. The swelling riffs of the original are battered and beaten down into a familiar wired-track progression as Tiga’s wordless oohs breezily float along for the ride. It’s quintessential Martyn, taking shelter between genres and sounding irresistibly smooth and appealing no matter what side of the divide you find yourself. Efdemin’s remix sounds like it could have been picked up off the cutting room floor of his Chicago LP, dusty nocturnal beats with a surprisingly muscular low-end; but just when it seems like he is content to merely ride the groove, the beat drops out and Tiga momentarily wafts in. The track jettisons into more percussive, upbeat territory, as drums feeding off of their own infectious bounce — one of the more uplifting things Efdemin has done in a long while. Mathew Jonson rounds out the EP with a lush, floaty remix (and a full-length vocal as a digital bonus) infected with blurred acid textures and harboring a queasy bass riff, all rounded textures like most of his recent work. So, if Tiga may not typically find room in your regular rotation, maybe it’s time to make an exception, even just this once.

It’s almost incredible that Mathew Jonson is releasing only his debut album after 10 years behind the machines. The Vancouver born, Berlin-based producer has never left audiences wanting for his lengthy, melodically sophisticated tracks, keeping busy with a rash of releases for Itiswhatitis, M_nus, and his own Wagon Repair imprint. But listening to Agents of Time, you can tell Jonson’s been waiting until the material met his specifications and the time was right to unleash his long-playing manifesto. “When Love Feels Like Crying,” our Download of the Week, first appeared on Jonson’s 2009 Walking On the Hands That Follow Me single but it feels just as vital today. Contemplative and rather sedate with only sparse percussion, Jonson turns a striking melody over and over like a drunken jellyfish, occasionally loosing plucked strings that bubble up like escaped air pockets from the deeper parts of the mix. In some ways it evokes later work by Ricardo Villalobos, but its concentration is all Jonson. Our thanks to Mathew Jonson and Wagon Repair for sharing this spellbinding track.

Download: Mathew Jonson, “When Love Feels Like Crying”

There was a time in my adolescence when I was discovering electronic music that genres and the lines that distinguished them almost didn’t exist. All that mattered was how fresh, how forward thinking tracks sounded rather than whether I thought they would fit into a certain type of set or worse, how cool they were. I suspect Nathan Jonson may have felt similarly, because his productions are typically imbued with this feeling that genres, their dividing lines and borders in general don’t just not exist, but are routinely ignored. His latest release is no different, and in that respect is like many of his previous releases, though when the similarities between your tracks are that all of the coloring in happens outside the lines it leaves a lot of room for disparities. Based on a familiar phrase uttered by Jonson’s girlfriend (and indeed countless numbers of them worldwide), Where Did You Just Go? aptly centers on the wandering attentions of Jonson’s musical mind.

Although only a teasing six tracks of what will be a full length album, the EP packs more ideas into it than most artists manage over several albums. Right from the start of opening track “Captivated Heart” Jonson makes it clear that if it’s samey, formulaic techno you’re after you’d best look elsewhere for it. The dusty, drum’n'bass styled breakbeat that emerges from a fairly straight forward beginning bears elements of acid funk, a genre used to cringe-worthy effectiveness by bands like the Crystal Method some fifteen or so years ago. In Jonson’s hands though, the use of these tropes sounds nothing but fresh. There are evidential ties between Jonson and his brother Mathew that come through in the melodies employed on tracks like “Cause I Love You” and “Closed Eyes.” Where Mathew’s tracks have a linear approach to them, Nathan adopts an anything-goes policy. The drum programming on “Closed Eyes” shows the Canadian producer at his deadly, twisted best. Throwing a complete library of percussion sounds into a blender and tapping the pulse button, Jonson deciphers some sense of order from the chaos, cleaning up the loose, jumbled tangle of sounds, then letting them settle again into unruly clusters. The bowel-shifting bass line he slots in is the nail on the coffin for anyone still trying to hold on to any sense of composure; such is its force that upon hearing it on a dance floor you’ll either be scurrying for the nearest safe place or completely losing your marbles.

The poly-synthetic, melodic intricacies of “Cause I Love You” cascade over an ecclesiastical organ sounds the most like one of his brother’s tracks and is also the most straight forward sounding of the EP, while “842 Colours” goes for the direct opposite effect, again grinding out a barrage of beats in a deranged, stilted manner, using cut out segments of sounds to form some semblance of melody. One thing Jonson achieves on each track here is keeping the listener guessing, but more than that he makes each track so unique and punchy they’ll take you to a place where you’ll no longer be subconsciously filing them away into preconceived categories. No, instead you’ll consciously wondering if you’re losing your fucking mind. With the EP teaser for Hrdvsion’s first proper full length album being this good, god only knows what else he has in store for us come the full release.

If one were to single out an overarching narrative for the trajectory of electronic music in 2009, it would surely be the emphasis on the past — on the founding myths and legends that electronic music emerged out of — as a source of inspiration. With disco breaking out from small-scale revival to established Room Two, even Room One fare, with deep house announcing itself as the heir apparent to the ubiquity of mid-decade minimal, and with the cavernously retrospective, Detroit-flecked techno of the Berghain/Hard Wax crew dominating tracklists, it seems that in 2009, the only way to look forward, was to look back. Accordingly, Mathew Jonson chimed in with his take on the theme for Ghosts In the AI, his last Wagon Repair release of the year and the decade.

The EP is the first solo production to come out of Wagon Repair’s new Berlin studios. The eponymous opener couples handclaps with a disconcerting electro warble that aims to growl you into submission. Unlike “Marionette,” which played an elegant game of cat and mouse between the ascending chords and the descending beat, a ruse that was wholly of its time (think James Holden’s “Sky Is Pink” remix), “Ghosts” posits no internal dialog, but instead searches for a middle ground between Drexciya-era electro and late-00′s techno. On the flip, “Technology” is also at once old and new, which is fitting given its curious back story. Apparently created around the time of “Octagon”‘s release in 2004 on It Is What It Is, it has only seen the light of day now following a gentle push from Jonson’s brother, Nathan, better known as Hrdvision. The elusive is grounded only by a repetitive synth pattern that seems to hint just as much at the dawn of a new age, as the closing of an old one. This unresolved dichotomy is further muddied by the beatless track “The Alchemist,” taken from Jonson’s score to the silent film “Faust,” a fitting companion piece no doubt, but unlikely to give the headphones, let alone the dance floor any cause for concern.

Admirable as Jonson’s endeavour is, the legacy of the past year has shown that creating something new out of something old, and doing it well, is no easy feat. Although the electro Jonson favours here seems more than due a comeback, the EP as a whole feels less like a statement of intent for next year than a footnote to this one.

Please tell me about the beginning of Wagon Repair. Why and how did you start out? How did you decide on the name Wagon Repair?

Mathew Jonson: Wagon Repair was born out of an idea to release good music no matter what the sound or idea behind it. The name came from an expression “that will fix your wagon” after one of the founding members, Graham Boothby, heard “Marionette” for the first time.

How did you select the artists for Wagon Repair’s roster?

Most of the artists are people we have known for a while personally. I think we are really lucky to have such talented friends that supply us with good music.

Do you get many demos? What are some qualities you look for when sorting through them?

[We get] lots of demos. But very few from people who have there own sound. It’s pretty uncommon for us to come across demos that hit the press. Certainly a happy surprise though when we find them!

What is one of your favorite releases on your own label? Why?

Modern Deep Left Quartet’s “Babyfoot” is the best for me. It makes me so proud to be able to release music like this. Funny that the worst selling record we have released is the best one. But that’s kind of the point of why we are doing this label.

According to many doomsayers, running a record label isn’t one of the “smartest” fiscal things to do. Is it difficult keep Wagon Repair running with sales “as they are”?

Seems like a pretty smart idea to me. Release good music and promote good artists. Then set them up so they are basically on permanent vacation. The music business kicks ass!

Wagon Repair family reunion.

Is it at all difficult to be located in Canada as opposed to Europe, where so much of dance culture resides?

We have offices in Vancouver and Berlin now so it works.

Do you think blogs like mine hurt the music industry? Do you think blogs have a role in the future of dance music promotion?

Blogs are good for the industry as long as they do not give the music away for free.

There is no shortage of labels in dance music. What does Wagon Repair do to stand out from the crowd?

If we do stand out then it is because of the artists and musicians involved. We are all very diverse and I think that makes for an interesting label.

As technology advances further, vinyl is moving closer to becoming obsolete to many DJs. What are your feelings on this? Do you think the end of vinyl is in sight?

People will always love records. They make girls want to fuck. [Guys too! -ed]

What are a few other labels you respect/revere most?

Warp, Can’t Fight the Feeling, Minus, !k7, Metalheadz, No U Turn, Perlon, Ruthless Records, Blue Note, Motown. I could go on and on.

What can we expect from Wagon Repair in the next year or so?

Lots more records. Thanks for your support! Peace!

[Plus 8 Records]

While it’s higher profile offshoot label M_nus continues to tread water and slowly transform into some sort of sci-fi cartoon series, Richie Hawtin’s original Plus 8 imprint keeps on putting out quality techno releases with a lot less frequency but a much higher level of quality across the board. Veteran Canadian label-skipper Mike Shannon (of Cynosure label fame) is the latest producer to come aboard, and his third full-length album is a polished and accomplished foray into rhythmic tech-house, as comfortable on a home stereo as it would be on an adventurous jock’s playlist.

Shannon establishes his sonic palette right off the bat with “Beyond Incubation,” a mid-tempo excursion full of deep, dark digital notes and hard-hitting mechanical tones and beats — in short, the classic Plus 8 sound. With track two, however, Shannon steps on the accelerator. Opening with some static and waves that give way to a lightly tweaked sliding riff and a cracker-crisp snare beat, “Mercury Mile” (also featured on the album preview “Memory Seed” EP) rides a series of shifting and overlaid melody lines and rhythms that don’t stand still for many measures, moving from one squirming, ever-ascending motif to another. This isn’t the circular, minimal composition of the M_nus camp; this is the stuff that F.U.S.E. and Jeff Mills and even early Autechre was built on.

Shannon sticks to a core of sounds, but not to styles or particular rhythmic patterns. For example, “Wolf Module” guest star Mathew Jonson helps Shannon program some synths into a bouncing, effects-laden acid workout, all hi-hats trying their best to rise above the gnashing teeth of the main riff. “Uno Para el Sol,” on the other hand (with Vincenzo), uses a deep-house rhythmic pattern, softer chords and some jazzy Rhodes mini-runs to create a jacking, late-night atmosphere. Closer “Closed Question” embraces the classic Detroit sound, while “The Love Fry” has some industrial overtones.

Although Shannon bounces from style to style, he doesn’t stray far from his chosen sound sources and the album is kept unified as a result, a satisfying top-to-bottom listen. If you’ve been lamenting Hawtin’s lack of musical output and questionable marketing moves of late, at least be assured that someone over at the home label still has a fully functioning set of ears and a desire to sign talent.

[KMS]

While parsing through a slightly heated discussion over whether Kevin Saunderson’s recent RA podcast – packed with poppy cuts and mixed with CDs/Ableton — had stained his legendary status, one post stood out to me. The author reminded the participants that Saunderson’s long career took place both above ground and underground, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise for him to select from both realms. For me, this thought fits nicely with his choice to reintroduce fans to his musical peaks with three remix 12″s, when he could have easily just re-pressed his best and assumed others would put together the pieces. Saunderson reached out to others to give fans what they really wanted: something fresh, relevant and celebratory of dance music’s watershed moments, grumbling Detroit-centrics be damned. Now Mathew Jonson and John Tejada have followed the footsteps of Joris Voorn, Carl Craig, Samuel L Session and Loco Dice in taking on two classic KMS tunes.

Wagon Repair head honcho, Mathew Jonson, had the un/enviable task of reworking Inner City’s “Good Life,” one of house music’s best known tunes. Rather than deal with all that baggage, Jonson reached for his 303 collection and jumped in an acid bath, leaving only Paris Grey’s sultry vocals bobbing above the surface. The slinky, coiled nature of Jonson’s corrosive progressions lock tightly into Grey’s bouncy and filtered pipes, an odd yet pleasing combination. And because it avoids 2008′s current trends, MJ’s rework might actually avoid sounding dated. By contrast, John Tejada’s grumbling revision of Reese’s “Just Want Another Chance” already sounds like it belongs in 2006-7. Its main gruff, four note groove and plinking synth lead call to mind Stephan Bodzin and Border Community’s signature growls. Perhaps this trait has long since been attributed to Tejada, but to the unfamiliar it feels like old news. Something tells me Saunderson probably doesn’t mind.