Conceived as the imaginary eighth album in her discography-in fact, it’s the third-it finds the Welsh musician abandoning her usual hallmarks in favor of stark, industrially tinged beats and ominously looped vocals. Kelly Lee Owens spent the first seven or eight years of her career striking a careful balance between clean-lined techno and atmospheric electronic pop, but she took a sharp left turn with this year’s LP.8. ![]() It feels like an autobiographical scrapbook of where he’s been-and where he’s going. The San Francisco-based musician’s own tracks stand out for the way he works field recordings from around the world-Syrian street musicians, fireworks over a soccer match-into percussive dancefloor fare, and he’s got a similarly wide-ranging touch here: Just check the stretch that takes him from the controlled chaos of his labelmate Taraval’s “ Aardvark” through the bhangra-ballroom fusion of Chandé & yourboykiran’s “ Pani Puri Pirates” and into the blissful Ghanaian highlife of Pat Thomas & Kwashibu Area Band’s “Gyae Su.” From there, the screaming zurna of Tchaparian’s own “GL” propels him straight into vintage jungle from Goldie. It also makes for a pretty comprehensive cross-section of Tchaparian’s tastes, heavy on chunky breakbeats, skippy garage rhythms, and bright, chiming melodies. His Bleep mix extends his musical career’s friends-and-family vibe, peppered with tunes from pals and peers like Daphni, Chloé Robinson, Altrice, and Four Tet himself. I feel nothing when I listen to it.” But judging from his Cxemcast, he’s again found something crucial in dance music: a sense of release, however fleeting.Ī former tour manager for Hot Chip and Four Tet, Armenian-British producer Hagop Tchaparian recently stepped up with his debut album on Four Tet’s Text label. In June, in a New York Times story about the Cxema community’s response to the war, Patselya admitted, “At the moment I don’t see the sense of electronic music. Along the way, he takes minor detours-rattling breakbeats, jazzy electro-but for the most part it’s a focused blast of warehouse-shaking techno. His set for the ongoing podcast series from Cxema, a roving party at the vanguard of the city’s club culture, captures the white-knuckled energy of Kyiv’s techno scene in happier days: It’s fast and relentless, full of muscular rhythms and stern, metallic synths. ![]() After the invasion, DJ Oleg Patselya stayed behind and cofounded Kyiv Angels, a team of volunteers assisting military and civilians around the country, but he’s continued to make music when he can. Until Russia invaded Ukraine in February, Kyiv was developing a reputation for its rapidly expanding techno scene. Like all the best sets, the bookends are what hold it together: an extended edit of Carl Craig’s “Domina” remix to blast us off, and the one-two punch of Bronski Beat’s “Smalltown Boy” and John Holt’s “ For the Love of You” to bring us coasting gently back to earth. The aforementioned Nisennenmondai cut makes for a scintillating blend with the Prodigy’s “Your Love,” of all things, before new releases from Pangaea, Nick León, and Floating Points bring us back up to date with bass music and UK techno. ![]() A while later-past a new cut from Daphni, an old one from Mathew Jonson, and an absolute chestnut from John Acquaviva-a wiggly acid remix of Kelis’ “Milkshake” is another unabashed crowd pleaser. Perhaps the first indicator of just how fun the London DJ’s Dekmantel set is going to be comes scarcely eight minutes in, when Cardi B’s “Money” a cappella drops into a rubbery tech-house groove and goes bouncing along it for what feels like eons, earwormy as a playground chant. Not many DJs could convincingly fit Japanese noise minimalists Nisennenmondai and ’90s progressive house in the same set, but that kind of range and audacity is part of what makes Call Super such a joy to behold behind the decks.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |