In a macro sense, the news this time around—to me, and definitely late—is that beyond-dubstep is really circling all the way back to drum-and-bass. Many of the artists are young and grasp their place on the timeline that Simon Reynolds coined “the hardcore continuum” (of London-centric bass-oriented dance music.) It leads to a dual effect: the freshness of kids having their first real go at making music and willing to try anything, and a historical awareness that’s putty in their hands rather than a stone tablet. No wonder old guys like me love it.
PARED DOWN. Just for making an argument for the continuing vitality of minimal techno (sometimes known as “mnml”), Marcel Dettmann’s Dettmann (Ostgut Ton) performs a valuable service. Dettmann is someone who understands the whys and wherefores of making grids and patterns compelling, and his full debut finds a kind of menace in restraint: the water-drop sounds of “Screen” help allay the creepiness of the same track’s buzzing-bees sounds, while “Drawing” throbs as prettily as Pantha Du Prince minus the twinkle. It’s not a casual kind of listen, but moves like one thing, and sums up its field so neatly he could’ve called it Dttmnn.
GOIN’ SOUTH. For a few years around the late ’90s and early ’00s, kwaito, a homegrown hip-house hybrid, held sway on South African dance floors, though it connected to American fans of global pop more than with U.S. dancers. But while the loping rhythmic backbone common to South African pop since township jive is in full effect on Ayobaness! The Sound Of South African House (Out Here), the music itself has moved closer to American and European house. In fact, DJ Mujava (who is featured here) had a significant worldwide hit two years ago with “Township Funk” (which isn’t). Another burgeoning crossover S.A. star, Culoe De Song, is also aboard. But the album’s attraction isn’t any one person so much as that adaptable, forward-stepping groove, which I’ve long enjoyed and am rooting for to gain further traction.
CITY TO CITY. Good news: Matthew Herbert is beginning to thaw. He used to follow a manifesto and would only sample everyday objects to manipulate into tracks. Now he’s made a straight-up singer-songwriter album with lots of electronic touches and a halting style reminiscent of the quieter work of Robert Wyatt, but more plainspoken. One One (Accidental) is as purely lovely as anything Herbert has made, though it’s also a very slow burner that requires some alone time. “Manchester,” the lead track, comes in with a whisper and only gradually builds its body. But the introspective mood is surprisingly upbeat: “It’s a love that is needed,” goes the hook of “Milan.” “Hot like a house on fire,” a careworn group of Herberts harmonize on “Leipzig.” “Share a little pill with me tonight / We’re gonna be, we’re gonna be just fine.”
ON TO THE NEXT ONE. From the wobbly sub-diva coo of opener “I’m Comin’” to the electro-shakers and mechanical hi-hat that power “Marco’s Love” to the bare, propulsive drum machine that concludes “Dub Project 3,” New York producer Jus-Ed hasn’t got a single new idea in his head—and that’s a compliment. In a time when melting-pot music is running things, his bracing Chicago-house purism acts as a clean-lined yang to its yin. Jus-Ed’s Next Level (Underground Quality) is full of charmingly pitch-challenged vocals, thunking keyboard bass lines, bluntly mechanical four-four kick drum, and cheap synths in place of organs. It’s cheap, desolate, and soothing.
TRANSIT AUTHORITY. Efdemin’s Chicago (Dial) takes a number of detours, which is surprising coming from the head of Dial Records, a label that’s made its name by building and sustaining elusive moods for entire albums. (See Pantha Du Prince’s This Bliss and the first, self-titled Lawrence album.) Efdemin juices his tracks with quirky touches such as the squinching snare-substitute and oddly dissonant acoustic guitar dabs of “Angels Round Here Don’t Sing,” but his grooves tend to take their sweet time getting to the next phase—in the end, a little too long unless you’re listening on headphones, where all kinds of embedded detail seeps into the wide-open spaces.
REISSUE OF THE MONTH. I was seriously tempted to give it this month to Google’s “reissue” of Pac-Man on its front page to commemorate the game’s 30th anniversary. But I’m cheating anyway by handing it to Once Again, Again: A Classic Ambient Mix By Matthew Hawtin (Plus 8), a new mix of old material. These 29 tracks were chosen by minimal king Richie’s younger brother, a veteran ambient DJ himself, to reflect his 1993-98 sets, so I’m fudging. I’ll be honest: I avoided most ambient at the time because I thought the likes of the Irresistible Force, Sun Electric, and MLO were mostly dry cheese. But set and setting is all, and Hawtin’s mix puts you right in its eye: wide-open languor, melodies that equally evoke pretty twinkling lights and stoned foghorn drift, and a promise that nothing will stay put for too long except your body.
ON THE WEB. More podcasts are popping up than anybody at all can manage. That’s not counting freestanding DJ sets. Is this impulse toward too much, you know, too much? Yes, but for now it’s very pleasurable, if exhausting. For example, three of the selections below had competition from the same DJs. If I hadn’t decided to play nice it’s entirely possible that there’d only be seven DJs below. It’s a reminder how much of a crapshoot these things can be. But it’s a crapshoot that, for now, keeps paying serious dividends. I hate to be the boy who cried wolf in reverse, but the bar just seems to keep on going up.
So allow me to explain my methods. I arrange my downloads in folders by date. When I want to hear new music, I add both the most recent and the oldest folder into an iTunes “Unheard” playlist and proceed. This helps me catch up and keep up more or less simultaneously, but it also creates gaps; thus the time spread of those listed below. The podcasts I subscribe to are added to “Unheard” upon arrival, but it can take six weeks or more to get to other likelies, depending on my assignment load. My rule is that if I choose to acquire something (as opposed to it being sent by a publicist), I should hear it once, even if I don’t finish listening (which happens about a third of the time). Podcasts and mixes have come to make up about two-thirds of what I play.