Applescal – rtfkt 01

Overshadowed by a host of club demigods like Deadmau5, Mouse on Mars and the mainstream domination of Skrillex, Applescal has long been throwing stones at giants. Crafting his own electronic sound since art school and taking it around the venues of Amsterdam, his sets are less demanding of your attention, yet totally absorbing, classy and full of variation, evolving sometimes gradually, sometimes dramatically but always toying with your expectations.

‘El Diablo’ begins with calm and phasing synths when suddenly, the whole track winds down like a cathedral sinking down a wormhole, allowing the leading element, a fuzzy, off key melody to take over. Dropping the temperature a little to a more soothing and disconnected groove, ‘Mr Cold’ is the most likely to continue past a casual listen. The third and final track, the ironically named ‘No Offence’, is the weakest by far. It appears at first to be a sort of satirical take on a filthy dubstep anthem but looses its punch to become not so much offensive, just plain irritating.

Still, it’s this kind of experimentation that will pay off in time. Applescal has grown adept at blending up different club styles as well as proving that the dance music staple, a simple layering of a tune over a few rolling beats still has plenty to offer. At just under twelve minutes long, the new EP is less of a bold new direction, more of a bold taster release from RTFKT. It’s solid stuff, considering it’s completely free to download, but seeing as his true talents reveal themselves on his remixes and lengthy live sets, I’m holding on for an album.

(© Copyright 2012 Brendan Morgan)

Scuba - Triangulation

Behind Scuba and Hot Flush Recordings is a man on a mission: Paul Rose. By chumming up with Mount Kimbie, Distance, Vex’d and other immanent electronic artists, his label is beginning to represent an off shoot of Dub Step, growing that little bit closer to the sun on every new release.

Drawing from his bedrock Dub Step origins, Rose unites warbling synths with a lush atmosphere as dense and as thick as acres of untouched rainforest. Triangulation is an extension of LTJ Bukem’s slowed down drum n’ bass spiked with the gut wrenching weirdness of iTAL tEK or Modeselektor; a kind of produced lounge Dub Step comparable to certain artists signed to Planet Mu and Ninja Tune.

With an impeccable sense of space and immersive calm, it retains the mix structure of Rose’s radio appearances: a slow, blended transition from one landscape to another simulating the out of body feeling of being in an isolation tank. The control is expertly handled, the use of sampled vocals simple but unusual. Thrown about by dub echo, they ricochet off tall buildings, past vast highways and dimly lit rain soaked streets. Eventually, once these images work into the background, the 90’s house influence I was so dubious about finding comes to light.

‘Before’ puts the fore mentioned vocal sampling to stunning effect and is easily the most memorable track on the record. Additionally, it’s worth checking out ‘Three Sided Shape’ and ‘So You Think You’re Special’, though I think you’ll want to listen and drop out to Triangulation in its entirety.

It all ends on ‘Lights Out’, an exhaled release of beautiful spirited vocals floating among the clouds would grace any early morning bong session. Scuba’s style might seem familiar to fans of IDM and modern techno but Triangulation’s tuneful facets advance his career and set him aside from the rest. The only criticism I can muster is about the creepy copyright tactics: a demonic overdubbed voice (probably Rose himself) reminds you on each track that this particular copy is a ‘promo copy’, and don’t you forget it. It’s a little unnecessary if not insulting. I mean, what else are we going to spend our dole on?

(© Copyright 2010 Brendan Morgan)

Nedry - Condors

It’s not surprising that it’s taken this long for Dub Step to be adopted by the arty crowd. The scene is an obstinate one, made up of dedicated zealots and purists; people who would rather put a bullet through their own head than see it corrupted by the fools at Radio 1. The popular London trio Nedry is so far the finest example of this Art Dub hybrid seemingly hailing from an alternative universe where Brighton based Natasha Khan was swept up the local Dub Step scene.

The argument as to whether or not the genre has suffered from increasing exposure is an argument I’m steering clear of, mainly out of fear. I know some long-time orthodox followers who would have my balls for listening to this kind of ‘betrayal’. So let’s keep it quiet shall we?

Anyway from where I’m standing, it’s a win-some-loose-some situation. Softening the mood and adopting more recognisable structure and instrumentation may stifle the unpredictability and danger of Dub Step – taking it out of the club is like ripping the heart from a wild animal. On the other hand, what we gain is emotional depth and, just as evolution has been proven key to survival, a longer life span. This takes us back to Nedry. A little like Bjork’s silky whispers in Vespertine (2001), Ayu Okakita’s voice cries out over the grimy and alien synths provided by knob gnomes Matt Parker and Chris Amblin. It’s these contrasts of sparkle and grime, man and machine that is Nedry’s most formidable weapon.

Proving much in the first two tracks (‘A42’ and ‘Apples & Pears’), Condors' perfect flow screams at me for a detailed analysis: in the awesomely named ‘Squid Cat Battle’ they borrow from the 90’s electro of Garbage, then ‘Scattered’ kicks it away with a violent riff over a sprinting break beat. ‘Condors’ brings in some Math-rock guitar duels while ‘Swan Ocean’ drifts along like water in a Hokusai painting. The gloaming texture of ‘Where The Dead Birds Go’ signals an end instilling in the album’s briefness a yearning for more. Their pipeline tour of Japan (a country already at one with the future) sheds a light on their ambitions.

Nedry may be more accessible than pure cut Dub Step but the characteristic skin crawling nastiness has lost none of its potency. Just don’t expect to skank to it, that’s all. For me, Condors is a sort of futuristic prophecy depicting the slow choke of dehumanisation, coming down as soft and as cold as snowfall – as well as, on a more universal note, substantial evidence of Dub Step’s versatility.

(© Copyright 2010 Brendan Morgan)