Electro Recommendations June 2012

Review: Dublin dwelling Italian Lerosa makes a fine addition to the still blossoming Apartment Records imprint with No Mad Rush, a diverse four track saunter through deep house finesse. With a discography that has graced revered imprints such as Further, Uzuri, Millions of Moments and Quintessentials there's a certain expectation that comes with a Lerosa release and this 12" adds credence to Apartment being a label that promises much. Proceedings open with the rippling analogue cosmos of "Combat" - a track dominated by the toad-like guttural bass - which dovetails nicely with the frenetic melody at the core of the expansive "Titanium." On the flip, "Slavery" wastes little time settling into a viciously energetic Detroit electro flex, whilst "Decisions" lollops sideways through the analogue drudge beneath a rattling industrial beat. A truly diverse EP!

Review: This Dalek Invasion 10" marks a superlative return to the Semantica label for Morphology, a Finnish duo who've making all the right noises with some select releases on Abstract Forms and Zyntax Motorcity. No clues as to who their favourite Doctor is, but the title track is filled with the sort of rippling electro funk they've carved a niche for on the aforementioned labels, rising from the mechanical mire into a crisp bout of 808s and midnight funk. Complementing this is the aptly titled "Journey's End" which is dominated by the infinitely spiralling circles of analogue colours which are squeezed out greedily over a rasping drum pattern like an overzealous cake decorator. Highly recommended!

Review: Minimal Wave return to their self-professed "First French love" In Aeternam Vale with a second LP-shaped trawl through the band's sizeable archive of cassette only releases. The Brooklyn imprint first introduced us to the work of the hugely prolific Lyon band with an eponymous LP of remastered material in 2009, and Dub Under Brightness proves to be just as important a release. The label points to an article on the band originally published by the Douche Froide magazine in 2002, where the journalist nails their appeal in the opening gambit - "There are bands that have been acting ruthlessly in the shadow for years, in a completely confidential manner, then one day chance (but does chance exist?) makes you find one of their recordings, listen to it, and at that moment you could kick yourself for not having discovered these soundscapes earlier and you try to find all of them". If you haven't indulged in the sounds of In Aeternam Vale yet, this eight track selection makes for a perfect introductory primer.

Review: Erik Travis has long been one of electro's most underappreciated producers, with a canon that ranks up with the genre's most revered practitioners. His lack of recognition may be attributed to the fact the bulk of his back catalogue has been released on his own no-frills F.A.C.T. imprint, a few noteworthy dalliances with Clone Crown Cuts aside. This 12" contains 10 tracks produced by Travis in the late 80s and early 90s under the FACT, Agency Of X and Tic monikers (the latter in collaboration with Juan E. Ortiz), four of which are previously unreleased. All 10 cuts are squeezed onto one record, meaning the delights are somewhat ephemeral, but all the more delicious for it. The offerings range from the breakneck electro of "What I Do To Make You Work" to the bassy bump of "Fact Dimension" and hip-house shaker "C'mon Babe". All in all a must for Travis completists and inquisitive newcomers alike.

Review: Depending on your predilection, the name Venetian Snares will either induce terror or delight. Aaron Funk's music has largely erred towards the aggressive and intense, but those fortunate enough to stumble upon his Last Step project have been privy to a broader tapestry of moods that eschew manic breakcore in favour of low-slung acidic grooves. This latest album, Sleep, is reportedly the result of Funk working on the fringes of his own consciousness at the time when all he really wants to do is have a kip. Stylistically, the Last Step approach is one of vintage brain dance; warm analogue synths give off mournful and intricate melodies, while lashings of expressive acid complement them. The beats are all decidedly vintage too, and largely in a laconic house remit, although to tag this as house music seems a bit of a stretch. Even in the depths of his most malevolent music, it's hard to deny the gift the man has for staggering complexities. Sleep is a shining exponent of that.