[Honest Jon's Records]

Even though he began his career in partnerships with Appleblim, Gatekeeper, Mordant Music, and others, it’s difficult not to think of Shackleton as a lone wolf. Over the last few years, releases like Three EPs and Fabric 55 have solidified his voice as one of the most individual in dance music. Pinch, Shackleton’s collaborator here, has worked alone just as much, but his sound tends to be a bit more malleable. Last year’s Croydon House revealed a new willingness to experiment with more energetic takes on dubstep sonics, and that sensibility is manifested on Pinch & Shackleton.

It would be quite a task to pinpoint exactly who’s contributing what, but the LP does bear a strong resemblance to the heady, pressurized atmosphere of the aforementioned Shackleton albums. Moreover, it matches their rhythmic complexity, combining an array of rolling syncopations — composed of synthetic and organic drums alike — with hulking, snakelike sub lines. The resultant undercurrent has such a commanding presence that it’s almost easier to define the tracks by their slight deviations from one another.

“Cracks In The Pleasuredome” is an ideal opener, building from sparse dubbiness into steely synths that sound like storm clouds rolling in, matched by a tripping rhythm underneath. The ominousness introduced here is furthered in the tracks that follow. “Jellybones” melds an urgent, sometimes reversed pattern of something resembling a cowbell with solemn church organ, while the spacious “Torn and Submerged” is the closest the release gets to traditional dubstep, hooked almost entirely by its booming bass line. The dramatic pads on “Rooms Within a Room” usher in a cinematic midsection — “Selfish Greedy Life” formulates around one of Shackleton’s trademark self-help samples, constantly repeated and tweaked above muscular plumes of bass weight until the track breaks into a kinked, hypnotic second half. If the record has a centerpiece, it’s definitely “Levitation.” What begins as tense, churning menace opens into a tender melody and then elegiac choral vocals, sounding like a beacon of hope breaking through the claustrophobia. It doesn’t last long, though, as Pinch and Shackleton plunge back into the darkness for the remainder of the record — the closing track “Boracay Drift” revives the chanted vocals, but they’re marked with a lot less hopefulness than “Levitation.” Pinch & Shackleton is an incredibly complex record, and though each track is unique from the last, nothing is out of place. It’s a journey more than anything, a tour de force from two master producers.

[Fabric]

When it was announced that Shackleton would helm Fabric 55 I was a little surprised. The legendary London club’s flagship mix series has been known to be a little stuffy — generally high standards regardless, it’s usually reserved for techno and house. It’s all the more surprising because there is literally no one who sounds like Shackleton, and Shackleton doesn’t seem like the type of artist to concede to other people’s expectations. His music carries traces of genres, but only in virulent strains that infect and invade specific sectors, mimicking the music‘s own viral nature as elements multiply and implode at seemingly random intervals. Hints of techno and dubstep surface in the occasional kick drum or halfstep beat, respectively, but that’s as close as it gets to classification. Even better, Fabric 55 is not your typical DJ set: a live set of all original material — some new, some old — it bears most obvious resemblance to landmark previous entries by Omar-S or Villalobos, and like those releases, it’s a memorable statement that hews closer to indelibility than your regular mix CD.

In some ways, Fabric 55 is like the ultimate Shackleton album. After two incredible compilations from his own label Skull Disco, Three EPs on Perlon was the closest he’d come, but even that felt more like nine separate stark stone pillars of exotic desolation rather than a proper album. So while this mix might not have the same predictable progression as the usual thumping DJ set, it does the Fabric series one better, painting an immersive (and sometimes frightening) world out of smooth strokes of gray-scale. It’s 75 minutes of panicked respiration and painfully probing introspection, the sound of Shackleton’s universe swallowing itself up with steely resolve, themes and patterns colliding for a singular and unified monolith of convulsing sound.

As such, it’s hard to pick out individual moments in Fabric 55, despite the fact that this is a career-spanning mix reaching far back into the Shackleton catalog for all manner of memorable classics. Instead, each track is subsumed into the next, veering around sharp corners in cobwebbed catacombs rather than conventional beat-matching or crossfading. The lightly tribal percussion sweeps and dips over a churning, endlessly-searching low end full of autonomous tendrils and unforeseen tangents. Shackleton’s labyrinthine bass lines go on forever, winding and turning in hard right angles much like the dank tunnel imagery his music tends to evoke: when they run into each other constantly as presented in his live set, the effect is disorienting, where abrupt turns become hypnotically wrenching circles. That motion-sick hypnosis renders Fabric 55 with a physically exhausting sense of strained inertia — when you go in circles you aren’t really going anywhere, after all — only reinforced by the blood-draining dread embedded deeply, subconsciously into Shackleton’s music.

Over the course of the mix, the combined impact of bleak tracks and foreboding rumblings brings together and subversively makes palatable the xenophobic and paranoid tropes of the post-9/11 world. Exotic, vaguely Middle Eastern sounds are muddled into something more musically Western, something that occasionally approaches dance music. That’s why Shackleton’s live set is so bewildering, blackened and oblique, yet beguilingly accessible. A set of “tunes” built in unfamiliar shapes, bled together with bass lines that pry the tracks open like leeches without discernible progression as they echo into each other, it’s something like the ultimate realization of dubstep’s original potential for destruction through deconstruction. Rooted somewhere in a genre that was conceived in the spirit of slowing down and re-valuing empty space, Shackleton puts together his own spatially-obsessed brand of dance music out of the tattered remains of UK bass and makes something that feels impossibly removed from everything else. Akin to the way Kassem Mosse constructs otherworldly and dilapidated house music out of metallic shards and broken drum machines, it’s fervently committed to its determined and defined aesthetic, sonically consistent and unmistakable, and the furthest thing from a gimmick.

I haven’t mentioned any individual tracks because, really, I don’t have to. Fabric 55 transcends its original material — and its enticingly new and exclusive tracks and interludes — by being more than the sum of its parts. Of course, there are moments that stand out; the unnerving self-help monologue of “Negative Thoughts;” the nerve-wracked and artificially isolated choir of “International Fires;” the tabla worship of “Man On A String.” These are all moments that might stick out, but likely only if you’re watching the tracklist like the trainspotter you might really be. Getting lost in music is usually more of a romantic ideal than any kind of reality, but it’s one that seems made for Fabric 55, as the stone-reinforced hedge maze of twists and turns proves conducive only to confusion; the only solution is giving up and admitting defeat to Shackleton’s oppressive and apocalyptic atmosphere. It’s kind of hard to read track titles when your head is spinning. Not only is Fabric 55 completely out of the norm for the series, it’s a mix where the component parts are completely irrelevant, rendered homogeneous in a manner of magical synthesis so many DJs can only dream of. It’s enough to give one hope for the renowned but aging mix series, and for troubled mix CDs in general: what does it mean when one of the best and thoroughly conceived electronic albums in years is actually a mix CD?

No one else sounds like Shackleton. Sure, there were artists who may have presaged his sound or producers who cling to his coattails, but the man and his music are entirely singular. That’s why listening to Fabric 55, composed entirely of his own work, was like stepping into an alien planet where every living thing breathes his music. One of several new pieces to appear in the mix was “International Fires,” a track whose punishing sub-bass, swirling congas, vocal stabs and seemingly languid pacing could have easily been a part of his Perlon 3XLP, Three EPs. Both a compelling appetizer for the full mix and a solid track on its own, “International Fires” is one of the few haunting pieces of media you’ll want to keep playing. Thanks to Shackleton and Fabric for making this available for free.

Download: Shackleton, “International Fires”

Today London’s beloved superclub, Fabric, announced that it’s house is once again in order and banished woeful tales of administration. In case you need proof that it’s business as usual, check out the line up for July 3rd: Room one hosts The Nothing Special, with live performances by Shackleton, Pole, and Deadbeat, and a DJ set from resident Craig Richards. Room two features Marcel Dettmann, Shed (live) and Martyn. Room three rounds out the line up with Nina Kraviz and resident Terry Francis. Since we can’t attend, we’re sending you and a friend in our stead. All you have to do to win two tickets is correctly answer our trivia question: On what label did Shackleton make his vinyl debut? Send your answer (with “NOTHING SPECIAL” in the subject) to editor[at]littlewhiteearbuds.com by July 1st at 10am CST. One winner will be chosen from correct responses and notified by email. Good luck!

10. Patrick Cowley & Jorge Socarras, Catholic
[Macro] (buy)
Re-issues are already the perfect gift from record labels to collectors. They don’t appear on the horizon like new releases but sneak up unexpectedly from behind, pleasantly spinning the focus around for a moment. Like mortar, they put that elusive and essential brick firmly in place, or they fortify that worn and weary copy ensuring both the completeness and endurance of a collection. As a previously unreleased collaboration between Jorge Socarras and disco demigod Patrick Cowley, Macro’s impressive gift of Catholic in 2009 does so much more. Not only inspiring re-appreciation of one of disco’s legendary auteurs, it calls for a reassessment of what we know about Cowley, deepening our understanding of an already rich musical endowment. The surprising stylistic scope of Catholic only adds to its charm, demonstrating the underlying musical promiscuity of the late 70′s and early 80′s and allowing new lines to be draws in the lineage of electronic and dance music. It’s not often that something this new, unanticipated, and exciting comes up from the past, but when it does, you really appreciate the present, bow and all. (Andrew Clapper)

09. Animal Collective, Merriweather Post Pavilion
[Domino] (buy)
Merriweather Post Pavilion is undoubtedly this list’s most controversial entry, but what’s less certain is why it’s earned such notoriety. Too close to indie rock for some, sure; too rapturously embraced by indie music press/audiences, true, but hardly Animal Collective’s fault. Although there’s no accounting for taste, I’d aver the apprehension has much to do with jealously guarding the electronic realm from arriviste experimental rockers, even if they crafted one of the year’s most striking electronic albums that offers nothing to fear. The jaunty, hook-filled tunes leaping from Animal Collective’s latest LP are often the product of synths, sequencers, drum machines and voices, with guitar and bass licks providing texture instead of leading the way. But their gear choices are only means to a colorful, densely packed end: Ragged tones and twinkling loops enrich and balance tunes that skirt the borders of pop and experimental abstraction with apparent glee. They’ve created a deeply personal album whose sentiments resonate as strongly as its clever arrangements, inviting listeners into the comforting arms of “Also Frightened,” to consider their natural urges on “Guys Eyes” and artistic proclivities on “Taste,” to cheer up family and friends alongside “Brother Sport” and sing oneself hoarse to Recession-era anthem “My Girls” as the guys channel Frankie Knuckles. Taken together, Merriweather Post Pavilion is a complete package of dazzling sounds, excellent songwriting and personality to spare. In a year crammed with rock-oriented artists trying to incorporate electronics into their sound, Animal Collective have emerged as plugged in friends, not foes. (Steve Mizek)

08. Ben Klock, One [Ostgut Tonträger] (buy)
“Ain’t no happiness, ain’t no sadness” was the Elif Bicer-vocaled refrain to the catchiest moment on Ben Klock’s debut album, One. Bicer might as well have been describing the album, which went beyond simple black and white emotions with its many different shades of gray. If this makes One sound dully monochrome, then the description is misleading. Possibly the most varied full length to come out on Ostgut Ton thus far, it nonetheless pulled reduced techno, Chain Reaction dub, flecks of house, and a sprinkling of dubstep into a unified, distilled and purified whole. In a record so consistently excellent it’s tough to pick out highlights, but the relentless early morning kick of “Gloaming,” or the brutal organ stabs of “Grip” offer easiest access for the uninitiated. Eschewing such “obvious” feelings as happy or sad, One offered far more complex and enthralling sensations to be a good deal better than “OK.” (Peder Clark)

07. Redshape, The Dance Paradox [Delsin] (buy)
Right from the very first burst of jangling percussion and mysteriously icy, Amber-era Autechre inspired chords of “Seduce Me,” it was obvious the mysterious techno producer had successfully managed to translate the brooding sensibilities underpinning his deep techno EPs to the album format. However, there were two crucial differences between The Dance Paradox and Redshape’s back catalog. The first was that the producer worked with a drummer throughout the recording process, and flowing from this method, the album was more varied sounding than Redshape’s singles. While these traits are most obvious on “Rohrschach’s Game,” where drums tumble through a textured fog, bringing chaos to the textured ambience, the standout cuts sound more like a woozy combination of Redshape’s established sound. “Garage GT” unfolded to the sound of traffic noise and police sirens as the author laid down gloriously warm jazz keys, set to the ever present lumbering bass. “Dead Space Mix (Edit)” meanwhile, was an updated version of the B side from the first Present release, and saw Redshape go back to the bleep meets Detroit techno of Nexus 21, while “Man out of Time” was like a typical dance floor focused Redshape track dissected and re-imagined for home listening, its sprawling chords and rumbling bass flowing through a freeform prism. Despite this approach, there were other moments when Redshape reverted to type. “Bound (Part 1 & 2)” was like a successor to “Blood into Dust,” its buzzing bass line and crystalline synths building to a dramatic denouement, while “Globe” burnt brighter and went deeper than all the producer’s other brooding moments. If there’s one complaint about Paradox, it would have to be its brevity. At just eight tracks, it feels like Redshape was hitting his stride as it finished. Maybe it’s more to do with the fact that this writer would be happy to listen to the richness and depth of sound and prevailing mood, somewhere between miserabilism and euphoria, ad infinitum. (Richard Brophy)

06. Juju & Jordash, Juju & Jordash [Dekmantel] (buy)
Juju and Jordash are not your average dance producers. Accomplished guitar and keyboard players, respectively, the Israeli-by-way-of-Amsterdam duo defies expectation in origin and outcome. Their first widely released full-length presents their unique style as well as or better than their previous records have, permitting stomping dance anthems, like the mischievous single “Deep Blue Meanies,” to exist alongside intricate instrumental explorations like “Jugdish,” which sounds something like the Bill Evans trio on mescaline. Though that jazz influence is clear, from both their sound and their no-samples approach to production and performance, their cosmopolitan sound doesn’t stop there. Jamaican dub, Italian disco, American house, and German experimental rock also figure heavily into their work. Juju and Jordash have been bubbling under the surface of recognition for the past five years — earlier releases have appeared on Keith Worthy’s Aesthetic Audio, Reggie Dokes’ Psychostasia, and Jus-Ed’s Underground Quality — and with this remarkable LP, they are bursting through.
(Shuja Haider)

05. Bodycode, Immune [Spectral Sound] (buy)
After last year’s “Release,” we were primed for a meal-size helping of Alan Abrahams’ lush, sophisticated, abstracted vocal house. A well-sequenced selection of his dance-oriented new work would’ve done the trick. And we certainly got choice tracks — from “Hyperlight”‘s deep house debris to the burrowing reproach/plea of single “What Did You Say” to rattling anthem “Imitation Lover” — but Abraham did us one better, delivering an honest-to-god album that engages the length and concentration of the LP as house music seldom has. Immune‘s tracks drift into and echo off of one another, merged into a viscous and seemingly indivisible whole. Abrahams’ instantly recognizable compositional style and, yes, voice are crucial to this unity, but Immune‘s true bonding tissue is its pervading mood. The course of its human dramas already set, this is a music of introspection, reflection, regret, and melancholy. And somehow, Immune pronounces these feelings rhythmically, its poignance bound to the jack. Who knew that disappointment could move so seductively?
(Chris Burkhalter)

04. Martyn, Great Lengths [3024] (buy)
Some of the most talked about, ground-breaking and over-hyped records in 2009 all came from the dubstep camp. Martyn fit snuggly into the first two of these descriptives with his mind blowing Great Lengths album that marked out its own territory in the ever expanding dubstep universe. Any hype surrounding his debut full length though was duly earned; the Dutchman’s unique take on the narrowing divide between techno and dubstep was embodied with tough, embossed percussion, rarefied techno chords and heavy, rounded bass lines that never laid a foot wrong. While many artists now inhabit the neutral zone unoccupied by either dubstep or techno exclusively, few have managed to do so with an effortless grace as Martyn. Whether tooling with takes on deep house, chord heavy breakbeat or post-garage pressure, Martyn kept the balance between beauty and melancholy throughout the album’s entirety, adding to its appeal with a cohesiveness and digestibility often disregarded by electronic artists in album form. (Per Bojsen-Moller)

03. Shackleton, Three EPs [Perlon] (buy)
Even at Sam Shackleton’s most kinetic moments of dub-based munitions deployment, there has existed a fervent experimentalism in everything he has undertaken. Whether it has been the laissez faire approach to making his productions palpable club successes or a casual disregard for the very structures of what may deem a track to be called dubstep, it has been obvious from the first that inherent in Shackleton is to forge his own unique path through his music. His first proper artist album was no exception to his maverick style, giving us an aureate, densely layered work that doesn’t so much require repeated listening as demands it. For those familiar with Shackleton’s productions, Three EPs was no departure from anything he has done, but as a whole showed a much grander ambition. From the cohesive flow of the nine tracks to the locked grooves on the vinyl, Three EPs was been designed to be a listening experience and proved to be one that yielded further curiosities upon each listening. In its experimental regard it can be loosely likened to another of 2009′s stand-out releases, the Moritz von Oswald Trio’s Vertical Ascent. Though Three EPs may outwardly be more easily approachable, both are fashioned from recondite percussion programming and spend long periods of time teasing out central themes and ideas from studied, repeated rhythms. Shackleton’s album however is saturated with the deep thrum of bass patterns, the prevailing essence of dubstep that has stayed with him while he has gradually started erasing the lines between it and other genres. However this doesn’t equate to any of the tracks being suitable for club play, but then that is hardly the point here. Instead this is the result of a producer displaying the mastery of their unique sound and further setting themselves apart from their rivals, creating in the process an album that is timelessly classic. (Per Bojsen-Moller)

02. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent
[Honest Jon's Records] (buy)
Do you remember the first time you really heard techno? Not just let it drift passively through your ear canals, but heard it, felt it like you’d been waiting to feel it your whole life but are caught completely off-guard by it in the instant. I can remember my moment (or moments, rather: classics like Hawtin’s Decks, EFX & 909 and Luomo’s Vocalcity thumping on repeat in my sophomore year dormroom), and while I’m not sure I’ll ever plunge quite that deep again, the Moritz Von Oswald Trio’s Vertical Ascent takes me back to the excitement of elemental, expectation-defying sounds about as much as any record has since. Over just four ultra-extended deep grooves, Von Oswald, Max Loderbauer, and show-stealer Sasu Ripatti travel a veritable universe of alien, quasi-melodic landscapes: they give us abstract anthemics on “Pattern 1,” slasher movie moodiness on “Pattern 2,” gravity-defying tropicalia on “Pattern 3,” and the druggiest Rhythm & Sound side of all time on “Pattern 4.” It’s a record that doesn’t sound like techno so much as it fully embodies it in ways you never thought possible, reaffirming what got your brain racing and ass shaking in the first place. And nearly three decades since George Clinton and Kraftwerk met on that fateful elevator ride, it’s nice to know there are still a few stones left unturned. (Jordan Rothlein)

01. Black Jazz Consortium, Structure
[Soul People Music] (buy)
From Underground Quality, to Third Ear, to Uzuri, one of 2009′s resurgent aesthetics was stripped down, analog house — a sound no one pulled off better than Fred P., best known as Black Jazz Consortium. When Structure was released last March, hardly anyone had gotten over his seminal New Horizon EP, and the appearance of almost a dozen new tracks was virtually overwhelming. But while that EP focused on accessible, romantic house, Structure finds Fred P going much deeper and darker, experimenting with clunky rhythms, stark arrangements and odd time signatures. “New Horizon” may be his best song ever, but more austere tracks like “Tea-Pot Science,” “Something Old” and “I Want That” reveal how subtle and refined Fred’s technique really is. Using little more than perfectly constructed bass kicks, hand claps and a fistful of simple synth sounds, Structure outperformed every other album that came out this year. (Will Lynch)

++

Staff Lists:

Per Bojsen-Moller:

01. Martyn, Great Lengths [3024]
02. Shackleton, Three EPs [Perlon]
03. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent [Honest Jon's Records]
04. Ben Klock, One [Ostgut Tonträger]
05. Holger Zilske, Holz [Playhouse]
06. John Daly, Sea & Sky [Wave Music]
07. Intrusion, The Seduction of Silence [echospace [detroit]]
08. Linkwood, System [Prime Numbers]
09. V/A, 5 Years of Hyperdub [Hyperdub]
10. Black Jazz Consortium, Structure [Soul People Music]

Richard Brophy:

01. Redshape, The Dance Paradox [Delsin]
02. Legowelt, Vatos Locos [Crème Organization]
03. Traxx, Faith [Nation]
04. Demdike Stare, Symbiosis [Modern Love]
05. Bodycode, Immune [Spectral Sound]
06. Cio D’or, Die Faser [Prologue]
07. Patrick Cowley & Jorge Socarras, Catholic [Macro]
08. Ben Klock, One [Ostgut Tonträger]
09. Pendle Coven. Self Assessment [Modern Love]
10. Planetary Assault Systems. Temporary Suspension [Ostgut Tonträger]

Chris Burkhalter:

01. Black Jazz Consortium, Structure [Soul People Music]
02. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent [Honest Jon's Records]
03. SND, Atavism [Raster-Noton]
04. Broadcast and The Focus Group, …Investigate Witch Cults of the Radio Age
[Warp Records]
05. Atom™, Liedgut [Raster-Noton]
06. 2562, Unbalance [Tectonic]
07. Bodycode, Immune [Spectral Sound]
08. Junior Boys, Begone Dull Care [Domino]
09. Tevo Howard, Dreamer’s Reason Café [Beautiful Granville Records]
10. Cio D’or, Die Faser [Prologue]

Andrew Clapper:

01. Juju & Jordash, Juju & Jordash [Dekmantel]
02. Patrick Cowley & Jorge Socarras, Catholic [Macro]
03. Linkwood, Systems [Prime Numbers]
04. Black Jazz Consortium, Structure [Soul People Music]
05. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent [Honest Jon's Records]
06. Dam-Fun, Toeachizown [Stones Throw Records]
07. Ben Klock, One [Ostgut Tonträger]
08. Bodycode, Immune [Spectral Sound]
09. Maayan Nidam, Nightlong [Power Shovel Audio]
10. Bottin, Horror Disco [Bear Funk]

Peder Clark:

01. Ben Klock, One [Ostgut Tonträger]
02. Patrick Cowley & Jorge Socarras, Catholic [Macro]
03. Black Jazz Consortium, Structure [Soul People Music]
04. The Whitest Boy Alive, Rules [Asound/Bubbles]
05. Bodycode, Immune [Spectral Sound]
06. Mountains, Choral [Thrill Jockey]
07. Andrés, II [Mahogani Music]
08. Planetary Assault Systems, Temporary Suspension [Ostgut Tonträger]
09. Redshape, The Dance Paradox [Delsin]
10. Christian Naujoks, Untitled [Dial]

Shuja Haider:

01. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent [Honest Jon's Records]
02. Juju & Jordash, Juju & Jordash [Dekmantel]
03. Black Jazz Consortium, Structure [Soul People Music]
04. Linkwood, Systems [Prime Numbers]
05. Martyn, Great Lengths [3024]
06. Bodycode, Immune [Spectral Sound]
07. Redshape, The Dance Paradox [Delsin]
08. Black Meteoric Star, Black Meteoric Star [DFA]
09. Ron Trent, Dance Classic [Prescription Classic Recordings]
10. Hieroglyphic Being, So Much Noise 2 B Heard [Mathematics Recordings]

Todd Hutlock:

01. Intrusion, The Seduction of Silence [echospace [detroit]]
02. Shackleton, Three EPs [Perlon]
03. Martyn, Great Lengths [3024]
04. Matias Aguayo, Ay Ay Ay [Kompakt]
05. Etienne Jaumet, Night Music [Versatile Records]
06. Lawrence, Until Then, Goodbye [Mule Electronic]
07. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent [Honest Jon's Records]
08. Redshape, The Dance Paradox [Delsin]
09. The Field, Yesterday And Today [Kompakt]
10. Brock Van Wey, White Clouds Drift On And On [echospace [detroit]]

Anton Kipfel:

01. Bodycode, Immune [Spectral Sound]
02. Shackleton, Three EPs [Perlon]
03. Martyn, Great Lengths [3024]
04. Animal Collective, Merriweather Post Pavilion [Domino]
05. Lindstrom & Prins Thomas, II [Eskimo Recordings]
06. SND, Atavism [Raster-Noton]
07. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent [Honest Jon's Records]
08. 2562, Unbalance [Tectonic]
09. Patrick Cowley & Jorge Socarras, Catholic [Macro]
10. Redshape, The Dance Paradox [Delsin]

Kuri Kondrak:

01. Juju & Jordash, Juju & Jordash [Dekmantel]
02. Agore, Memories [4 lux]
03. 2562, Unbalance [Tectonic]
04. Black Jazz Consortium, Structure [Soul People Music]
05. FaltyDL, Love Is A Liability [Planet Mu]
06. Redshape, The Dance Paradox [Delsin]
07. Future Beat Alliance, Patience and Distance [EeevoNext]
08. Reagenz, Playtime [Workshop]
09. Linkwood, System [Prime Numbers]
10. Aybee, East Oakland Space Program [Deepblak]

Will Lynch:

01. Black Jazz Consortium, Structure [Soul People Music]
02. Reagenz, Playtime [Workshop]
03. Whitest Boy Alive, Rules [Asound/Bubbles]
04. Losoul, Care [Playhouse]
05. Vladislav Delay, Tummaa [Leaf]
06. To Kill a Petty Bourgeoisie, Marlone [Kranky]
07. STL, Dub Techno Explorations [Something]
08. Kurt Vile, Childish Prodigy [Matador]
09. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent [Honest Jon's Records]
10. Juju & Jordash, Juju & Jordash [Dekmantel]

Chris Miller:

01. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent [Honest Jon's Records]
02. Shackleton, Three EPs [Perlon]
03. Reagenz, Playtime [Workshop]
04. Ben Klock, One [Ostgut Tonträger]
05. Animal Collective, Merriweather Post Pavillion [Domino]
06. Martyn, Great Lengths [3024]
07. Cio D’or, Die Faser [Prologue]
08. Vladislav Delay, Tummaa [Leaf]
09. Redshape, The Dance Paradox [Delsin]
10. Falty DL, Love Is A Liability [Planet Mu]

Steve Mizek:

01. Shackleton, Three EPs [Perlon]
02. Black Jazz Consortium, Structure [Soul People Music]
03. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent [Honest Jon's Records]
04. Martyn, Great Lengths [3024]
05. Animal Collective, Merriweather Post Pavilion [Domino]
06. Bodycode, Immune [Spectral Sound]
07. Redshape, The Dance Paradox [Delsin]
08. Juju & Jordash, Juju & Jordash [Dekmantel]
09. Trus’me, In the Red [Prime Numbers]
10. Planetary Assault Systems, Temporary Suspension [Ostgut Tonträger]

Jordan Rothlein:

01. Moritz Von Oswald Trio, Vertical Ascent [Honest Jon's Records]
02. Shackleton, Three EPs [Perlon]
03. Brock Van Wey, White Clouds Drift On And On [echospace [detroit]]
04. Martyn, Great Lengths [3024]
05. Atom™, Liedgut [Raster-Noton]
06. Stimming, Reflections [Diynamic Music]
07. Fever Ray, Fever Ray [Rabid]
08. Fuck Buttons, Tarot Sport [ATP]
09. Black Jazz Consortium, Structure [Soul People Music]
10. Juju & Jordash, Juju & Jordash [Dekmantel]

[Perlon]

Despite his dubstep pedigree, Sam Shackleton’s association with Perlon really hasn’t raised many eyebrows. “Blood On My Hands,” his seminal 9/11 anti-anthem caned by Cassy and eventually remixed to mindblowing effect by Ricardo Villalobos, introduced the minimal scarf-wearing set to the British producer’s tribal, ethereal take on bass music. By the time Shackleton returned Villalobos’ favor with his labyrinthine, original-besting take on “Minimoonstar” for Perlon in 2008, the technoid wing of dubstep — thanks in no small part to the Shack’s beefed-up Muslimgauze breaks — had already burrowed itself so deeply into techno that Shackleton actually felt like a logical and hardly controversial addition to Zip’s and Markus Nikolai’s fabled roster.

I have one complaint for the most prestigious record label in European house and techno, and it’s a somewhat fussy one: while I honestly can’t name a bum Perlon release off the top of my head, I can’t think of one from the last couple of years that’s transcended the label’s quality standards and freakish consistency to offer truly surprising music. Shackleton, sort of by default, seems the hired gun most likely to muss up our expectations, but Three EPs — Shackleton’s Perlon-fronted debut LP — hardly shakes off the label’s reduced-yet-enhanced aesthetic. But can one honestly boil down such jaw-droppingly definitionless beat science to a “subtle tweak” on an established formula? Shackleton’s productions have often mined a primordial, unknown quadrant of the human psyche (though when Skull Disco wound down at the end of last year, his under-pitched excursions sounded fatigued and overly dependent on stereotypically near-eastern flourishes). Going two or three steps beyond our usual conception of deep, not to mention leaping ahead of Shackleton’s “Rusty Nails” white label remix for Moderat, Three EPs shelves dancing skeletons and the light at the end of the tunnel for a more open-ended exploration of whatever unnamed terror lurks just beyond our comprehension.

Like Zomby on One Foot Ahead Of The Other but with a somewhat smaller bag of skunk, Shackleton eschews separate and distinct album tracks for a kind of multi-part exploration of a single arrangement — hand drums and digital cymbals, nauseous organs, and a whole host of disembodied voices wade with greatest care through various incarnations of purgatory. And then there’s his bass: powerful yet surprisingly plaintive and unpredictable, it nimbly charts one of the strangest melodic courses you’ll hear on anything remotely resembling dubstep. When he’s on point with these elements, he’s unbelievably on point. “It’s Time For Love,” maybe the most subtly impressive moment in Shackleton’s discography thus far, finds multiple, incongruous melodies swirling around each other without quite resolving — an inscrutable arrangement that adds up to surprisingly tender moment. “Skull disco” indeed: despite ripping my cranium nearly to shreds, its expertly nuanced percussion keeps the track from drifting into the fog. The triplet feel of giant toms on “Let Go,” a moment reminiscent of the Villalobos and Andrew Gillings collaboration “Andruic & Japan,” thrusts manic, jazzy drum and bass interplay into moments of slow-motion levitation. When warbling, shroom-brained singers yell “Ay ay ay” over the track’s rapidly-shifting rhythms, you can’t help but wonder how Shackleton had the foresight to include your precise thoughts at that moment in his mix. Though generally keeping his tempos in the unrelenting range currently favored by buzz producers Untold and Joy Orbison, his somewhat slower compositions like “Moon Over Joseph’s Burial” and “There’s A Slow Train Coming” feel fresher, meaner, and more mystic than they have before.

The bass continuum has filled to the brim with wild, expansive productions as averse to genre affiliation as they are to a consistent downbeat. While the rosters of Hyperdub and Hotflush have churned out some albeit excellent wackiness, Shackleton here has thrown down the gauntlet to a scene he was instrumental in forging: eschew the bog standard, sure, but don’t let the prospect of supermassive subwoofers and the purple stuff break your ultimate focus. Like its closest referent in techno, Villalobos’ Perlon triple pack Thé Au Harem D’Archimède, Three EPs just skirts the rabbit hole by combining way-out compositional ideas with exceedingly impressive control over his tools. But I’d encourage Shackleton to continue tightening his gaze. The spoken word samples in a track like “(No More) Negative Thoughts” seems distracting at first blush, and familiar spiritual that bubbles up through “Asha In The Tabernacle,” while melodically adventurous, can feel at odds with the seriousness of the musical endeavor. Despite these minor quibbles, I’d be hard pressed to think of music more on-point and new from any electronic producer these days (save, perhaps, Moritz Von Oswald). It’s precisely the sort of quality we’ve come to expect out of a Perlon release while sounding very little like what we’ve come to expect out of dance music.

[Fifty Weapons]

Moderat’s album came and went, sounding exactly as everyone had expected while still being a successful and fully satisfying listen. Less successful, however, was the first round of remixes for obvious lead single “Rusty Nails.” TRG fashioned a peaktime remix that was perhaps too much so, while Booka Shade’s version was a thoughtless tech-house workout. Lucky for us, the Fifty Weapons imprint comes up with the “Unofficial” remixes on a limited, stamped white label that give two Moderat’s originals truly exceptional overhauls.

If you bought the deluxe version of “Moderat” then you’ve already heard Shackleton’s epic re-imagining of “Rusty Nails.” Thunderous rumbles collide with a portentous bass line that eventually sticks to a single note. Reverbed and reversed metallic drones cast ghostly shadows that surround Apparat’s best Thom Yorke impression. His vocals are pitched just enough to unsettle and obscure, but Shack keeps them mostly intact. Little remains of the Shackleton of “Hamas Rule” fame, but his attention to detail and capacity for dark atmospheres equal his best moments. It’s hard to say this any other way: this remix is essential listening and possibly my favorite remix released this year. Headhunter’s goes straight for the jugular of “A New Error,” paring a rumbling bass and stern kick with a midway breakdown into Moderat’s source material. Shards of “Rusty Nails” float around in T++’s remake as skipping noises and 2-stepping snare hits hover above a murky morass that can only be described as unique to T++. It feels it could go on forever and indeed does, ending in a locked groove of part ambient whirr and part Eraserhead imagery. All three producers are totally on point here, but Shackleton really steals the show. Bring on Part 2.

[~scape]

Of the new generation of dubstep producers, Sam Shackleton has proven himself to be the most receptive to crossing over with other genres in a mutually back-scratching manner. After famously remixing and being remixed by Ricardo Villalobos, Shackleton has more favors returned here. Reprising a combo first seen on last year’s Steingarten remixes project, Shackleton has two tracks from his forthcoming Skull Disco full-length remixed by Pole and Peverelist for a special vinyl release from ~scape, furthering the cross-pollination efforts.

Pole’s take on “Shortwave” takes things the furthest off the beaten path yet, as Stefan Betke wraps Shackleton’s skittering percussion attack in his trademark gauzy noise and radio signals, flickering in and out like a coded transmission from behind enemy lines. The tempo is kept down (for dubstep anyway) and there’s no bass to speak of, but somehow the rhythms manage to float through the sonic detritus regardless, becoming the skeletal frame on which Pole hangs his expertly manicured noise. This is an adventurous, great sounding mix — Betke is nothing if not a fabulous sound sculptor, and his work here sounds intense through headphones and expansive through speakers. Call it Berlin versus Bristol.

Peverelist’s mix of “You Take Me Down” is a more traditional dubstep excursion, but it’s a damn powerful one. Reprising Pole’s haunted radio theme at the outset, Peverelist soon ups the tempo and the intensity of the beats for a frenetic workout that plugs every visible gap with a rhythmic, ultra-percussive swing, all clang and clutter and echo, with a haunting flute melody whistling through the metallic trees in the breakdown. Dubstep hasn’t established itself as a permanent movement yet; it’s still a bit too young to be sure that it’s here to stay. It could stand a few more releases like this one, highlighting both the traditional ways and means of the genre and the readily adaptable nature of its various parts into new and interesting hybrids.

[Skull Disco]

Shackleton is consistent. Starting with the first pop of a drum on his singles, the percussion stays round and full, the bass cascades with uncanny depth, the space between is frigid. Shackleton’s sound is dark, opaque. From the elegiac wind blasts of “Blood on my Hands” to the outright menace of “Hypno Angel,” tone and texture hardly vary. The secret is in the drums. Unlike dubstep’s insistence on puncturing tracks with the monosyllable of a snare, Shackleton’s percussion delineates space. Like the rattled pause at the beginning of “Hamas Rule,” Shackleton leans into every tic, leaving negative space cruel and precise. A friend described his tracks as “utterly empty” and it’s true — in the bleakest, unnerving way.

As Shackleton’s first single for the Skull Disco in a year, “Death is Not Final” is a change. Gone is his dirge, the place where whimpers turned into growls. Like minimal techno’s embrace of him, Shackleton has returned the favor by adopting the 4/4 time signature. Empty spaces are harder to discern, but Shackleton never sounds lighter. His drums were always insistent, but on “Death is Not Final” they have turned insectoid — shinier, sleeker, kinetic, forbidding. Shackleton only offers a blank recant of a monologue and dubbed Arabic hook to cushion the crawl. T++ from Monolake offers a remix, but his dub and detune of the hook gets lost in the hiccup on the three and four.

[Wichita]

Those Simian boys sure know how to call in a favor, eh? So far, their singles have been remixed by Prins Thomas, Switch, Armand Van Helden, Luke Vibert, Riton, Graham Massey of 808 State, and the “Hustler” single extends that to include Kevin Saunderson, Jesse Rose and Shackleton. I didn’t expect to see that last name on the list, but I was instantly intrigued when I did. “Hustler” is a raucous jam of bleeping bluster and boundless sassy energy. S. Shackleton gives off a darker vibe in his aggressively structured and ethnically influenced tracks, oftentimes fitting in the dubstep paradigm. But ever the shapeshifter, his take on “Hustler” is a different beast altogether.

Shackleton rides the rails of a ticking house beat, bittersweet harmonic burbles washing against the sides of vocal samples in pools of reverb. He fires off riffs into empty space and watches as they stretch further and further over hugely expansive bass pulses. His choice of vocal selections and their echo-laden treatment lend gravitas to lyrics like, “Gotta do what’chu gotta do” and “to stay alive.” There’s no romanticism in the Shackleton’s tone. However, the chord progressions and timbres he uses are among some of the most ear-pleasing he’s produced, though far from the pop mayhem of the original. Shackleton held up a mirror to this tune and captured a ragged minimalism befitting of its subject matter. It seems a bit of Ricardo Villalobos (who famously remixed his dystopian tune, “Blood On My Hands,” to epic proportions) has rubbed off on this shadowy producer. I think Ricardo would be proud, if he’s not already spinning this somewhere right now.

Also, I reviewed Martin Buttrich’s new single, “Hunter,” on RA. Some might be surprised that I’m not a bigger fan of it, but it’s a letdown in my book, especially the snoozephonic “Hunted.” I feel like he’s got something better inside of him yet, or at least I hope he does.