[Uzuri]

When you see the Uzuri label, you can kind of guess what sort of sound to expect: lush, analog deep house with gently massaging bass lines, percolating drum machines, and pleasingly vintage synths. The debut from new trio Pittsburgh Track Authority (featuring Tom Pipecock of Infinitestatemachine) brings these traits in spades, but is bolstered with a loose and limber sense of group interplay that makes them one of the most exciting prospects the London-based label has yet offered.

Simply put, The First Four EP cooks like a jazz trio in its prime, an impression established from the beginning with “Duskshaped,” a collaboration with fellow Pittsburgh producer Nice Rec. Hedging forward on a lightly bumping bass line, the track lazily outstretches its arms over jazzy vibes and whistling synths that squiggle out in long, luxurious lines. Lest that all sound a little too lite FM for you, “Vertical Impact” should do the trick, a lightly syncopated chugger underpinned by squelchy chords and a well-placed wooden mallet that makes the ending of every four-bar measure feel like an event, keeping the momentum just under boiling point like the expert jammers they are. It unexpectedly breaks down into an almost Italo-esque shower of synth chords before slamming headfirst into a newly-emboldened groove with handclaps and strings, perfectly exemplifying the trio’s unique, synchronized improvisational feel.

The other two tracks share the low-slung, loping feel, with “Bloodlands” simmering on tastefully reverbed percussion and dubby chord stabs, the more cerebral qualities somewhat drowned out by a looped chant that nevertheless forcefully carves out a welcome for itself. Returning to the explicitly jazzy tropes of the opener, “77B,” coasts on vibes and syrupy boogie bass as strings that sound like they were peeled off an old disco record beam in from above. It can sometimes be hard to elucidate exactly what makes this kind of retro-leaning music great, or justify lavishing it with praise, but there’s something so refreshingly seasoned about the way Pittsburgh Track Authority build their tracks — with handclaps in just the right places to push the groove without toppling it over, synths that accent the groove without taking the spotlight, and so forth. In a world where amateurs can get exposure after only a few hours of practice in rudimentary computer programs, Pittsburgh Track Authority show what’s possible when you wait until the time is right to make your debut.

Dance music has always had a DIY spirit that puts punk to shame. Not in a band? Just put on some records. Can’t play an instrument? Buy a sequencer. Can’t get signed? Start your own label. It is this mindset that brings us Disco Nihilist’s first release, in both literal and aesthetic terms. Label Love What You Feel is masterminded by Thomas Cox — proprietor of infinitestatemachine and frequent LWE commenter — who discovered the Austin, Texas producer’s work through Myspace. The process of putting out the record (no surprise, it’s vinyl only) has even been documented in a series of posts on ISM. The label seems to be aptly titled; this is not the work of professionals or insiders, but of dedicated fans.

It is not only the release of the record that bears the traces of that bricolage approach characteristic of early dance music. The press release proudly proclaims that Disco Nihilist not only produces his tracks on analog sequencers, he records them to cassette tape. It sounds like it. No movie-soundtrack pads here, no swooshing breakdowns, no Pro-Tooled diva vocals. If this record is out of touch with the present, it’s because it reclaims the music of the past’s insistence on sounding like the future. While overproduced dance music makes use of technology in a manner reminiscent of Transformers 2, Disco Nihilist’s work is more like Shane Carruth’s 2004 masterpiece Primer: low budget, low profile, and highly awesome.

These four untitled tracks are clearly made by someone who loves house music, has studied it closely, and has trimmed it down to essentials. Snare rolls and kick flutters on “A1″ weave through insistent chords and a funky 303, with deep, meditative results; “B2″ makes a similar formula dark and aggressive. “A2″ is a sparse workout for blips and beeps, while the dubby, spaced-out “B1″ milks an 808 cowbell for all it’s worth. Which is a hell of a lot, in case you were wondering. This record is an auspicious debut for both artist and label — hopefully the future brings not just more from them, but more like them as well.