teshno

in amongst all the d-town names with which you are most familiar lurks rick ‘the godson’ wilhite. a lesser spotted talent than the likes of cohorts moodymann and theo parrish, it’s hard to work out why. one thing is for certain, the music he does release always sparks reams of forum debate given its unashamed devotion to analogue. though i’m inclined to say analogue stuff does sound better, truth is, i don’t really give a shit. so long as what comes out of the speakers sounds good, i really can’t see that it matters.

incredibly, given the fact he’s been doing this since the 90s (whilst also running the vibes new & rare music record store) analogue aquarium is the godson’s debut album. actually, it’s more a collection of singles, so don’t go expecting a load of unifying concessions to the full length – little segues, intros, downtempo numbers, whatever. that’s not to say these are homogenised ‘tracks’, no, instead the ten thick offerings busy themselves with exploring different pockets of warm, fuzzy house music: the sort of house music that (without reeking of nostalgia) reminds you of a time back in the day that you didn’t really live.

sometimes it has one foot in motown; sometimes it marches in an oppressively humid basement club; sometimes it’s isolated and lonely and, occasionally, it’s alive with the buzz of a busy room. there are raw, clunking machine sounds; stuttering, imperfect beats and apparently alive percussive hits that strike when you don’t expect them and miss when you do. component parts of tracks suddenly collapse, stumble or stutter before regaining themselves once again. that satisfying roughness speaks of human animation – rather than digital sequencing – and surely betrays a spontaneous, unhindered creative flow that breathes delightful life into the sounds you hear.

‘deep horizons’ references the sort of jazzy drums that made carl craig’s (as innerzone orchestra) ‘bugs in the bass bin’ such a great record; ‘in the rain‘ bumps along like an omar s offering; ‘sunshine pt 2’ dips its toe into toned-down rob hood minimalism and ‘muzic gonna save the world pt. 1’ brings to mind the dusty and lo-fi aesthetic of kassem mosse. as you should now be inferring, this is serious house music served up with spoons of us soul that you simply don’t get from a lot of cluttered, modern stuff. like i said, the analogue thing is of no real importance, but it would certainly take a lot of effort to make ones and noughts sound this… authentic.