Tag: Call Super

  • Spring Flings and Rocks That Sing – TWC 45

    I’m trying out a bit of a different format for the blog post this week. Instead of a song-by-song mini review and breakdown it’ll be more of a free-flowing meditation on the playlist – though I’m still hoping to get more review-like writing on this platform. Part of the intention of the blog in the first place was to experiment more with form and practice to find a style of writing that works for me, so don’t be too surprised if the flux continues over the coming weeks. It also removes some of my anxiety about repeating tracks – I can enjoy them without having to find yet another way to review them! I am going to make up the weeks I missed by the way, that doc continues to fill out as we speak.

    Last week, Thursday the first of May, we debuted a new format on Portland Radio Project. Instead of (must-listen) Thursday nights being three shows back to back, my co-presenters Jonny, Patric and I pooled our timeslots and our playlists to create one huge free-flowing four-hour party. I had a blast – we had a blast – riffing off of each other’s selections and branching out from our usual sound. I played Fievel is Glauque! And Squid! And Lucy Dacus! And the Minutemen! It was, to borrow the parlance of my usual genre lane, an excellent b2b2b.

    I showed up at 5:30 with a nearly three-hour “short”list of songs, but outside of my opening cut (Justice – Genesis, obviously) I didn’t plan for my sets at all. I played off the room, off of Jonny and Patrick’s cuts, off of themes and lyrics and artists from two sets before. It reminded me, in the best way, of sharing a Spotify session on a long road trip. A song reminds you of another song so you add it to the queue, but there are already five songs that will play before it – each of which reminds you and your friends of three other songs, which must then be queued, which extends the queue further, which dissolves the original seed into a spiraling periodic network of in-jokes and throughlines. I’m not much of an instrumentalist, but I think a good back-to-back is the DJ’s version of a good improvised jam session.

    So now, a week later, I sat down to playlist with the memory of improvisation still on my fingertips. I knew I had some new releases to play — that Wisdom Teeth comp really is as good as I was hoping — but beyond that, I had no plan. So I gritted my teeth, said yes and to myself, and improvised. The first three tracks of this playlist were planned in advance, the rest stitched together with enthusiasm and vibes from my library on the studio computer. I hope it was fun for the audience at home to listen to, because I know it was fun to make.

    The unfortunate side effect of this approach is that I played a lot of repeat tracks from earlier episodes this week, something I don’t love to do on my shows. I’m going to keep that in mind when I go to playlist next week’s show, but I want to retain the core of this week’s approach. Some of my best shows, both in the Warehouse Continuum and the previous incarnation Rants and Raves, have now been wholly improvised. I improvise when I mix, why shouldn’t I improvise for radio?

    Some notes on tracks for this week:

    FTP Doctor & Tenzia – Haus

    I don’t have much to say about the possibly legitimate minimal revival, partially because a lot of words have already been written but mostly because the more I read about it the more charged emotions I stumble into. Just look at the comments on the discogs page for Audion’s “Mouth to Mouth.” Regardless, there’s a lot to like about the new Pattern Gardening comp on Wisdom Teeth, a label I enjoy more and more every week.

    It’s a beautiful spring in Portland this year. I’m writing this from my backyard, surrounded by trees, watching lazy clouds drift across a warming sky. We’re too close to summer to listen to chilly, crystalline music. FTP Doctor and Tenzia allay my concerns by peppering their tracks with Metro Area or Patrick Holland-esque electric piano chops, an essentially spring sound in my mind, and let their percussion flit about rather than settle too close to perfect regularity.

    They also deploy what I’m fairly certain is crinkled cellophane in the background. Those samples, along with the mouth sounds that mix up the back end of the track, harken to things like the Matmos catalog or Iz & Diz’s “Mouth”: genuinely good songs based on borderline gimmicky sampling techniques. There’s echoes of that ethos in recent work from Polygonia and even Virtual Riot – something to keep an eye on.

    Villalobos – Easy Lee

    I recently went back and read Resident Advisor’s top 100 albums of the 2000s, a list topped by Ricardo Villalobos’ Alcachofa (and, confusingly to me at least, Metro Area’s self-titled at #2 ABOVE Discovery and Untrue – but getting annoyed and nitpicking rankings just lets the list win). This is where I decided I didn’t know enough to get opinionated about minimal yet because good god it is ALL over this list, to the point of receiving mentions in non-minimal blurbs as a point of comparison. My familiarity with minimal is entirely retrospective. I’ve listened to and enjoyed the stuff that gets held up as the tentpoles of the genre (particularly this and Luomo’s Vocalcity), but I didn’t realize the saturation that minimal seems to have had at its peak. I can have my song-by-song taste, but I’ll leave the grand historical context arguments to Ben Cardew or Shawn Reynaldo.

    Removed from context, I like “Easy Lee” quite a lot. The vocoder loop the track is built around is geologically dense with texture and variation and the spelunking percussion around it creates sparkling facets of distraction that pull you in every direction just long enough to receive the full wallop when the vocals return.

    A lot of the more recent music that I’ve credited for merging the organic and the electric mask their digital origin with woody sound design or field recorded atmospheres, but “Easy Lee” feels like it cuts to the core of the computer and lets the minerals inside sing, a silicon chorus with an orchestra of copper tracings.

    Fievel is Glauque – Days of Pleasure

    More great spring music! I played this one on the Thursday Night Mixmash, and I snuck it in again here even though it falls well outside the typical scope of the show. There’s something addictive about the outro on this song, but I cannot for the life of me find the origin of the sample. Let me know if you know it, I’d love to watch whatever old adventure movie I assume it’s clipped from.

    Cousin – ~O.V.O~

    There are, frankly, TOO MANY good shows in Portland this Saturday. Cousin is playing an all-nighter at Process, DJ Stingray 313 and Kode9 are playing at Spend The Night’s 10th anniversary party and Bristol weirdo Mun Sing is playing a free show at Barn Radio, all of which I’d likely attend were they on separate weekends. How could I possibly choose? Well, it seems like the universe may have chosen “none of the above” for me, since my knee is currently far too sprained to think about dancing for multiple hours on concrete floors. I might see if I can post up in a corner at Process and chair dance to Cousin’s ambient worlds, but that feels like a disappointing compromise. Alack.

    Full tracklist:

  • TWC 38

    Breaka – Dream Sequence 19

    “Dream Sequence 19” is the highlight of Breaka’s new album Aeoui for me (at least until I listen to “Yolo Bass Rewind” a few more times). I don’t love the record as a whole, excellent cover notwithstanding. It feels caught in the middle of Surgeon-y UK Techno, East Coast club, and something altogether spacier. “Dream Sequence 19” excepts itself by leaning further than any other track into the dreamy soundscape mode the name suggests, without losing sight of dancefloor ambitions. The synths sound like they were put through a thunder tube, the drums are well-mixed and well-programmed, and the whole track has just enough off-kilter echoing shuffle to put you off your balance. It’s not that it’s undanceable, but it’s just far off enough from the peak danceability of UKG or broken beat that I would have to take a second and recalibrate when the tune drops in all the way – and I love that. “Dream Sequence 19” wants you to dance, but you must first answer its questions three.

    Call Super – Naive Step One

    If Pioneer made DJ decks that needed to be cared for like Tamagotchi, this song would come pre-loaded. “Naive Step One” is a quirky little stepper that’s happy to meander. There is something anthropomorphic about the leads to this one, and combined with the ‘90s jungle-esque seascape chords the whole effect is something like an animalian slice of life. This is the cut that the bugs are getting down to at the watering hole, the soundtrack to a mystical woodland rave-up without a human in sight. I’m excited about the idea of creating small utopian spaces as artistic expression, and this song just about does that all on its own.

    Jorg Kuning – Skudde

    Jorg Kuning might be my new favorite producer. Skudde is the second single off his new EP Mercedes, coming soon on Wisdom Teeth, and it sounds like someone ran Royksopp’s “Eple” through a hair crimper. Kuning is apparently a modular synth wizard (the proper term for anyone who can wrangle a full song out of those beasts), which makes his music even more pleasing because this sounds like music that should come out of a mess of tangled patch cables placed by a cackling madman. Kuning also plays live sets, or at the very least hybrid dj sets. I hope one day to see him pop up from behind the decks a la the taken-down Gesaffelstein Boiler Room moment with a mad grin as a shower of cables announces his presence like pyrotechnics.

    Giorgio Maulini – Freeyeyo

    FM wobble might be the acid 303 bassline of the 21st century: addictively tweakable, extremely listenable, and starting to run out of new ideas. Still, the 303 is as immortal as it is because the thing is fun as hell for producers and for listeners, and “Freeyeyo” certainly taps into that joy. I stumbled into this one at the wonderful Passenger Seat Records a few weeks ago, and picked it up again when my open decks set was unexpectedly extended and I ran out of records to play. Turns out it’s also fun as hell to mix with, and at that point I just couldn’t say no. The wobble in “Freeyeyo” is actually nestled fairly low in the mix, which helps it avoid many of the cliches of tweak-synth music. Structurally, the whole thing is more like a deep house collage song than a pure one-liner tweak song, with good swingy drums and a nice funky bass to hold the track together while the tweaks skitter around on the top. There are 303-esque bloops in here too, which make the track more of a historical document than it was probably intended to be – past and present, coexisting.

    Björk and Rosalia – Oral (Olof Dreijer Remix)

    I am, unfortunately, a Björk neophyte. I’m working on it, taking my time, album by album. I don’t want to blow through her whole discography at top speed without giving myself time to sit with the music; I don’t want to miss the trees for the forest. A friend recently gave me a guided tour through some of her music videos and I was absolutely blown away, to the point where I may have to start from the beginning with a wider net to not miss a thing — some, like “Triumph of a Heart” are pure fun, others, like “All is Full of Love” and “Mutual Core” feel essential to the songs themselves. Björk has been ahead of her time for most of her career, and dance music might just now be catching up. She dominates the artificial-natural sound around which this whole episode is built.

    Going back to some of her earliest works she confidently embodies a strain of futurism that requires the natural world rather than rejecting it. Even in the “All is Full of Love” video, which depicts a purely machine scene, the core emotion is a physical, human love. The video for the original version of “Oral” stars deepfakes of Björk and Rosalia, who donated all of their income from the recording to environmentalist efforts in Iceland. You can find that interplay of humanism and environmentalism with wary futurism in the visual design of the Portland party Osmosis, in Montreal’s Naff Recordings, in the work of Davis Galvin and Doctor Jeep and Djrum and so many others at the forefront of dance music.

    That intersection is in the sound, too. Olof Dreijer flips the relatively slow original into a shuffling, danceable track that sounds like it was grown rather than made. The woody, clomping drums make a fertile soil for squiggly pea-shoot synth lines to explode from and swirl around Björk and Rosalia’s vocals, chopped from their balladic structure into hooky snippets that reverberate around the space and push the song forward. Björk’s music at its best feels like it taps into some primordial sonic ooze, long forgotten but remembered in our DNA. Like Björk herself says in “The Modern Things,” I think this remix has always existed, it’s just been waiting in a mountain for the right moment.

    Nicolas Vallée – New New York

    “New New York” is the A side to a legendary B side, to the point that I’m not sure I’d ever heard the track when I bought the record in 2017. I am of course referring to DJ Falcon and Thomas Bangalter’s edit of Valerie by Steve Winwood, the original in a cascade of versions eventually resulting in Eric Prydz’ chart-topper “Call On Me” – or at least it would be if that version had ever seen a release. As far as I can tell the version on my copy is a reconstruction of that original edit by a Swedish duo called (unfortunately) Retarded Funk, who are not credited on the release at all — and neither is Vallée. “Call On Me” is fun but “New New York” is just as good and frankly more interesting. It trades the bombastic arena chorus for a more understated sample loop cut from Rafael Cameron’s 1981 electro song “Funtown U.S.A.,” but the defining features are the micro-samples of funk keyboards that Vallée uses as punctuation between bars. I love a well-done pause, and the cheeky retro synth wiggle intensifies the impact. Imagine if Eric Prydz had lifted the A side rather than the B, and we had the “Pryda Wiggle” instead of the Pryda Snare

    Harry Romero – Nice to Meet You

    …ok, this one is just straight up goofy. Roman Flugel was kind enough to ID this for me after I haplessly described it to him as “built around saxophone one shots on the same note with different tonalities.” Well, that saxophone was actually a kazoo, which only raises the goof factor. Good song structure and a genuinely well-deployed bassline save this one from falling straight into the novelty pit, and it sounded legitimately good on the club speakers at Process. I can’t say this is one I’ll play frequently, but it did make me crack a huge grin on the dancefloor which is a success in its own way.

    Danny Daze & Jonny From Space – Sweet Spot Radio

    Sweet Spot Radio is a track with international bona fides: label Craigie Knows is from Scotland, Danny Daze is from Miami, and Jonny From Space is from space. The combination of UK dubstep and woody drums is potent and well executed here, though I can’t help but feel that the names involved with this release could have turned out something more interesting. As is, it’s a fun track that I’d be happy to play in a set but I’m not chomping at the bit to hear.

    Doctor Jeep – Pula Perereka

    This inclusion was a literal angle on my part. Artificial and organic? Why not a gleaming metallic Doctor Jeep track that samples a frog? As the synthesis in dance music gets more and more complex it almost horseshoes back around to sampling, so why not close that loop all the way and come back to nature? This is a hard hitting track with no nonsense drums and top shelf sound design, but it’s not afraid to dip a toe into a goofy sample and let it breathe without dominating.