Various - Fabric 50: Martyn

Fabric: 2010

Come to think of it, Fabric was being a bit ballsy in handing their half-centennial volumes of both Fabic and Fabriclive to upstart genre heroes like Martyn and D:Bridge. Sure, it'd be safe enough dropping another round of Fabric friendly tech-house or jungle, but no, there's plenty of new sounds making waves in the underground and abroad, and we're gonna' make sure folks know about them in our fiftieth editions.

Why do we place so much prestige on '50', anyway? '10', '100', and '1000', sure - adding another zero demarcating a whole new series of numbers is a pretty big deal. '50' though, is just half way to one-hundred. Is it because many fiat currencies rely on certain amounts for easy distribution, '50' being one of them? Honestly, in my neck of the world, '50' spots aren't terribly common, seemingly rarer than '100' bills. Is it an age thing? Maybe, but still only regarded important in relation to the century mark. Okay, that's enough rambling to confuse the Hell out of whatever A.I. bot is scarping this review.

Choosing Martyn for Fabric 50 isn't that far out of leftfield as it may have seen at first glance. Yeah, he was something of a post-dubstep hero in ye' olde year of 2010, one among a clutch of producers taking it down more interesting roads than whatever the North American bros were vomiting out. Mr. Deijkers was never strictly a dubstep guy though, having come up through the D'n'B scene on Marcus Intalex' Revolve:r print. He just kinda' jumped on a bit of a bandwagon when the UK bass scene was blowing up, had his fill of doing his own thing with it, and was just as quick to move onto other things, mostly house and techno (as many early dubstep heroes did).

While the full transition was still a couple years off from Fabric 50's vantage point, even here you can hear him testing the waters outside the familiar confines of future garage sub-genres. There's a couple Ben Klock remixes, a Redshape remix, and a Levon Vincent acid track (Air Raid). Heck, even his own Vancouver owes more to dub techno than whatever London broken-beat genre he's forcing it into. Small surprise it mixes in from 2562's Flashback, a chap who was already paving the way into such post-dubstep genre fusions that sadly didn't last much into the following decade.

It's this little tug-n-pull of what I'm sure folks expected of Martyn and what he actually wants to do that creates something of a disjointed set. It's good overall, don't get me wrong, just seems a little muddled in where its destination is. Does it want to showcase all the various facets of UK bass music as it existed in 2010 (the Afro-beat stuff, the bleepy stuff, the funky stuff, the soulful stuff, the dubby stuff), or does it want to steer us away from all that (the techno stuff)? For sure its eclectic, but feels rather rambly in the process.

Fabric 55: Shackleton

Fabric: 2010

Another year, another mini-splurge on Fabric CDs on the cheap. While it's doubtful I'll ever get them all, even the thirty-plus currently sitting on my shelves seems like a paltry amount compared to what's out there. Heck, I could expand that by ten more CDs, if I wanted to buy another bundle of ones available for under ten bones. Despite the series having ended, there's two-hundred releases under its banner, many of which are far from ever reaching the pricey collector's market

I bring this up because I find it rather bizarre that despite my generally restrictive rules in getting a Fabric CD (must be dirt cheap on Amazon), I've landed upon yet another 'artist' album in the series. Just how many of these are there? Ricardo Villalobos' entry was the most infamous, in that it was the one that broke that barrier in the first place. I remember there being a bit of a stir when Omar S did the same. I didn't even know Daphni (aka: Caribou; aka: Manitoba; aka: Mister Snaith; aka: Dan) had one until I got it. No doubt it takes a bit of gumption to even do such a thing when followers of Fabric expect DJ mixes featuring multiple artists on a single disc, not an excuse to hawk your own productions.

Of course, the argument can be made that some producers and DJs have a style that's so uniquely their own that doing an 'artist' album is about the only way they could do a Fabric set justice. It's certainly a worthy point when it comes to Shackleton. When he was still technically part of the dubstep lexicon, his style was far more tribal and primal compared to his contemporaries, quickly establishing himself as among the freshest sounding artists of the '00s UK bass scene.

Even after proper demarcations formed following those Wild West years, Shackleton still didn't fit tidily into any specific sub-genre. How, then, could he be expected to do a traditional DJ mix for Fabric if there were so few other cats making similar music he could rinse out? Still, the series wanted prominent names, so let him do it his way, even if the results are basically another artist album from the man. It's not like he had many under his belt by 2010 anyway.

And yep, fabric 55 is definitely a Shackleton set. Lots of afro rhythms, lots of tribal drumming, lots of minimalist dub, almost all fresh material (older joints like Hypno Angel and Massacre crop up), and in no hurry to get the party moving. I know my go-to comparisons for this sort of sound is Sandoz or Rapoon, but for some reason Muslimgauze at his more entrancing is the name that keeps cropping up in my mind in this outing. If Bryn Jones had been inspired by northern Africa rather than Arabia that is. And less about the industrial noise. Okay, it's not a perfect comparison, but I didn't want to again namedrop my old standbys.

Barker & Baumecker - Transsektoral

Ostgut Ton: 2012

I think I've become a low-key admirer of Ostgut Ton. I never intended as such, always turned-off by the massive amounts of hype for Ben Klock, Len Faki, Shed, Steffi, and Dettmann. I didn't dislike them, but y'all needn't be so insistent on saying I must love them. Let me explore this label on my own terms, discovering acts that catch my eyes and ears. Your Nick Höppners, your L.B. Dub Corps, and your Tobias.es. Okay, maybe not so much that last one at the time, but he seems a bit forgotten now.

Anyhow, my continued sleuthing for the 'unheralded Ostgut acts' has led me to Barker & Baumecker. Are they a duo that somehow slipped by the radar, a partnership that never got its just due? The sort of techno only real heads are aware of, or something? Look, I won't front, I only stumbled upon Transsektoral because of the nifty cover-art, and 'trans' being in the title. Gosh, maybe some trance-leaning techno, then? I've heard a few flirtations with the genre out of Ostgut Ton, even as early as 2012, and with having heard so little from Misters Barker and Baumecker abroad, this could end up one of those undiscovered gems in need of a resuscitation nearly a decade on (holy cow!).

After a tidy intro of dub techno ambience, Trafo gives us the sort of vibes we're in for on this record. That vintage Ostgut Ton warehouse thump, moody backing melodies, and odd-ball experimental sounds spicing the percussion up. It can get a bit distracting from the solid techno shuffle going on, but eh, gotta' do something to stand out from the pack. Schlang Bang strips things down to a bare-bones tech-house outing with a woozy-wobbly bassline that I'm sure is perfect for your ketamine daze, but is just bemusing here.

Then, Crows. Ugh. I get what B&B are doing with that obnoxious noise, gradually morphing it into a rather lovely bit of dubbed-out orchestral pads, and the cavernous beats would make it for a fun stomping anthem. Just... gads, that noise is the absolute worst, insisting upon its 'cleverness' for far too long. Thank God the rest of Transsektoral isn't like this. In fact, the album's quite good for the duration!

No Body gets in on some of that post-dubstep action Ostgut Ton liked to dabble in, while Buttcracker and Silo go straight for the hard-ass Detroit minimal stomp. And wouldn't you know it, we even get a little trance in Trans-It, what with subtle floating arps and escalating pad work. Yeah, it's riding along your standard techno rhythm, including some real low-end thumps along the way, but d'ats classic trance, man! Or neo-trance, if you must (I've seen Lord Discogs has caught on). Closer Spur goes trancey too, but more in that morning-after, dawn's light in the eyes after being inside a grimey dancehall all night, chill-out kind of way. About as Orbital as any Ostgut Ton act can get, I guess.

Pinch & Shackleton - Pinch & Shackleton

Honest Jon's Records: 2011

(a Patreon Request)

It wouldn't surprise me if this collaboration between Pinch and Shackleton had been counted upon to rescue dubstep from the clutches of bro-dom when it first came out (yes, another 'great hope' – there were a few of those). Here were two of the genre's founding fathers, a pair of producers who took the early concepts of dubby, minimalist bass music into mutant strains few knew what to make of at the time. It had those half-step rhythms and powerful low frequencies though, plus was getting rinsed out in haunts throughout the London underground, so it must be dubstep. Until it wasn't anymore, because dubstep officially became something almost diametrically opposite to this, save some scene lineage. Ah, reminds me of the good ol' trance-eurotrance wars, it does.

In any event, despite coming up through the dubstep ranks along similar paths, these 'future garage' guys never really crossed paths – probably didn't help that Shackleton had shacked up in Berlin while Pinch had pitched his tent in Bristol. Also, Shackleton had his own label to essentially self-release material with Appleblim (Skull Disco), while providing the odd tune for tech-house prints like Crosstown Rebels and Perlon. Meanwhile, Pinch was releasing stuff on his own Tectonic, with additional contributions to leftfield rhythms label Planet Mu. They had to cross roads eventually though (releasing fabric mixes about a year apart maybe helped), and thus the deed was done with this self-titled album, surprisingly both their official sophomore efforts in the long-player format (so sayeth Lord Discogs).

Even with but a skimming of each producer's output to this point, Pinch & Shackleton delivered mostly what I expected out of such a pairing. Surprisingly though, it offered something more, or rather something familiar that may have been incidentally arrived by both players. Or perhaps not, the roots of such dub production a genetic through-line since UK ravers were first transposing the sounds of Jamaican transplants into all manner of house, techno, downtempo, and 'ardcore. Still, I couldn't deny, hearing those tribal rhythms and samples, the stripped back songcraft, and the desire to explore between the sonic spaces, that I was getting some serious Sandoz and Bandulu flashbacks on this album (because it always comes back to them for my dubby tribal techno influences; PWoG, too).

I'm hesitant to say it's a one-for-one comparison though, as many tracks here could only have been made in a post-dubstep climate. The urgent opening build of Torn & Submerged, for instance, or the gnarly bass growl of Burning Blood, are the sorts of sonic markers that have been UK bass staples for over a decade now. Tracks that edge closer to tribal-techno's realm though (Jellybones, Levitation, Rooms Within A Room) could have been obscure '90s cuts, though definitely with finer production on hand. Yes, no matter how 'gritty and stripped' Pinch and Shackleton's aesthetic is to the modern ear, those overwhelming bass frequencies remain quite contemporary. Ain't nothing from 'back when' sounding this vast in my headphone space, nosiree.

Zomby - Where Were U In '92 (Original TC Review)

Werk Discs: 2008

(2017 Update:
Screw '92. Where were you in 2008, when this came out, eh? Or maybe 2001, the same sixteen year gap as Zomby had between album and era-homage. Yeah, there's a sobering thought, I reckon. Does that mean we're due for some nostalgic throwbacks to vintage electroclash? Like, I can't think of much else from that year you could claim as 'cutting edge' and distinctly of that time, but with almost no follow-up in its wake as it splintered into competing scenes. Genres generally get comfortable and cozy these days, laying fat as time wears on. Or completely fizzling out as trend-jumping 'flash-in-pans'. I'm looking at you, whatever that 'minimal-prog' thing Border Community did.

Zomby's maintained a decent career for himself nearly a decade on, still releasing the occasional album that's just as intriguing as it is frustrating to play as this one. Seriously, does this guy have major ADHD, what with all the short snippets of tracks his LPs are littered with? Crazy that he ended up on 4AD for a time, though recently found his way back to his more natural setting of Hyperdub. Oh, and I think he's somehow remained incognito. Lord Discogs doesn't even list a proper name, much less any photos without some cover. That's serious dedication to the act, but hey, if the mighty UR could do it, so can Zomby.)


IN BRIEF: Too much old, not enough school.

We’ve certainly never hid our fondness for classic rave sounds of the early 90s here at TranceCritic. I’m sure it’s gotten to the point where readers figure we’ll give anything a glowing remark so long as it has a rolling piano, wailing diva sample, giddy breakbeat, or big-synth riff. Let’s be honest though (as if we ever aren’t): it isn’t enough to just make use of these bits and pieces – there needs to be a degree of intuitive musicianship involved too. It might have been a unique twist on the style, or a perfectly executed production, or perhaps a ‘special-something’ that captured the free-wheeling spirit of that time; whatever it was, the old-school classics have endured for these reasons, leaving plenty of forgettable tunes to the dustbin of history. And truth be told, there was quite a bit deservedly left behind.

While singles were awesome, many of the albums from that era were forgettable. Seriously, beyond the big ones, can you remember many old school albums? And even then, can you remember how every track went? The trouble was not many producers seemed capable of making full-lengths; for every Experience, you’d get about ten Movements. Albums generally consisted of an intro track, your big singles, a couple variations on that single, the ‘leftfield’ contribution, an ‘other-genre’ filler track or two, and remixes of the big singles – in that order. There was a lot of repetitiveness in old school albums, and in making a deliberate throw-back to the year 1992, Zomby has either accidentally or intentionally fallen into this trap.

First, of course, is who even this Zomby guy is. Well, good luck finding that one out. He remains anonymous, a characteristic worth its weight in gold where London’s dubstep scene is concerned. Still, some have him pegged as the next Burial, a dubious distinction I’m sure he’d prefer not to have given his utter disregard for following convention. This here debut album is a prime example: instead of building upon his promising early dubsteb and chip-tune singles, as many were expecting, he goes and makes a rave album.

Fair enough, plenty of producers are doing this lately, sometimes with brilliant results. If you’re going this route, though, there needs to be a good spin on the formula, otherwise we may as well just replay the classics.

It starts promisingly enough (oh, but how often albums “starts promisingly,” eh?), with Fuck Mixing, Let’s Dance hitting all the right nostalgia nerves, including sped-up vocals, quick punchy riffs, and bouncy beats. It’s an intro track though, setting the tone of the album before we’re lead into what would be the ‘big single’, Euphoria. Sounding like some long lost proto-jungle track even Grooverider inexplicably missed, it’s got a great shuffling breakbeat, many little tidbits culled from hardcore of yore (klaxon wails, vocal samples, catchy riffs), and a dubstep wobble bassline bringing it in the here-and-now. If none of this sounds appealing to you, however, then you’d better forget this album, as Zomby basically uses the elements from Euphoria and continuously recycles them throughout. And this is where the problems start.

For instance, do you love klaxon wails? I mean, really love ‘em? No, I mean really fucking love ‘em? Because you’re gonna hear ‘em… a lot. Also, did you love that shuffling breakbeat in Euphoria? No, I mean really… you get the point. Nearly every track on Where Were U sounds like a remix of Euphoria, just with a different ‘old school’ idea thrown on top of it. Tears In The Rain sludges things up with a wobble bass that drones more than wobbles, and makes use of the ‘rip speech from sci-fi movie’ cliché (the title alone should tell you which speech it is). Get Sorted through Float is pretty much one idea spread out, taking the klaxons and shuffle beats and mixing it up with Bizarre Inc.’s classic Playing With Knives. And the titular track is basically a megamix of all the album’s bits and pieces, flowing into a kind of mish-mash of it all with Baby D’s Let Me Be Your Fantasy and Street Fighter II samples (“Sonic boom!”). That’s a fair amount of Where Were U’s playing time taken up by rehashing a couple ideas and spreading it out, which, as mentioned, is par for the course where many old school albums were concerned.

Since Zomby doesn’t stray from the formula much, it’s always a welcome relief when he actually does, even if the results aren’t always memorable. Daft Punk Rave is little more than an interlude making use of the French duo’s Technologic dialogue over a beat; Need Ur Lovin’, Hench, and B With Me are the kind of ‘other-genre’ filler tracks you might find mired in a ‘92 compilation dedicated to those sounds (deep house, hardcore, and breakbeat, respectively) – I have to mention, however, that the klaxons sound pretty good in Need Ur Lovin’, as Zomby decides to funk them up a little.

As for the ‘leftfield’ track, Zomby has taken modern-day crunk man Gucci Mane’s Pillz, thrown in a bunch of chip-tune bleeps, and sped the pace up to proper amphetamine levels. It’s quite nutty, but in being so radically different from everything else on Where Were U, the track definitely leaps out. All the while, though, it sounds like something that could have been produced back in ’92, probably during one of Richard D. James’ ‘inspired’ moments.

Ultimately, Zomby’s debut comes off like a good ’92 pirate radio session someone recorded to tape - even the general sound quality has a kind of ‘aged’ feeling to it. This would have made for a nifty release then, had it been heard back in ’92. At this point, however, Where Were U is more like a quirky artifact that you may throw on occasionally, but has little that differentiates itself from the source material it draws influence from. His unfortunate insistence on recycling so many of the same sounds, riffs, and drum patterns throughout (old and new) severely dulls the listening experience. Of course, the counter here is that a throwback such as this isn’t meant to be critiqued by modern standards, that it’s a celebration of the good ol’ days if raving. Fine and dandy, but if that means hearing a bunch of sounds that can be found on any old school compilation, we may as well stick with the classics. In pilfering so much from the past, it certainly seems Zomby has.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

2562 - Unbalance (2017 Update)

Tectonic: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

That old review opens with an attempt by yours truly at cataloging dubstep’s myriad permutations into neat, tidy sub-genres, and for the year 2009, it made some sense. ‘Wobble’ had yet to morph into the now-commonly accepted nomenclature of brostep, mainly because it had yet to go full-bro on all our asses (but oh was it ever just over the horizon!). There definitely was an ‘atmospheric’ side to the scene, though most now refer to it as post-dubstep, or future garage if they don’t want their sound associated with the ham-fisted bro anthems dubstep at large ultimately catered towards. And finally I brought up ‘funky’ as a refuge for UK garage fans missing the glory days of Artful Dodger, or some-such. Yeah, I had no idea what the 2-step I was talking about there – UK funky is more an Afro-house thing, and I’d have known that too if I’d ever listened to the stuff back then. Dammit though, the UK bass ‘n’ urban scene was splintering into so many dozen-and-done micro-genres at the turn of the decade. Like I had much time, interest or care to sample all of it, no matter how much Pitchfork or Guardian were telling these were Very Important developments in music culture.

Still, the techno-infusion dubstep was seeing towards the end of the ‘00s intrigued me a little. Between Scuba, Sigha, Shackleton, and 2562, it seemed the genre was leaping out from the urban alleyways into bold, brittle dystopian cityscapes, all the hot journals just as quick at hyping this new development as any other. Alas, t’was as short lived as most hype goes, hotter hotness replacing their names, all the while dubstep soon regarded old, stale, passé, and poo after the bros invaded everything. Some went onto other genres, while others carried on despite the turning tides of fortune, retaining loyal fanbases within dedicated scenes, rather glad the spotlight no longer shone so bright upon their careers. Can’t say 2562 is one of the latter, however.

In the years since I originally wrote that TranceCritic review, Dave Huismans kept himself busy, but as with many of his ‘post-dubstep’ brethren, slowly moved on from the broken beatcraft of his early works. Shortly after releasing Unbalance, he took his 2562 alias out from his Tectonic deal, and started self-releasing material on his own When In Doubt print. Lord Discogs lists his last release as 2562 being The New Day back in 2014, a record with as much techno going for it as anything dubstep. Given how techno-leaning his music was already, it’s hardly surprising he’d go all the way with it eventually. His other alias, A Made Up Sound, has kept him more active in the singles market to this date, with a double-LP retrospective coming out just last year. That one’s gone as techno as anything coming out of Berlin now, so it must be serving Mr. Huismans’ career well enough. After relistening to Unbalance though, it does leave the current creative possibilities a little wanting.

Scuba - Sub:Stance

Ostgut Ton: 2010

Sub:Stance may as well be the turning point of Scuba's career, going from dubstep darling to tech-house tease. True, the hints didn't come to fruition for another couple years after this CD, but the very fact he's palling around with Ostgut Ton, they of Serious Technos Only acts like Surgeon, Shed, Klock, and Dettmann, had to give some signs of his future developments. Okay, there’s also the nugget of Mr. Rose hailing from Berlin, thus likely having ties with the Berghain posse regardless. It’s a pairing that was all but inevitable, what with Scuba's early techno dystopian approach to UK bass music.

What I find most interesting is that it was with Ostgut Ton that he made his commercial DJ mix CD debut in the first place. Why not do it on his own Hotflush print? Too many licensing issues? A friendly favour? Come to think of it, most of his mixes have been online efforts (podcasts, streamers, Boiler Room rinse-outs), this and DJ-Kicks about all he has for hard copy options (and a Mixmag offering, but who cares about those). Maybe he’ll do a Balance or fabric one soon, since he’s all about that house now.

In 2010 though, Mr. Rose was still mixing in the heady post-dubstep tuneage, with many of the trendy names of the time getting a look in. There’s Sigha, Pangaea, Shackleton, Mount Kimbie, James Blake, and Joy Orbison, including his one big track everyone wouldn’t stop playing back then, Hyph Mngo. Man, looking at that list, it’s like reading a super-hip indie write-up from back then, dropping names and proclaiming this is the future of music, forward-thinking while honouring the past’s influences. Dubstep was moving on from its inner-London roots, ready to take on all urban locales with techno hand-in-hand, Scuba seemingly ready to play the part of lead and general. Then a Skrillex happened overnight and changed everything. Oh well.

Meanwhile, Sub:Stance does a good job of providing various rugged rhythms and deep basslines. Scuba runs the gamut from minimalist dub (Sigha’s Early Morning Lights, Badawi’s Anlan 7) to UK garage nods (Joy Orbison’s two cuts, George Fitzgerald’s Don’t You), and technobass beasts (Surgeon’s Klonk Pt. 4, Untold’s No-One Likes A Smart Arse, Intra:Mental’s Voyeur), with plenty of abstract broken-beats spread throughout (James Blake’s rub of Mount Kimbie’s Maybes, Ramadanman’s Tempest). As with his DJ-Kicks set, the mixes are quick and surgical, tracks seldom lasting longer than three minutes with only their key features utilized. No sense dawdling on repetitive loops and pointless drum programming, right?

Another similarity to that future mix is ending with an unabashed, hands in the air anthem, in this case Joker’s Psychedelic Runway. Given how heads-down and dark Sub:Stance generally is, it’s shocking hearing such garrish synths and cock-rockin’ rave riffs set to a standard dubstep break. Though considering Scuba ended his Boiler Room set with Madonna’s Vogue, I suspect he can’t help but go for the cheeky climax every time. I will always approve of such shenanigans.

Instra:mental - Resolution 653

Nonplus Records: 2011

As the '00s drew to a close, duo Alex Green and Damon Kirkham were gaining themselves a solid rep in the drum 'n' bass scene as Instra:mental. It certainly didn't hurt they found collaborative work with tech-step veterans like Jonny L and Source Direct, nor finding a home with trendy upstart labels like Nonplus Records. Then they found another future-looking kindred spirit in D-Bridge, set up their own Autonomic label, and pretty much created a whole new sub-genre within 'deebee's already convoluted mess of micro-genres. Despite being short lived cul-de-sac of a style, that's still a mighty impressive accomplishment in a scene filled with many one-off dead end attempts at new directions. Has there ever been an official name for the Autonomic sound? Eh, whatever, I'm still calling it microfunk because... reasons (hint: look in one of those Twitter links to the right).

With all that musical momentum behind them, a proper full-length album was inevitable from Instra:mental. What sort of music would they venture into? More of that tasty microfunk business as heard on their FabricLive 50 mix? A return to the jungle they built their early career on? Maybe some further venturing into post-dubstep’s experimental realm? Nah, none of that, guy. For their debut LP, Instra:mental set out to do nothing less than a pure Detroit techno homage, d’n’b fanbase be damned.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, as their Nonplus singles skewed that way as it was (heck, the whole label does). Still, they kept one foot in the UK’s bass scene, familiar ground for those who’d wandered in from jungle’s realm. Resolution 653 has almost none of that, dragging the listener into 313’s domain of electro, techno, and its various permutations. That includes a little of that post-dubstep sound (Thomp, Rift Zone), which often took audio cues from Detroit’s lineage. Mostly though, we’re dealing with broken-beat futurism (Sun Rec, Arc, Love Arp), Hawtin-plonk minimalism (8, Talkin’ Mono), renegade warehouse techno (Aggro Acid, Delta Zone (Advance), Memory Implant), neo-Tokyo ambience (Waterfalls, Plok), and technobass (User). Holy shit, there’s actual old-school technobass on this album! Haha, Dynamix II represent! Yeah yeah, that genre was technically a Miami thing, but whatever – t’was southern bass heads doing Detroit, is all. And now London chaps too.

However, there’s a problem with Resolution 653. Well, two if you were expecting proper jungle t’ings from Instra:mental, but I sure didn’t. Hell, I wasn’t even aware of them when I first checked this out, only that they had this really neat looking cover art, and it was being billed as a collection of throwback electro. That said, folks well-versed in electro’s history likely won’t find much that’d have them abandoning their Anthony Rother records anytime soon. Instra:mental do the genre justice, and bring a couple tricks from their d’n’b pedigree, but for the most part they remain so fixated on Detroit’s heritage, it’s blinkered them from exploring any new avenues. And that’s disappointing for a duo that blazed their own paths leading up to Resolution 653.

ASC - Nothing Is Certain

Nonplus Records: 2010

ASC’s been around a while, but in the wide world of drum–n-bass, he came across as just another guy in a sea of highly competent producers stuck following tried-and-tested formulae and genre tropes. Ain't a thing wrong with that, but somewhere along the way, James Clements got it inside his head that 'deebee' could be more than what was out there, that there were still musical roads yet explored. Fortunately, he found a pair of producers at a similar crossroad, Alex Green and Damon Kirkham of Instra:mental, and while those two were key in establishing labels that would promote their ideas, ASC turned into one of their most dependable contributors.

Their ‘microfunk’ work on Autonomic with dBridge earned them plenty of critical praise, but that was a short lived phase, more of a cul-de-sac if anything. About the same time, however, Alex Green set up Nonplus Records, and proposed a stunning question for the drum-n-bass scene: must we be held down by genre conventions? In short time, Nonplus offered an outlet for bass music producers to free themselves of their old shackles, purist fanbases be damned.

When ASC dropped Nothing Is Certain for Nonplus, it was as much a statement of the label's manifesto as it was a game-changer within Mr. Clements' discography. Here was a d'n'b guy, releasing an album on a label fronted by d'n'b guys, with barely a hint of d'n'b presented. For sure, the urban vibe of London bass music is still felt throughout the LP, but instead of reflecting on the clime's contemporary scenery, Nothing Is Certain looks to a possible future for the city. It's Detroit techno futurism for England, one of the few times this concept ever manifested itself within the d'n'b scene.

Yeah, future dystopia’s been a common theme in plenty of jungle, not to mention sci-fi inspired music too – heck, ASC alone released several mini-EPs titled Sci-Files before this one. The music here, however, keeps things grounded in metropolis landscapes, with little sinister about the environment as we casually cruise through neo-London streets late at night, sprawling skyscrapers towering over scattered novelty chip fryers. Classic electro is definitely a major competent here, tracks like Losing You, The Ubiquity Incident, and Matter Of Time begging for an icy-cool anime as visual accompaniment.

Of course, this isn’t the first time the UK’s dabbled down these sonic avenues, the early days of ambient techno, dub and IDM cropping up in ASC’s work here - Absent Mind has the bleepy hallmarks of Higher Intelligence Agency, while Yatta indulges in Autechre glitch-melancholy. For the most part though, such musical lineage is but a backbone, tracks like Lost For Words, The Depths, and Opus working within the world of post-dubstep and atmospheric jungle. In the process, Nothing Is Certain sounds remarkably unique, stylistic music that Clements has made his own. If you’ve resisted the hype behind ASC’s last half-decade of material, this album will convince you its deserved full stop.

Beto Narme - Multiple Choice

Sublime Porte Netlabel: 2010

I have no recollection of how a digi-EP from an Istanbul net label found its way into my possession. As it's a 2010 release, I suspect it was part of some MP3 promo-pool I briefly subscribed to, but I've nothing else from Sublime Porte, which makes having this stranger still. If an MP3 promo was good enough for me to keep that year, I usually kept an eye on the label too, hoping another EP might get released that could knock me out of my then writing stupor. Maybe Sublime Porte simply lost its promotional power, unable to penetrate an overcrowded digital market. After all, who'd ever be interested in dubstep from Turkey?

If Multiple Choice is anything to go by, they should be. Right, it's impossible gauging a whole scene of an entire country based on four tracks from one label, but we gotta start somewhere. Plus, Sublime Porte’s still in operation, even recently taken a tentative step into the realm of limited-run CDr. They must be doing something right with their dub ambient techno dronestep if they’re still around, even though Lord Discogs tells me they don’t have a consistent roster. Even this Beto Narme, or Tufan Demir to the Istanbul legislate, has but this one four-year old EP to his name, though a smattering of remixes too. His Discogian bio is almost certainly out-of-date then, suggesting this was an “ever-growing dubstep project”. Maybe he got a high-paying job as that sound engineer he was striving for.

What held my interest with Multiple Choice was how, for an EP promoted as dubstep, it sounded very little like dubstep. Rather, Mr. Demir shows he’s definitely a student of Detroit and dub techno’s never-ending influence. Aside from occasional drags of the low end, Cellophane Dub is straight-up funky dub techno, including a breakbeat that’d have Carl Craig nodding approvingly. Elsewhere, Outranked Spectacles and Figment Dots gets closer to the half-step beat we’re all familiar with, but we’re still firmly floating in dub techno’s spacious waters. And warm waters they be, not those frigid, sterile bays other Detroit-inspired dubsteppers so loved to frequent. Beto Narme can’t help himself though, getting sucked into the lands of ‘wub’ on last cut Simmer Down. It’s a fine tune when you hear the vintage reggae vibes, I could just do without the requisite Rusko modulations every dubstep producer threw in during those days.

I have an almost inescapable bias against most forms of dubstep, subconsciously preparing myself for a given track letting me down by indulging in nonsensical, erratic drops. Aside from the aforementioned brief bit in Simmer Down, that moment never came on Multiple Choice, and I could enjoy all the polyrhythms without worry (dear God, I know different forms of dubstep). Yeah yeah, I know there’s tons of dubstep – sorry, post-dubstep (future garage?) like that out there. With so many netlabels pushing the stuff though, how does one even begin to filter it all out? Maybe start with this Turkish label?

Various - DJ-Kicks: Scuba

Studio !K7: 2011

Okay, I'll admit it: I barely paid attention to current electronic artists throughout 2011. Sure, I kept an eye on musical trends and the like, but as for following recommendation lists of what I “should” be listening to, I couldn't be bothered. Having been burned once too often by another minimal-wank/k-hole-house/wayward-dubstep production on such lists, you can forgive me for being wary. This Scuba fella' though, there's been some uproar recently over his latest offerings, as they've started skewing towards the party vibes that made turn-of-the-century dance music so much fun. It's also delightfully pissed off his entire original “post-dubstep are serious musics” followers. On that basis, I think Mr. Rose deserves a look-see, starting with his DJ-Kicks offering.

Credit to Studio !K7 for their ability of hopping on bandwagons with class. The fusion of techno and dubstep gained quite a bit of traction after acts like 2472 opened the gate to that road (I called it 'atmospheric dubstep' at the time), and bringing in names like Kode9, Scuba, and Photek definitely helped give the sub-genre more exposure. Whether it'll be just another flirtation before going back to proper broken-beats again, I don't know, but we may as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Taking a look at the tracklist, we have... thirty-two!? Oh, it's one of those mixes, isn't it, with quick mixes, layering, edits, loops... *sigh*. It's fun when mash-up jocks like 2 Many DJs pull it off, but can get tediously dry and technical when techno chaps do this. What about the dubstep dorks, then?

Scoobs's gained prominence within dubstep's borders, but there's a decided lack of it on this mix. Plenty of broken beats, sure, but nothing that makes me think of UK urban music. I'm not talking about the Americanization of the genre either, unless you count the Detroit influences. This is techno, through-and-through, with skillful hops between steady fours and stuttered rhythms. You'd hear the likes of Carl Craig or Laurent Garnier dabbling in such beats, almost a jazz fusion approach, but without the wanky side of it.

Or maybe some of these tracks do, but we don't get to dwell on them long enough to find out. Since I never kept up with this style of music, I’m unfamiliar with most of these cuts, and am not sure how skillfully Scuba manipulates them to serve the mix. What I can tell you is it never falters, fresh sonic twists and rhythmic turns throughout making this an engaging listen, though one that doesn’t seem to have dancefloors in mind (yo, where the bass be at, mang?).

Scratch that, there was a “th’fuk?” moment, with Ludovic Vendi’s Mental Bright, one of those annoying effects-drenched techno cuts that, yeah, sounds cool but are total momentum killers every time. As a perfect counter-point, Scuba follows that up with his own Adrenaline, a glorious, unashamed anthem. Haha, flee, melody haters, flee! Thumbs up for that, Scuba, and the rest of this mix ain’t half-bad either.