[Dial]

Dial co-founder Peter M. Karsten is better known under his more prolific Lawrence alias, but his recordings as Sten are just as worthy of attention. His second full-length album, The Essence, compiles (on the CD version, at least; the LP version varies slightly) three previous singles (including his most recent, “Way To The Stars” and its two b-sides) alongside a handful of new tracks, resulting in one of the deepest long players of 2008.

Opener “The Essence” sets the template right away, as a dark, atmospheric wave gives way to a deep bass kick, hissing hi-hat, and crisp snare, conjuring the classic Detroit techno sound given a shiny new coat of black paint. Eventually, some lighter keyboard stabs and chords bubble to the surface, but this is most certainly a night drive soundtrack. “Unknown Faces,” the title track, and “The Gate” are stripped-down percussion-based tracks, while “More Stash” is a builder, working from the shifting foundations of echoed bass and percussion bounces, reminiscent of latter-day Plastikman work.

The three singles, as expected, are the most infectious things here. “Take Me To The Fridge,” originally released in 2006, deftly combines a treated vocal line, shimmering genie-like glissandos and a rubbery bass groove — an unlikely combo that gets under your skin more with each listen. But its chilly funk doesn’t fit with the rest of the material particularly well. A better fit is the electro-minded “Squares,” with its menagerie of overlapping bleeps and blips over a bed of space noises and a popping robo-beat. “Way To The Stars” closes the album on a definitive high note, as a Derrick May-inspired riff rises from a cosmiche swirl, a nifty summation of all that has come before.

Kersten creates a shadowy moodfrom the get-go and spends the rest of the album admiring the shapes thrown from the few spare sources of light. While his Sten material isn’t as club-friendly or immediate as his Lawrence work, it is certainly just as rewarding, especially when the lights are low.

[Dial]

Dial had been releasing its lean and emotive variety of techno/house for nearly seven years before breaking to a larger audience, but the recognition could hardly have come at a better time. Last year the Hamburg-based label, owned and operated by Peter M. Kersten (Lawrence/Sten), Turner and Carsten Jost, cranked out two of their best releases to date — Efdemin and This Bliss by Pantha Du Prince — upon which a great deal of praise were deservedly heaped. With fans and DJs craving minimal techno and house infused with feeling (the harbinger of today’s deep-house revival), Dial and its back catalog proved ready, even prescient. Having seen the future, Dial focuses on the present with it’s first release of 2008, You Are My Mate, which re-introduces the labels’ stars over the course of five all new tracks.

The compilation also serves as a launching pad for the hotly-tipped collaboration between Carsten Jost and Carsten Klemann, My My’s DJ arm. Their “CC01 (Detroit)” is surprisingly fully formed, bouncing between fuzzy and clear tones over stereo-panned drums, layered with somber piano chords which linger, and bolted in place by zealous claps and hi-hats (although I could do without the trite “Detroit” vocal sample). Also making his first solo appearance on wax is Oliver Kargl aka Rndm, one half of Pigon with Efdemin. In fact, his “Wakefield” is certainly a highlight of the compilation, which fires off evocative vocal bursts above humming synth pads and squelchy and stunted stabs.

Pigon, however, frustrates on its own contribution. Whereas previous tracks like “Promises” found the sweet spot between repetition and development, “Helios” milks its low key riff and tight tom pattern for too long before releasing slightly spooky synth noodles, which themselves underwhelm. Sten fairs better by offering his take on resonating, Mountain People-eque synth work and rolling hand drum percussion on “Fortune.” For his first track since the album, Pantha Du Prince forgoes beats all together and concocts a sighing ambient soundscape with an almost shoegaze quality about it.

That You Are… closes with Phantom/Ghost covering a Right Said Fred track of the same name is poignant, as its simplistic piano/vocal arrangement and sympathetic gait neatly sum up Dial’s appeal with a bit of cabaret flair. Perhaps that’s a stretch, but if nothing else it shows Dial will still take chances, which has already paid off. You Are My Friend is an enjoyable compilation which portends good things for the rest of the year.