Video nasty, slasher Grime. And it has the unashamed simplicity and starkness of a Carpenter soundtrack too.
A surprising rewind/nod to when elements of UKG were turning darker, before the days of DMZ et al. Dusty steppers with a bit of lean into Electro vibes (‘Adequate Force’).
“…utilising up to twelve skins” (Withnail & I, 1987)
I really have to plumb the Dubstep depths these days to find anything worth taking home…overfished to the point of being another endangered species – and the stocks that remain seem to get genetically weaker and weaker (lack of diversity or shrinking breeding grounds? we’ll leave that to the researchers).
I’d say I currently operate a 98% harvest return rate. Over the side. Back ya go.
Occasionally Mr. Focused Plod aka Youngsta‘s label trots out a tune or two, proving the old adage that even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day.
Icicle rolls the joint up nice and phat on ’NT’. Tasty, almost Gabber hard 909 hats stutter in at 2:45 and the plod starts to hint at something more pounding. Wish I hadn’t looked at the swellhead’s website though;
“Jeroen Snik – aka Icicle – is recognised as one of the most technically advanced and highly-respected producers in electronic music.”
A certain Brainbombs song comes instantly to mind…
There’s no rotting meat left on these bone dry, stripped clean, digital bashers from Frenchy Domenico Bercelli.
Schizoid and itchy, and ever so slightly irritating, hyper kinetic bass.
The usual Grey Area split of (less interesting IMO) 128bpm and (more tense, captivating) 85/170bpm excursions (‘Convergence’ & ‘Incoherent’) through intricately devised production line process.
Unsynched, metallic polyrhythms, sheets and blocks, glide past each other on vari-speed conveyor belts to undisclosed end points. Just as your brain thinks it has computed the pattern/groove it twists and bends into something else…
A strange feeling of intimacy. Up close observation. A dispassionate void. The machinations of AI automation. While there might be a certain amount of poetry in that (and it might be your kink?) there’s a niggling that this is just another souless interaction with another cybernetic organism?
God! This is about as grey and depressing as electronic music gets.
The continuum of dour people out there with bleak tastes (myself included at times…) shuffles on. Which is same as it ever was I suppose. It has the hopeless trudge of a prison exercise yard (and funnily enough Van Gogh’s painting immediately came to mind. Don’t ask me why? I’m a visual person with a ‘Fine Arts’ background ahem ahem, so I can’t help myself…nevertheless, the visual analogy seems perfect).
Round and round they go, heads down, lost in reverie, cut off from the real world.
Fair play though, the JK Flesh remix tries for a break out and nearly makes it over the wall too, managing to lash out with a vintage Reese – before he’s dragged back to solitary.