Album Review: Lusine / ‘The Waiting Room’ (Ghostly International)

Lusine The Waiting Room

★★★★☆

A dread-filled visit to the dental or doctor’s surgery this is not. Seattle’s Jeff McIlwain marks the moment where his name is called again with steady electronics and deep club determiners, within the general handling of similar but divergent electro DNA. Its disparate inserts are obvious; the way it hangs together just as much, becoming frontline relevant from whichever angle it’s travelling from.

Exclusively electronic doesn’t make for a virtual world of polygon windows, regardless of “Stratus” stepping into a dodecahedron-shaped rash of looped synths. Lusine’s angles of cosmic disco represent the challenge of the album, attempting and usually succeeding in gathering degrees of emotion (not even to humanise particularly) from the angular and steadfastly mechanical or artificial. “On Telegraph” hypnotically moves in no direction in particular, and “February” is sure to be big once the weather is more charitable.

Standing next to more image-conscious electro-pop (“Get The Message”), Lusine’s methods fiddle with differing strands running hot and cold at the same time, juggling processed vocals made distant (“Another Tomorrow,” a love song handled by robots) with balmy synth provisions. The variations continue with “First Call” coming off as a sneakily slick Hot Chip effort with more plug-ins and jerks of machinery. For an album that’s not especially light, it is served well by a double definition of flexibility.

File under: Vector Lovers, Woolfy vs Projections, John Tejada

Compilation Review: ‘Fabric 68 – Petre Inspirescu’ (Fabric)

Fabric 68 - Petre Inspirescu

★★★☆☆

This is a dark, long, self-showcase of deep house that if spun any deeper would bypass the earth’s core and tumble out the other side of the globe. Leave this to hum in the background and it’s hardly the most immediate, dynamic mix bearing the Fabric name, never mind the argument of whether mixing all your own material is any sort of challenge or spectacle. Yet conversely showing an individuality that the flagship craves of all its contributors, Petre Inspirescu is a character of sorts. Half the time he cowers from the audience having not adjusted to the light that frames him; otherwise you visualize the Romanian scrabbling away, happily oblivious to his surroundings as he organizes a subterranean science slash archaeological dig for beats and pieces.

The mix is veiled in the unspoken and the unknown yet poses a sunken funkiness, a backbone of non-nondescript 4×4 against minor key scrapes and chimes, the slightest hint of the folk-based and the theatrical, the contradiction of the jet black against faraway pipers, after hours percussionists and random rhythm enhancers. “In Miriste” sounds as if it’s keeping its head just above boggy water; “Anima” and “Seara-n Crang” get closer to the truth and more from Inspirescu’s introversion, but contend with mournful or inquisitive orchestra extras. When in full stride, it clutches the straight and narrow hard (the grappling “Murgul”), but it may take time to get inside your head and stay there.

File under: Luciano, Steve Bug, Lee Gamble

Album Review: Mano Le Tough / ‘Changing Days’ (Permanent Vacation)

mano_le_tough_changing_days

★★★★☆

Aside from seeming to have invented or borrowed his stage name from a third-rate wrestler, the acclaimed collector of compliments Mano Le Tough is one to wear his heart on his sleeve at the same time as showing a softened shrewdness. With an understanding of electronic songs and pseudo-folk fusion, deep house to think to, and wavily-colored looks into a Balearic wishing well, it’s a debut record that has Niall Mannion moving around the dancefloor just when you think you’ve got him settled in one position.

There may be shrugs at the album’s early and returning pallor, such as on opening track “Cannibalize” and “Primative People” playing like a porch Jose Gonzalez with a little more electronic arsenal at his disposal. Progressively there becomes a selection of narrow yet expressive grooves to get into — “Everything You’ve Done Before” comes together like a patchwork orchestra — and a development of cosmic disco-themed color (“Changing Days”, the late check-in of “The Sea Inside”). With Mannion’s enigma coming to the fore, playing wary lookout on “Dreaming Youth” and humming sweet deep electro house nothings on “A Thing From Above” — and with, of course, a fit of vocal acting lethargically captivated, it becomes a good session of thoughtful headphone house able to tilt your sofa’s incline. Not a maker of big statements, but a creator of an accomplished presence and persona.

File under: John Talabot, Deniz Kurtel, Blackbelt Andersen

Compilation Review: ‘Art Department Social Experiment 003’ (No.19 Music)

art department social experiment 003

★★★★☆

The usual deep house majesty from the Art Department and No.19, but this time there’s a pressure pushing down on Experiment number three, a feeling that all connected are trying to keep their cool and enjoying the challenge of keeping the flustered at bay. A little tetchiness here and irritability there, a reoccurring state-of-the-union address, and in some cases, seeing if the warpath is clear for takeoff, it keeps moving forward the ethos of Jonny White and Kenny Glasgow. Darkly sophisticated, bass loaded (Brigante’s mix of Ali Love’s “The Jungle” forcefully using the feel-by-sound model), and anything but casual as it puts slashes into the session’s urbane upholstery, joints and muscles are rarely given a chance to loosen throughout.

Robert Owens takes over AD’s mix of “Tomorrow Can Wait,” dulcet tones reflecting ghostly-like upon Luca C & Brigante’s iced waters across nine minutes of back to ‘88 instruction that baby may want to ride — an illusion repeated on Jakkin Rabbit’s tech-enforced “Full of Dreams.” Jamie Jones’ “Doctor Blue” attempts to outrun a flickering synth cell, and Bryan Ferry’s suaveness becomes cautionary on Carl Craig’s testing, bubbling remix of DJ Hell’s “U Can Dance,” while the doldrums are most mined on AD’s authoritative “Robot Heart”. All told it’s a fairly unrelenting mix, building on its own brand of persuasion and only easing off a touch come its finale. Style and sweat in perfect harmony.

File under: Gregorythyme, Catz n Dogz, My Favorite Robot