[Ostgut Ton]

Aside from the occasional reissue campaign, dance music artists are not known for spending much time with their back catalogs. Whether you chalk this up a mercurial, fashion-conscious culture or most producers’ tendency to release and move on, many artists tend to identify with their past only as part of their CV (or legacy in the case of careerists). Ever the iconoclast, Luke Slater admitted to bucking that trend when writing the fifth Planetary Assault Systems album. “I looked back to The Drone Sector for inspiration,” he told Richard Brophy, continuing, “I love that LP and I feel that it gets overlooked… it almost felt as if I hadn’t written it.” Given the fathomless depths of his oeuvre under a dozen aliases it’s little surprise Slater feels somewhat detached from the 1997 album. But it’s quite striking to think the second PAS LP was a touchstone for the newest more than a decade later. This goes a long way in explaining why The Messenger finds Planetary Assault Systems pulling back on the throttle after the all-out blitzkrieg that was 2009′s Temporary Suspension.

Despite its stated reference point, The Messenger has just as much in common with all previous PAS albums except Temporary Suspension, mixing beatless experiments and mid-tempo techno pieces with more rigorous cuts. But even by those standards it’s a measured, heady record — more akin to a psychological thriller than an explosive sci-fi blockbuster. Its ominous atmosphere is one notable holdover from Temporary Suspension, fomenting pits of dread in listeners’ stomachs with an assortment of unearthly drones and queasy chord sequences while Slater’s usually ferocious drums play supporting roles. After the pleasant tone bath of “Railer (Further Exploration),” The Messenger reveals its true colors on “Beauty In the Fear,” a jaw-clenching crawl through a cavernous passage lined with snarling synthetic creatures. “Human Like Us” is the direct descendant of The Drone Sector‘s “Dungeon,” its familiar, sickly sweet bell patterns bearing light percussive touches as an abused guitar chord fumbles below. Slater intensifies this approach on “Bell Blocker,” which sounds like a distant, coal-fired locomotive warning those ahead with the clang of cowbells and high pitched whines.

An album this intent on unsettling its audience would be a tough sell if not for its largely assiduous sequencing. From its humble opening The Messenger gets more menacing both in tone and the physicality of its percussion with almost every track — the drifting “Movement 12″ being the notable exception. But even when it’s churning bones into butter on “Call From The East” or cranking out eerie electric piano progressions on “Kray Squid,” there’s a modicum of restraint to keep you guessing when the metaphorical hammer will fall. That moment finally arrives on the ninth track, “Rip The Cut,” unleashing all the pent-up tension with torrents of overdriven, syncopated drum triplets. Unfortunately the album loses steam and appeal when it doesn’t maintain that intensity in the last three tracks. There’s a sense the sub-aquatic squelch of “Motif” and paint-PAS-by-numbers “Cold Bolster” would’ve felt less lackluster placed earlier in the order. That said, the machine funk of “Black Tea” is an effective closer, thrumming with nervous energy before disintegrating in squalls of white noise.

The inherent risk of Slater reconnecting with his earlier releases to create new work is that listeners can justifiably claim The Messenger is merely a lateral move for Planetary Assault Systems. Yet that doesn’t make his choice to scale back the aggression and require more careful listening any less brave, knowing that doing so could alienate fans who only just cottoned on with Temporary Suspension. It also can’t take away from the richness of Slater’s sound design, which is meticulous enough to fully sell his haunting vision without resorting to brutality and far more intensely detailed than any PAS material before it. To this end his choice of inspiration proves fruitful, allowing Slater to refine his well established sound while keeping his fans checking behind their curtains for lurkers. Message received.

[Ostgut Ton]

Marcel Dettmann reawakened the relationship between industrial abstraction and techno on his steely yet gritty debut album, but his new EP Translation sees the German DJ/producer operating in a radically different sphere. Indeed, this creative restlessness is a common feature of his catalog so far: just as soon as he teases out an approach that fascinates others, Dettmann veers into a new direction. It explains why his label, MDR, is no longer a home to dense loops and has been replaced by distorted bass oppression, as well as why this release on Ostgut Ton brings Dettmann back to the purist sound that originally inspired him to make music.

The listener is first confronted with “Barrier,” which in spite of its title is a relatively serene arrangement, as spoken passages from the Apollo mission are cut up to the sound of understated ambient drones. It provides a fitting prelude for “Translation One.” Far removed from the stomping intensity of his MDR releases, its lithe rhythm reveals a hitherto unrevealed elegance to Dettmann’s productions, but the eerie synths and rasping percussion still serve as a reminder that the Berghain resident’s focus remains on the dance floor. “Translation Two” pushes this purist approach a few steps farther. While the first installment was derived in part from Sleeparchive and Sähkö, the follow up is more similar to Robert Hood. The central rhythm has that wiry intensity the Detroit producer excels at, yet Dettmann makes his own mark through the use of atmospheric synths and beats that are looser and lighter than the master builder’s metallic repetition. Finally, “Planning” sounds like Dettmann trying to reimagine Hood during his most visceral phase, with jarring riffs dominating the foreground. However, the use of a swinging rhythm that sounds like a Cosmin TRG track encased in a titanium shell ensures the track doesn’t descend into a self-conscious interpretation of 90s techno. With one ear listening to the past and the other firmly pressed against the door that leads to the future, Translation shows that there is no danger of Dettmann staying in the same place for too long.

As skilled as he is at every facet of electronic music production, Tobias Freund has never needed to rely on flashy, freaky personality gimmicks to make his mark. He’s as capable of knocking out a club-shaking banger as a mind-bending synth experiment, which has kept him in great demand over his 20+ years in the game. His first full-length under the tobias. moniker is characteristically unflashy as well, even as it flits between genres and moods with practiced ease. This week’s download is an alternate take of “Free No.1,” one of the album’s many highlights. “Free No.2″ is only slightly different from the released version, five-and-a-half minutes of tense broken-beat techno. Its machine rhythms skitter through drifting, complex chords that are dispersed with sharp synth stabs. It’s a throwback to the melodically and rhythmically diverse techno of the early 90′s but it feels just as home in 2011. Our thanks to Mr. Freund and Ostgut Ton for making this gem available.

tobias., “Free No.2″

[Ostgut Ton]

Despite the Berghain and Panorama Bar mixes being fairly new titles in a commercial format that is close to twenty years old, they have nonetheless in a short time become indispensable. The success behind the series is directly linked to the success of the club itself, namely that of the DJs who compile and mix them are residents of said club and provide the best clubbing soundtracks in the world right now. The third installation in the Panorama Bar succession is placed in the care of Prosumer, whose focus here isn’t on profiling new and exclusive tracks (though there are of course some of those Ostgut Ton exclusives on here), but rather putting together a solid mix that pays no heed to release dates.

It is one of those keenly tipped exclusives that kicks off the mix, Steffi’s forlorn “Sadness” immediately creating a nostalgic atmosphere via its bitter-sweet piano house tristesse. While it’s a beautiful track to start with it does feel tacked on to the mix, with DJ Duke’s “Heard,” which follows, not sounding like the smoothest transition and feeling like the mix has started all over again from this point. Things flow more smoothly from here with another of the exclusives, Hunee’s incredible “A Leaf For Hand In Hand” seamlessly blended in, its loose percussion swinging around fluidly over the tubby Juno bass line and rising house chords. Through tracks like this, which lovingly eschew an old school vibe, coupled with the fact that the majority of the tracks on the mix are actually quite old, Prosumer pulls off a mix that is all at once steeped in history but still sounding box fresh.

That is in no small way helped along by the current resurgence in Chicago house and vintage synth sounds proliferating releases. His impeccable taste pulls together little known gems from Morgan Geist, Jeff Mills, Uwe Schmidt and DJ Iz with such ease you feel like he could have just been hanging out at home one day pulling records off his shelves and decided to record his efforts. Romanthony’s “House of God” also provides a strong point of the mix, the deeply religious feel to the track a clear pointer to the opinion many hold that house music is indeed a spiritual thing. Under his Circulation guise Joshua Michaels’ “Sincerely” slides in right alongside with its mirage-like, summery melodies and fired up vocal samples. It provides not just one of the highlights of the mix but also proves to be an axis, as it unfortunately gives way to the only contentious moment on the CD, Lil Silva’s “Pulse Vs. Flex,” a track so out of keeping with the vibe of the rest of the mix, it becomes an unwanted focus on repeat listens. UK bass music has been creeping into house and techno sets for several years now and having heard Prosumer drop “Let Me See What U Workin’ With” in a the middle of a similarly styled set recently I know it can work, however here it just doesn’t.

The taste of the garish-in-comparison track soon fades though with J.T. Melody’s “Prove It” warming things up again, before Prosumer heads into slightly harder territory and a fantastic run to the finish with the pulsing, hallucinatory “L.T.B.C.Y.B.” from Uwe Schmidt’s i alias, the mono-synth workout of T.S.O.S’ unreleased “Over And Over” and Jeff Mills’ banging “Let’s Swing It” under his one time alias Servo Unique. Smoothing out those harder edges, Prosumer finishes with the sublime, Fingers Inc.-sampling “Love Injection” from Mike Dunn’s QX-1 moniker, providing a fitting end to a mix that gives an accurate account of Prosumer’s tastes and abilities as a DJ. Panorama Bar 03 may not be immediately arresting, but like any great mix (or album for that matter) it sinks in deeper and deeper each time you hear it.

[Ostgut Ton]

Dinky’s production career has been a bit quiet since the release of her 2009 album Anemik, an odd album of unconventional rhythms and twisted structures. 2010 held but one EP for the Chilean tech house producer, the Amanda EP for her own Horizontal imprint, as well as the Panorama Bar resident’s debut appearance on Ostgut Ton on label compilation Fünf, but that was about it. The contemplative mood of Anemik lingered over “Amanda,” yet Alejandra Iglesias’ first full solo release for the mighty German label sees her running back to the dance floor with two mighty tech-house slammers.

“Take Me” hurtles forward almost violently, with with the snares slapping at the end of each bar elastically over a two-note see-saw bass line that feels like it’s going to rip the track down the middle. Iglesias keeps her usual array of weird atmospheric touches intact, chimes twinkling and twirling above the frothing turbulence below. Incomprehensible vocal samples are pulled along for the ride, distorted syllables that sometimes congeal into words (“like a motherless child” doesn’t exactly fit the mood of the song, however). The jazzy tangents of her recent work manifest themselves in a truly bizarre few bars of horn-driven lounge house before the song snaps back to full bore mnml destruction. Slowing things down and jogging in place rather than sprinting like its flipside, “Polvo” turns those weird horns into a hiccuping bass line tickled by smooth Rhodes melodies and gradually encroaching, circling synths. Iglesias brews up a sandstorm of cooing vocal samples to flood the otherwise wide-open soundstage, and while “Polvo” is more focused than “Take Me,” Dinky’s latest dance floor single is still somewhat tempered by the tangential qualities that made Anemik such a surprisingly difficult album.

Although his name has been synonymous for some time with Detroit and more particularly the quality strains of house and techno emitted by the Spectral Sound label, some will be surprised that Ryan Elliott’s recent EP for Ostgut-Ton is his first proper release. Having previously turned out a few edits and remixes, even appearing with his own original track “Abatis” on the Ostgut compilation Fünf, Elliott’s main area of focus has been as A&R man for Spectral Sound and as DJ ambassador for the Detroit based label. With a reputation for impeccable DJ sets and a demanding schedule, Elliott left Detroit for its European simpatico city of Berlin eighteen months ago, finding a surrogate home in the fold of the Ostgut crew. LWE got on the line to Elliott to discuss the importance of developing yourself as an artist, the dangers of juggling a hectic DJ schedule with a full time job, and upholding the legacy of the Motor City. Showing just why he is such a coveted name to have on your club bill, Elliott also supplied our exclusive 82nd LWE podcast, a hot mix of raw, bristling techno that encompasses the works of his contemporaries, unreleased tracks and some vintage moments in techno.

LWE Podcast 82: Ryan Elliot (58:21)

01. Skudge, “Modular Storm” [Skudge Records]
02. O/V/R, “Post Traumatic Son” (DVS1 Optimist Mix) [Blueprint]
03. Szare, “Pressure” [Horizontal Ground]
04. Donor, “Sude 4.1″ [Thema]
05. The Express, “Bost” [HEM]
06. The Express, “Host” [HEM]
07. Contakt, “Not Forgotten” (Rolando Remix) [Local Action Records]
08. Donor, “Sude 4.2″ [Thema]
09. Lucy, “Kalachakra” (DVS1 Eyes Open Mix) [Prologue]
10. Care Company, “Vol. 2-B” [Sense Music]
11. Jeff Mills, “Strata” [Something In The Sky]
12. The Sun God, “Return To Saturn” [Klang Elektronik]
13. Drake & Griffiths, “The Devil’s Eyes” (Bleak’s Bêtte Noire Remix)
[Fear Of Flying]
14. Rio Padice, “Mission To Venus” [Tsuba Limited]
15. Ben Sims, Phil Vernol & Rob Jarvis, “Killa Bite 1-B1″ [Killa Bite]
16. User, “User 4-A2″ [User]
17. Robert Hood, “The Family” [M Plant]
18. WK7, “Higher Power” [Power House]
19. EQD, “Equalized #004-B” [Equalized]
20. Rolando, “The Afterlife” [Saved Records]

So you grew up in Detroit right?

Ryan Elliot: Correct. I grew up on the west side of Detroit and I lived there my whole life until a year and a half ago when I moved to Berlin. I mean I went to university in a small town half way between Detroit and Chicago called Kalamazoo, but that’s still kind of Detroit.

So growing up there I guess you discovered electronic music at a fairly young age.

Yeah I mean I guess the perfect kind of answer for this interview would be that I first went to the Music Institute when I was twelve years old and then went to Richie’s Plastikman parties… but I didn’t. I discovered it from the radio. Even still today they have the “Drive at Five” show and they’ll do a live DJ mix on the radio and they are sprinkled with hip hop, booty, electro — like proper old school electro, and Detroit techno. So I was introduced to the first Submerge records through the radio… and I forgot how strange it is to hear a live mix on the radio. When I went home for Christmas and was driving from one family member’s house to another and “Nights of the Jaguar” came on the radio and I was just thinking there’s no other place where you’d get that playing on commercial radio.

So is Detroit really known for championing its own music?

I mean you’ve still got Derrick and Kevin and Juan, they’re not so much on the production front but they’re touring every weekend and they’re still flying the flag. People like Theo, Moodymann, Kyle Hall and Omar S, they’re there, living there, they’re in the trenches. But even with rock, like with the White Stripes and further back than that, there’s always been this thing with Detroit and music. Though I guess I have a very biased opinion. [laughs]

When you were starting to get into DJing and production did you feel like there was some sort of Detroit legacy you needed to uphold?

Yeah, for sure, and even now at over 80% of the shows I play someone comes up to me and says, “Oh you’re from Detroit huh,” because they know of all the associations that entails. I mean, I’m no Derrick May but yeah I do definitely feel that I have to uphold that legacy and fly the flag for Detroit.

So back in the day you’d get people like Derrick or Mike Banks mentoring people as they came up. Does that sort of thing happen today? Or did you get some yourself?

Well I came up with Matthew Dear so he was always a very good mentor to me. I don’t know Theo and those guys as well but I do think there has been some mentoring between him and Alex [Omar-S]. I mean, Detroit is not a posh city at all so there is very much a feeling of helping each other, you know, like we’re in this together, let’s stick together and help each other any way we can. I think that comes through with the production as well, with people lending each other gear and that sort of thing.

So how did you start out with Spectral Sound?

That’s a funny story. I never really got into DJing until I came back from university; I’ve always been a late bloomer in life with everything. So I started going out to clubs more and it was a natural progression. I became interested in what the DJs were doing, started trainspotting and all that. So my friends and I were living together and we bought some decks and learned to beat-match and all of that. Then a friend of mine from high school worked at this bar and they wanted to start an “electronic night,” so he suggested me because he knew I DJed. So I went and gave them a CD and they asked me to come in and try it out for a while. On the first night I played Matt [Dear] came in and said, “Hey I’m a DJ too, I really like what you played, can I come play with you next week?” and there was never a second thought about having him come do it with me. So that’s how it started and we did every Tuesday for about four years. It wasn’t just doing it, it was taking our own decks in and all that, they just had the sound system. So by the end of it he was touring more and I was starting to do a bit so I would play on my own or we’d get someone else to sub in for both of us. Then through meeting Matt I met Sam [Valenti] who owns both Ghostly International and Spectral Sound, so I eventually met the whole crew. And you know when you meet certain people and you just instantly gel and it’s like they’ve instantly close friends, it was like that.

So what year was it that you started that residency?

That must have been 2001.

And from the get-go were you interested in making tracks?

No, not at all. I wasn’t interested in making records for a long time actually. For me everything happens very slowly. So once I started buying records and then DJing, after a long time I started doing the odd edit or two. Then maybe a remix that wasn’t even released and then slowly it progressed into production. But you know, I think I’ll always consider myself a DJ first.

Yeah it’s interesting, I mean despite seeing your name for quite a while, that your recent Ostgut Ton release was your first proper twelve.

Yeah that’s my first ever EP. I’ve been flying around the world DJing for about ten years now but I have to say I was really proud to actually see my record on the wall in DJ shops. I actually have a funny story. I always shop at Hard Wax and Rotation here in Berlin every week– it’s part of my routine. I was listening to records in Rotation and this young guy comes in and he’s picking records off the wall and I got all excited because he picked my record. I was all like, “here we go, he’s going to listen to it” and he puts it in his stack and he listens to everything and then he put it back and didn’t buy it. So within five minutes I was all excited because he’d chosen to listen to my record then all bummed out because he didn’t buy it. [laughs] It’s funny because I mean it’s selling well and I’ve gotten good feedback on it but this really bummed me out for a couple minutes. Then after I walked out of the store I have a laugh about it. I mean life is good, I have nothing to complain about.

You know it’s pretty rare that you have been DJing around for the past ten years or so and have only recently been producing as well. For a long time now it’s been near impossible to have a DJ career without being a producer too.

Yeah and I’ve said it before, that for a while [the way I got gigs] was through playing with Matt when he would go tour, and I have no qualms about admitting that. But my thing was, if that was the case I had to show the promoter that I was a really good DJ so I would get booked again. But yeah, I was also very lucky that my first ever international gig was at Fabric. And Judy from Fabric has always been very nice and so have the guys from Berghain — for whatever reason a few of these really big clubs around the world took an interest in me very early on and I’ll never forget that. I was very lucky for that, so when that happens you have to make sure that you show up and you let them know that they did the right thing by booking you.

Did you ever have any career ambitions outside of DJing?

Yeah I worked for one of the big three auto-makers in Detroit for ten years. I was a financial analyst, a currency trader. I only left that job when I moved to Berlin. I mean I started there when I started doing that residency with Matthew, so as my job started getting more involved, so I was also getting more into DJing and following that side of things. But yeah it got hard to keep my mind on the jobby job, especially as it involved a lot of math, so Monday’s were never my favorite day. But I have lots of funny stories about those times. I think the worst it ever got was I worked late on a Thursday, then flew first thing on Friday to Tokyo, played there on Saturday night, then straight back and went to work on Monday morning. All of that and only plane sleep — if that even counts for anything.

Did you ever get called out by the boss and told to chose which path you wanted to go down?

No, I mean they were actually very understanding about the music. They knew that was my first love, but also I was good at my job and always did a good job for them so they tolerated the other side. But I mean, at the end I felt bad because I’m not a good multi-tasker so it was definitely time to go.

What was it that made you leave Detroit?

Well I was playing in Europe so much that it just seemed logical to do it. And my parents even said to me that I should do it, that they wished they had the chance to chase their dreams like that. I had never lived outside of Detroit and Berlin felt so similar to Detroit too. I also had such a good relationship with the Ostgut guys too, so although making everything happen and actually moving was hard, the decision to do it was easy.

Just getting back to Spectral for a moment, how did you ge into the A&R role with them?

Matthew and I split the role, and I guess it was because we were the ones who were buying records each week and the ones getting promos from other people who were maybe opening for us and things like that. We were the ones in the trenches so it just seemed like the easiest thing.

How broad or specific has the vision been for the label?

The same as Ghostly really, it’s very broad. We have things like acid from James Cotton, or then Todd Osborne who is pretty hard to categorize. Then people like Subb-An who has just done a really great record for us, who is kind of new school. I would say the only thing we really make a priority is that it must work for a DJ, it has to be geared for the dance floor. We always just know when something comes in whether it’s something for us or not.

Electronic labels take a very different approach with their artists than the majors do, but if perhaps you took a newer artist on are there instances where you will help that person develop their sound and their career?

Yeah, of course. I mean, we have a core family but if we receive a demo from someone who really blows my hair back then we take them on and if they keep coming up with great releases they become part of the core family.

So are you still in that role?

Yeah, the role hasn’t changed; Matt and I still do that.

So what is your relationship with Ostgut?

Well I’m a recording artist for them and they handle my DJ bookings. I hold a monthly residency either at Panorama Bar or Berghain depending on the month, it changes.

OK, you also did the mix of the Fünf comp too?

Yeah I did the cassette mix for them, mixing the back catalog for them. I mean I started with Spectral and that’s my U.S. home, but being here, Ostgut is such a nice crew to be a part of. I mean I play on Sunday at Panorama Bar and I start at 10pm and I know it’ll go ’til who knows when on Monday. And all the artists are so genuine and they all care so much about their DJing and their productions. I mean, not that I’ve come across many people who aren’t that passionate, but when I met them I was like, “Wow, I’m home.”

It does seem like many people in that Berlin scene is definitely into the music for all the right reasons.

Playing at Panorama Bar and Berghain, I always take my DJing very seriously. I mean, I told you, I always record shop every week, sometimes twice a week, but when you know that you’re going to come into Panorama Bar on Sunday, you know that probably half of the crowd is just there to lose themselves and have fun, but the other half are probably all DJs or promoters and they know the records you’re playing. So it really makes you up your game because you know you’re playing to all these people, so it makes me strive to be a better DJ.

Back to your EP for a second, were you approaching it at all from the point of you also being an A&R? Like thinking, OK, these are the things I would be looking out for, I know there should be this and this and this in it to be more appealing and that sort of thing?

No, any time I sit down to produce now — and maybe this will change when I become a more accomplished producer — but right now the way I approach production is with my DJing experience, what works best on the floor. These subtle bass shifts, these ins and outs of certain sounds that I know just always work, that’s what I’m trying to recreate and capture. So really with my productions right now, I’m not interested in adding twenty elements of something. If you can add four or five or six really good elements and you can sequence those in a clever and interesting way then that’s all you really need. My biggest influences are Hood, Mills, the old Studio 1 records, Baby Ford, people like that. You don’t need a lot when it’s that good. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not comparing myself to those guys, but those are the only elements you need to rock a dance floor. It’s not rocket science. Wolfgang Voigt is an absolute master. You can rattle off ten different genres and he’s at the top of the game. His Red Bull lecture he did was so good, they’re a great resource for anyone who needs inspiration. But he was saying that in his lecture, that you can make the most amazing track from about four different sounds, if it’s done well enough.

So how much are you devoting to production right now?

Well I’m DJing every weekend and I try to take Monday as a rest day, but Tuesday through Thursday I’m at it in the studio. I’m just sprinkling the last little bits of pixie dust on to my debut EP for Spectral, which will come out this summer, so I will keep the ball rolling.

Do you feel like once you enter that realm of releasing you have to keep it up and keep your name out there?

No, I don’t. I don’t think an artist should create that way. A painter should paint when they feel like painting. If a painter paints because they need money then they’re not really a painter. It’s finally struck me that I can actually produce — and in the past I have wondered whether I would be adding anything, but I think I can now and I think this can continue. But if there’s ever a patch where I have to force it, then I’ll go back to doing something else. Production-wise I very much want to stay as an artist.

What can you tell us about the mix you’ve done for us?

The mix was recorded in a studio in Berlin using two Technics, two CDJs, and a looper — my normal DJ set up. It was done in one live take, to get a nice feel and flow, and then pulled into some sound editing software to do a few edits and add a couple of effects. Now that I think about it, the mix was recorded in the exact opposite environment of a club setting (alone, middle of the afternoon, in sun filled and clean studio), but still does very much represent one of my current sets. I play anywhere from deep house to tough techno, depending on the show. This mix definitely lands more on the techno side, but also isn’t too banging because I realize most people are listening to podcasts while they work during the day, on their iPod while doing their daily commute or exercising, or in a car.

Content wise, it’s simply what’s in my bag at the moment. I always play a mix of old, new, and to be released stuff in my sets. I’m totally back into all my old late ’90s/early ’00s techno, so you’ll hear User and Killabite towards the end of the mix. EQD, Mills, Rolando, Skudge, and DVS1 can do no wrong in my book, so they represent some of the current tracks. I also want to mention a new act that I’m super excited about called The Express. I’ve featured two tracks from them in the mix that will be forthcoming on their own HEM label. Keep an eye on these guys as they have loads of excellent material coming soon. I hope everyone enjoys the mix as much as I did making it.

You’ve partly answered this already but what can we expect from Ryan Elliott in the next year?

Yeah, well the EP for sure and then more production. And really I’m sort of gearing up for the summer because that’s a big time for the DJ. So I’m just loading up my techno gun full of tasty bullets [laughs] to unleash on the dance floor. Techno soldiers, that’s my motto.

LWE Podcast 82: Ryan Elliot (58:21)

[Ostgut Ton]

Ryan Elliott’s debut release for legendary German label Ostgut Ton — following his appearance on the Fünf compilation last year — inhabits a gray area between the split personalities of Panorama Bar and Berghain, and it’s arguably a good place to be. The American Spectral Sound A&R guy, who built up his profile on the backs of his DJ sets, crafts two tracks somewhere in between house and techno; and while they aren’t exactly bursting with color or personality, there’s something to be said for how far Elliott can reduce his sounds without sacrificing pure impact.

“Rocksteady” is uncomfortably, obsessively quantized, with every element moving in unnervingly exact precision. The rigid bass line and shuddering, robotic hi-hats predict the monotonous chord progression that floats in later, unapologetically flat and static. The result is eminently machine music, making minuscule concessions to petty notions of variation or development, an unforgiving slab of automaton dance music whose huge presence is at odds with the track’s sparse construction. Letting up the pressure slightly, the beat in “Steadyrockin” feels an iota less constrained, favoring a heaving beat (thanks to the warm and gooey bass line) over precision propulsion. A touch of humanity even leaks through when piano accents bracket the track’s insistent chords, but it’s a feign, a decoration — Ryan Elliott isn’t here to make a piano house banger. So while it might not be as adventurous as some of the label’s very best material, Elliott’s debut is perfectly streamlined and ruthlessly efficient. What’s more Teutonic than that, even coming from an American?

To many, Ben Klock is techno. Given his lengthy CV, this is hardly surprising. Resident at the largely undisputed Mecca of techno, part of the stacked roster of the epoch-defining Ostgut Ton, and creator of numerous staples found in many techno jocks’ bags, Klock is a producer and DJ who seems equally at home with both professions. It hasn’t been immediate success for Klock, though, as he’s spent much of his career in the trenches both finding his sound and a receptive audience. As the craving for Klock’s brand of techno grows more and more widespread by the day, so do the number of its imitators. LWE sat down with Klock in New York to talk about the ’90s, the warmth of Berghain techno and his dad’s experience at the club.

How did you first get into techno?

Ben Klock: I guess my first experience with electronic, four-to-the-floor music was in the late ’80s with the first acid house parties that came to Berlin; they blew my mind. That was the first time that I saw strobe lights and loud music; like, really loud music. So this was a phase in the late ’80s, and then I got back into other types of music again. I played piano and guitar and had different interests. Somehow I just got back into techno.

In like the mid-90s or something?

Yeah, like the early to mid-’90s. I was talking earlier today about this Josh Wink thing I remember: “I Am Ready.” [low voice] “I am ready.” I remember hearing that when I was on the dance floor and thinking, ‘Wow, that’s what I really want.’

Tell me a little about your musical training.

I took piano lessons from an early age for quite a few years. At one point in my life I wanted to go to university to study jazz piano, but I realized it’s not my thing to practice eight or nine hours a day, going through scales. I was more interested in composing, using all sorts of sounds. So I totally quit playing piano and I taught myself guitar, but I also quit that at some point. I was really more into exploring new sounds and everything that was going on in the ’90s was new for me.

Your first record was on your own label, Clockworks, which seemed to be a precursor to the current Klockworks. From when you first encountered techno, what made you want to make it and then gave you the push to set up your own label and put something out yourself?

That belonged to the label of Jazzanova. Back then I was a resident DJ at Delicious Donut. They played all kinds of stuff from acid jazz to drum n bass, to house and things like that. I was still kind of looking for what I really wanted, so this was the first attempt at making some music. It’s not really related to what I’m doing now, I think, though maybe it is.

It looked like it was only one release though…

I was just trying out something and I realized that Jazzanova at that time was going into a completely different direction than I wanted to go. It didn’t make sense to work together any more.

Was it after that that you hooked up with BPitch Control?

Maybe a few years after that. I knew all those guys like Sascha Funke and Ellen Alien, they were friends. We were like all these Berlin guys.

That label was sort of your home for a while…

I wouldn’t call it a home. My first real home, where I felt that I have a home label or even a home at all in this scene, was when I got involved with Berghain and Ostgut Ton. I really felt that I wanted to be there, and that’s where I feel at home. I didn’t feel at home anywhere else before, at other clubs or other labels.

Once you found that with Ostgut and Berghain, do you think your music changed?

I guess a little bit. There were other influences, and I kind of had the feeling of “I’m finally there.” It was what I was looking for and it just kind of fit together at that point. When I first played at Berghain and felt the vibe, surely it influences you, the whole architecture there and everything.

How do you decide which releases go on Klockworks and which on Ostgut?

It’s actually quite easy. I have a feeling that certain tracks are more Klockworks tracks and others more Berghain things. My recent Compression Session EP; that A-side is a typical Ostgut release. It wouldn’t make sense on Klockworks because Klockworks has more of a draft feeling; the Klockworks releases are more tracky, in a way. So the more musical or epic stuff I do for Ostgut.

What is your reason for wanting to put your records out without promotion?

I think it just comes naturally; just making music and putting it out. Not caring about the promotional side. Most of us, as artists, don’t want to deal with that stuff. When it’s a small label like Klockworks, a one-man show, I don’t want to do promotion. I mean, I don’t care if I sell a couple of hundred more with promotion; I just don’t believe in promotion that much anymore. I got overwhelmed with so many promotional emails and promo stuff. I really don’t know how to deal with it any more. Maybe it’s also the idea that I don’t want to be one more promo mail out of hundreds of mail outs.

Well, the aesthetic of stamped white labels without promotion is sort of coming back.

Yeah, I mean, even five years ago we had some labels like that, but this style is growing more and more, that’s true. Even that, though, can get to the point where it’s kind of ridiculous. Every label with a stamp on it is like, ‘Wow, it has to be something great because they don’t do promotion. They just do stamps, so it has to be good.’ That’s the attitude sometimes. If it goes into this direction, that everyone just wants to do this, it’s the same bullshit.

When did you become a resident at Berghain?

Berghain is now six years old, and it was the time before that, like seven or eight years ago, with all the electroclash around (that stuff was kind of a sellout if you ask me). I didn’t have any resident club at the time and I wasn’t having a lot of fun. In Berlin, the only place where I really wanted to play was Ostgut, or the new Berghain. I got the chance to play there once. It was one of the best sets I’ve ever done. Then they asked me to be a resident. It was a moment in life when you feel like you’re in the right place at the right moment. It just all came together and made sense. Ellen was actually the one who introduced me to the guys and said, ‘Why don’t you just play there?’

Do you think that the legendary aspect of Berghain hurts the club, or do you think it’s part of what Berghain seeks to do?

I think they just do what they want to. Even when I started to play at the new venue, at Berghain when it opened up, a lot of people said the new Berghain wasn’t what the old Ostgut was. I really liked the old Ostgut, but I thought the new club was even better; and back then I thought we were really doing something special, and that sooner or later this will really spread out. I had the feeling that everything was working, from the inside to the outside. The owners, how they treat the people that work there, the vibe. Everything was exactly how I always thought a club should work. You have the feeling that you’re part of a cultural thing and not just throwing parties; parties where, after you play, you have to look for the promoter to get paid. I really felt that the people behind Berghain are interested in more than just making money and throwing parties; interested in not only techno but other cultural aspects as well. I thought that sooner or later more people will realize that it’s something special. Sure, there’s kind of a hype thing, and hype can be negative after a while, but I think the Berghain crew are aware of this hype and we try to just keep at what we’re doing. I think we’re quite successful; to not pay too much attention to the stories or the hype. We just want to do what we do best, and that’s still our goal. I don’t pay to much attention to the stories.

You mentioned “culture” a lot.

It’s both partying like crazy and the cultural aspect. I think it’s really good that there’s a place where you can just walk in and leave your everyday life behind, because it stays open until forever and it’s a universe of its own. There aren’t many places where you can do that anymore; that vibe was there in the 90′s, and in that sense Berghain captures that. On the musical side, I think we strive for timelessness; we don’t want to follow trends that are around for only one or two years. Most of us, as artists, get our inspiration from the old stuff. Basic Channel is really timeless music. You can still listen to it in 20 or 30 years. Some of the stuff today, however, is for now and only now. You won’t listen to it a year from now. This timeless idea is part of Ostgut, Berghain and Hard Wax.

In New York there have been these Berghain/Panorama Bar nights. There were a couple in Japan and there was talk of something at Ibiza…

Yeah there was one night. I wasn’t there.

Do you think these nights properly capture the spirit of Berghain and Panorama Bar, or do you think it’s even the point?

I get it from some people who say, ‘You bring us the Berghain vibe and usually we don’t have that; we don’t hear that kind of music here!’ That’s what I hear from people, ‘It’s almost like Berghain,’ or something like that. I never try to bring the Berghain vibe anywhere, I just play what I play.

Does it make sense to export the club, and can you?

Surely it’s not the same. Berghain is unique; there is no place like it in the world. It doesn’t mean that it’s better, it’s just unique. You can still play the music you play at Berghain elsewhere and it’s works, it’s fun. Maybe the music captures a bit of the vibe.

As a DJ at Berghain you’re usually playing marathon sets, but increasingly a lot of the Ostgut guys are being invited to play big festivals, where you don’t have much time to play. How do you try and present your style of DJing when you only have an hour or an hour and a half?

Yeah, it’s a challenge; I ask myself that sometimes. Two hours is OK; it’s kind of like the international standard in a club. But when it comes to festivals, where you only have like one or one-and-a-half hours, it’s really different and you can’t capture this vibe. When Ricardo plays these long, never ending things, you can’t do that in one hour; it’s just not possible. It’s a different kind of playing. Last time at Berghain I played alone for 11 hours, which is really epic. You’re right, most people know me or relate me to these long, late sets, which I really like. But when I’m playing elsewhere, sometimes I have a two-hour slot and people come for only two hours and party like crazy. Sometimes I like this compressed, short, completely extreme set; like “boom!” and then it’s over. I still don’t feel very comfortable with these really short sets, they are challenging for me.

Would you say that you can’t really show yourself properly as a DJ in such a short space of time?

I know that I have my best moments during long sets. After three or four hours, suddenly I have two really deep hours where I don’t really think any more. I’m completely in the groove, and that’s when I do my best. There’s no chance that this will happen in a one hour set. Though, it can be fun to play a short, banging set and try to be 100 percent.

What did you like about the album process? Is it something that you want to do again?

It’s something that I’ve always wanted to do. Even when I was a child I dreamed of making an album. Back then I thought I would have a band, but I thought that at one point in my life I would make an album, so it was a dream come true. It was clear I wanted to make an album that worked as an album, not only club tracks. When I finished it was kind of a relief; like, ‘Now it’s done and now I’m ready to make a 12″ again.’ But I’m sure there will be another album, maybe I’ll start this year. I think sometimes it takes some time to be inspired again for something like an album. It takes time to build a new basic idea or concept, because it wouldn’t make sense to just collect tracks now and throw out another album and call it Two. I think when the time is right I will feel it; when there is a new idea that wants to come out. I really enjoyed doing something different from what I had done before, to make tracks that don’t have a bass drum or something. I really enjoy that process. Maybe the next album will be even further removed from club music.

Did you feel more satisfaction from the album than from a 12″?

I kind of did. Well, it depends. Everyone works differently. I think Shed said he only worked on his last album for a month or so; that is really different. For me, making an album was like this huge mountain that I didn’t know how to climb. Then it starts forming and developing and you feel like you know which tracks you want to put together, what makes sense. You think about the tracklist and how to combine the songs. In every little process there are so many decisions: how you want to arrange a track, choosing the artwork. I was really satisfied with it; I think I will still like it in ten years. Making a 12″ is not really such a big deal; it’s much faster. Like my last Klockworks, the track on the A-side is like two or three years old.

Your most major recent release was Berghain 04. It sort of goes back to what were saying about having to fit your DJ style into just over an hour, but here obviously you have a lot more control and you can spend a lot of time on it.

Most of the time was spent choosing the tracks, since most of the tracks were exclusive. So, the bulk of the work was talking to people, collecting tracks and choosing the right ones.

Do you think that the CD is a more accurate representation of your DJ sets than your sets at festivals?

I don’t see mix CDs as the way I DJ, it’s just a thing on its own. For this mix CD I wanted people to listen to it at home or in the car. Sometimes if I hear a hard banging techno set then I’m done with it. I don’t want to listen to that stuff every day when I’m sitting in the car. So the idea was to make it softer. Sure, it represents my style in a way, mixing things together, building things, but it’s also something of its own.

There’s a lot of your own tracks on there, as well as all the exclusives. Did you make it more as a producer than as a DJ?

It’s a combination of being a DJ and producer, I think. It’s a perfect combination of the two skills.

Berghain 04 was a very warm CD, where sometimes you guys are described with the words…

“Cold,” “relentless,” “steel.” I never thought these words described us, or myself, accurately. “Cold, relentless, techno.” I think Berghain is really not the place where you only hear this kind of music. There are a lot of productions that are called Berghain techno, and every time I hear that I get bored because that’s not the only thing that I’m interested in. I’m interested in good music, not just dark, monotonous stuff. It can be monotonous and dark and can be great, but it has to be something special. I really like warm stuff. I think the sound at Berghain is that warm bass drum; not this kind of “kxkdk,” but this kind of “boom,” when it has this nice warm belly. This is what I like, that it has some ass and muscles but that it’s also warm. Maybe you could also say there’s a female aspect; it’s not only macho music. Especially with Berghain 04; I made it in the winter and when I finished it I didn’t listen to it anymore. It was only when it came out that I listened to it again. I was driving through the city, the sun was shining, and I realized it’s really a kind of a summer CD. It made perfect sense to release it in the summer. The intro and the first few tracks really have a warm, sunny feeling. I was happy that it had this warm feeling, especially at a time where people always related us to these words “cold, hard, banging techno.” At Berghain we play some house sometimes. It’s not all about the dark stuff.

So you think some of the music that’s called Berghain techno wouldn’t even get played at Berghain?

Yeah, I’m positive about that. I get sent so many promos saying, ‘Here, this is something for you, this is Berghain, you will like it.’ As soon as I read this I know it’s not for me. It just bores me, this so called “Berghain techno.”

What do you have planned next? Where do you see the Berghain sound going?

I’m not sure. Lately Marcel [Dettmann] and I have been talking about that. It’s always challenging to not stay with the same sound forever. Sure, we will never stray too far, but we are always looking for something to open up the concept or new directions to go in. There will definitely be another Dettmann/Klock thing in the future — hopefully 2011. We’re not sure what we’re gonna do yet, we’ll just see what inspires us. For myself, I think I will put some more effort into Klockworks. 2010 had only one release, 2009 had maybe two release. I don’t have a schedule for Klockworks, but there will definitely be another DVS-1 and some other stuff.

Do you want to sort of see Klockworks not only as a vehicle for your own stuff? You put out the one DVS-1 record, but do you want to make Klockwork into its own sort of family?

I’m not planning something like that, but I’m open. It depends on who I meet. Before I met Zak [DVS-1] it was just a platform for my stuff, but when I met him, right away I knew, ‘OK, I need this music, it has to come out.’ So the basic idea changed at that moment. Now I’m open to other artists as well, but I’m really not looking for anything. I’m really, really picky and I really have to like it personally. I’m not looking to build up a big family of artists, I’ll just let it be open.

You said that you guys ignore the hype behind Berghain and keep your eyes down and keep focused on what you’re doing, but I imagine that it’s hard to avoid.

Yeah. Sometimes it’s strange when there are people in front of the DJ booth screaming ‘Berghain!’ and I’m like, ‘Um, yeah, ok, whatever.’ I’m Ben Klock. I’m just doing my thing, and sometimes it’s just a little bit too much with the whole Berghain thing.

Would you say Berghain is a place for purist techno?

I would say it’s a place where you can really experience techno in a very pure way. When people who are not related to this music at all, who think techno is some commercial bullshit, boom-boom-boom thing, who don’t have an idea what techno culture is really about: go on the Berghain floor, be in the middle on the dance floor and stay there for an hour or so. That’s the place where you can really understand what it’s about and in that way I would say it’s pure experience; a way to really feel what techno is about. Even for my father, he recently came to Berghain for the first time at the age of 75. He stayed there for ten hours, didn’t even want to leave, and after that he said, ‘Now I understand what you are doing.’ Because he really experienced it; the sound and the vibe there, the architecture and the idea of playing the music the way we play it. I wouldn’t say it’s only for music lovers or nerds, but it’s experiencing techno in its most pure form without the showing off, “look at me” aspect of some other clubs. I know some people go there just because you can be yourself there, and do what you do. I know some actresses who just want to be there because nobody looks at them and says, ‘You’re this and that.’ You can just be yourself there. And that’s a good thing.

It almost seems like a certain level of hype sort of goes against what Berghain actually stands for, which is what you just said, the idea of going there not to be seen and yet when something get really hyped…

Yeah, that’s a conflict maybe. But they still have their rules and beliefs, like you’re still not allowed to take pictures there, which is good. Everywhere else is all about is about being Youtubed and having your picture taken, so this is different. It’s just the basic idea of being there for the music and being yourself, doing what you want to do without being caught on camera and stuff like that. [chuckles]

I can only assume that I’m guilty of it, but another sort of truth that the media will stick to is describing Berghain music in terms of the gritty architecture. How do you think the architecture plays into the sound?

There is a relation between the room, the surroundings and the music. I think the reason techno got so big in Berlin makes sense; after the wall came down the city looked a certain way, and maybe certain kinds of music belong to certain surroundings. I wouldn’t expect this type of music to be created in a nice, easygoing, sunny place in the south, like on a island. You kind of need this urban feeling and this concrete around you to create these ideas. This kind of, I always forget the title of the movie, it’s old and from the ’20s…

Metropolis?

Yeah, it always reminds me of Metropolis. It’s like, when you hear Jeff Mills you have certain pictures, or certain ideas associated with it, and it makes perfect sense that he made this Metropolis thing. In a certain way, the architecture of Berghain connects to the music that we make.

You say that techno is as very urban form…

Yeah I would say so. You have these Goa raves in nature, but that certain kind of techno is really related to Berlin and to urban feeling.

Well, you have the Labyrinth festival in Japan.

Yeah I mean, I played at a festival this year in Japan that was also in the mountains, a completely backpackers thing, together with Autechre and others like that. It was great, it was perfect, but people who create this music, they mostly come from the city. Especially in Detroit, there is a connection between the city and this kind of music.

How do you and Marcel approach the collaborative process? With DJs having very busy schedules, collaboration lately seems to be sending parts back and forth. How do you guys approach that?

We decided not to do that. We have similar tastes in music and we always kind of know what the other one likes and that is very inspiring. When we do the next project it will definitely be different than the first project that we did, because back then Marcel had just started producing. So I don’t know exactly how it would look now, but we’ve already said that if we’re going to do it again we’ll definitely sit together and not send files back and forth. We see each other quite a lot, but it can be hard because of our schedules.

So, where do you head from here?

I’m flying to Minneapolis tomorrow with DVS-1. We’ll have a party at a place that he owns and throws parties at. It’s supposed to have a great sound system because he was into renting sound systems. I’m looking forward to playing there; It’s just going to be a dark box with a good sound system.

It’s funny, because Minneapolis is not a city that would really come to your mind if you were thinking of techno capitals in the States and yet…

And I remember last time when I played there, I was in New York before and people were saying, ‘Oh, you’re going to Minneapolis….’ They were kind of snobby, like ‘I didn’t know there was anything there, so don’t expect much.’ It was a small party, small crowd. It’s a small scene, but they’re completely alive and knowledgeable about the music. Some people told me that Zak is responsible for a lot of that. He threw some parties a few years ago with people like Robert Hood and Derrick May and did a lot for the city, for techno culture there.

Is Berlin the techno capital of Germany?

If you’re from Frankfurt you would say that Frankfurt was always the city. But I’m from Berlin, so I would say Berlin. There was always this connection between Detroit and Berlin, especially with Tresor. So maybe that’s why Berlin became the Mecca of techno. So many artists move to Berlin. I spoke today about it with Function, and he said he was getting more inspiration in one year in Berlin than he got in the last ten years in New York. I think this will change again sometime soon; it will be a different city. I hear so many people saying that Berlin is like New York was back then, and that they’re not sure how long it will stay like this. It will get commercialized everywhere. There are areas where they’ve built these business buildings where there used to be alternative bars and stuff like that, so it’s already changing. But still, it’s a great city for living relatively cheaply and for making art. Sometimes when I hear about all these people moving to Berlin, especially in the electronic music scene, sometimes I think, ‘Why don’t some people just stay where they are?’ because I don’t want Berlin to be the only techno city. I dunno, people used to go to Ibiza, and now they all come to Berlin to party. There are still great parties everywhere in the world, so I think it’s not the case that Berlin will be the only techno city, but it’s certainly the main techno city.

Do you think it’s a German thing?

I wouldn’t really say German culture has much to do with it, but the fact that the wall came down created this special situation in the city. In the East we had all the vacant places, all these buildings that didn’t belong to anyone, and you could just throw parties everywhere, and then just open up next week somewhere else. That was a good vibe for this music. The spirit at that time was a perfect match to the idea of techno.

Any last thought you would like to add?

There is one thing I would like to add. I don’t want to sound snobby. When I say we don’t want to pay attention to all the hype, it’s might seem like we don’t care. But we really do care and I really appreciate everything that is happening. A few years back, I always thought this was going to be big, that more and more people will appreciate what is happening around Ostgut and Berghain. I really believed in it, and I think when you really believe in something it will grow. You have an amount of belief and energy that you put into it and at some point it just has to grow, it’s just natural. But, on the other hand, I never would have expected that the music that we’re doing would get so much attention. I’m always surprised when I see young kids dancing in front of me who are 19 and I play the hardest banging techno from the mid-’90s and they say, ‘Yeeeahh!’ I wonder, ‘How do you appreciate this kind of music? You should be listening to some other crap.’

Well, as long as the music’s timeless…

But still I’m surprised sometimes because I think it takes a little bit of education to get into this music. They didn’t have the chance to grow up with this kind of music for years, so sometimes I’m really surprised that young kids are caught by this kind of intense music. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s nice to see that. There are so many other options, so many easier options, like more commercial, pleasant, catchy stuff that you can fall for. I think we kind of have a kind of mature approach to it. It’s fun to see people enjoying it.

You know a label has full confidence in one of its artists when they provide them the chance to make an album in spite of a scant discography. That’s just what Ostgut Ton did with Steffi Doms, whose debut LP arrived this week. Their confidence was well rewarded by Yours & Mine, a solid and dance floor-focused record which is sure to please DJs and home listeners in equal measures. This week’s download, “Mine,” is one of the Steffi’s most driving cuts, a powerful marriage of Chicago house percussion (dig the 808 rimshots) and incandescent pads and synth leads. Reverant, relevant, and downright catchy, “Mine” is the ideal track with which to start your weekend. Our thanks to Steffi and Ostgut Ton for offering this killer tune for free.

Download: Steffi, “Mine”

[Ostgut Ton]

While I never doubted the supreme bump and grind Ms. Steffie Doms achieves on her debut full-length, Yours & Mine, I wasn’t always sure how to approach it as an album. When I’m listening to a long-player, I don’t necessarily want to be “in the club” all the time. And Steffi has certainly taken us there before. “Kill Me,” her debut solo 12″, along with her recent “Reasons” release on Underground Quality, both missile-lock on a groove with precise elegance: they’re manifestations of house music at its most powerfully direct, with absolutely no excess fat to trim. Her tracks don’t all sound the same, but her discography doesn’t yet boast the sort of breadth of styles that often makes for solid artist albums; and the clips that started popping up late last fall made it apparent Steffi wasn’t straying too far from her bread and butter. A producer doesn’t have to faithfully execute 15 genres and 46 different tempos, but an album should take you somewhere, maybe to a place we’ve yet to go with her.

The idea of an album’s worth of Steffi bangers is of course tasty for DJs, but it’s a whole lot of thump for mere listeners to size up. But what I’ve come to realize about Yours & Mine — what’s brought me around to how lovely it is — is that she makes it work by making it personal. While these nine blistering house tracks adhere to the fundamentals with the sort of zeal we expect from Ostgut Ton, they don’t militantly tow some line about what house music should be or mean. Instead, Steffi is inviting us into her love affair with this stuff, taking us deep inside her personal party space. Whether you’re there on a packed night or have the dance floor all to yourself, it’s a pretty fantastic place to be.

Nine dance cuts back-to-back is indeed a hefty load, but I’m hesitant to recommend approaching this set any other way. Fixating on one or two or four cuts from the bounty will surely cause you to leave something out. For DJs, Yours & Mine might be one of the best things to happen to your record bag in quite some time; given a time slot long enough, you could conceivably work all of these into a single set without boring anyone. But while the quality is uniform — each track is good in more or less the same way — Steffi switches up the small things enough to keep you from overexerting yourself. From the vocal-driven devastation of “Yours ft. Virginia” (a step up in form from the already excellent “Reasons”) to the Fred P-reminiscent dreaminess of “Arms” and “Nightspacer” to the razor-sharp pulse of “Mine,” Steffi gives us a reading of house that feels both unabashedly reverent and utterly contemporary. In other words, she lets house get back to being house, freeing it from the sort of polemics that sometimes accompany this kind of thing (think Midtown 120 Blues or Shedding The Past). For Steffi, the strongest argument for house is the sound itself, and I’m hard-pressed to think of something more persuasive.

Yours & Mine is in no way a departure: she’s still utilizing the same crisp sounds and clear arrangements that thus far been her signature. Though she’s apparently been working on music for quite some time, her discography is still rather short, and I think putting together an album of wildly new sounds would have been premature. The album is instead a crystallization of a particular feeling, one Steffi has been kind enough to share with us. While I don’t foresee a time when this thing leaves my bag, I also see it digging its heels into my iPod. Whether driving an epic party of thousands or a bedroom freakout of one, Yours & Mine is about as right-on as house music gets.