teshno

i might have dissed on 90s house in my tongue-in-cheek new year resolutions feature, but more specifically it’s the hoards of imitators with whom i have grown tired.

for some they work; for others they never will, but for one month only it doesn’t matter as men all over the world stop shaving for movember. i have one all year round, my father had one, my grandfather has one… they’re in my blood. so is music. so of course i thought i best combine the two into a post of my top ten favourite mustaches in music.

my previous encounters with mikkel metal have been pleasant enough, but none have ever really stuck in my mind. to be fair, though, his dubbed out landscapes and ambient atmospheres for echochord and kompakt respectively probably weren’t designed to. this new ep on danish outlet tartelet, though, surely has been… it goes rougher and tougher than before, deep into darkened back-room spaces.

in 2008, idj mag visited dan ghenacia to find out about the plans he had for his exciting young label, freak n’ chic. two years later, and in the wake of worldwide and country-crippling recession, i was sent back to paris to find out how things had unfolded…

“it was the best of times, it was the worst of times” goes the opening of dickens’ 19th century oeuvre, great expectations, and you could say the same of the last two years in the music industry. whilst infinite labels and artists are releasing more music than ever (mainly, we posit, owing to the vastly reduced cost of getting a record to market courtesy of mp3s over vinyl as the sellable medium) the tracks that get released are being bought by less and less people; clubs are closing and labels continue to struggle. for a small independent imprint like flag bearing parisian house proponents freak n’ chic, then, times must be tough.

two years ago, dan ghenacia was trilling with excitement about the future for his auspicious label and had grand plans to match. with the world now rebuilding from the ruins of a financial crisis, though, how has his vision fared? what has had to change?
cut to the aged deck of an all red, ex-fishing boat (now permanently moored to the bank of the river seine in paris) and, beneath a still warm evening sun as another ‘freak n’ chic at batofar’ party begins to get going, we’re about to find out.

“have things turned out as i hoped?” dan ponders. “we’re still the same team, just re-organised. our family is still there and the recession hasn’t massively affected our plans. i have to say in the last two years i’ve been really happy with the musical evolution of freak n’ chic. we’ve managed to move further into deep house which has been my dream, like, forever! the time was right to do it and make that sort of music, plus i had the people to do it with.

especially with dyed soundorom – a rising star at the moment – maayan nidam who did her second ep for us, seuil and also shonky (who did the last freak n’ chic release which is really 90s influenced and which i really really like). so, i’m really happy with that but i have some private problems with my business partner. that doesn’t affect the music at all, though, so it’s not a big deal at the moment.”

as a steady trickle of catwalk boys and girls step aboard to the rich house sounds of terrace guest marco dosantos, dan continues. “it’s true that the sales are not as good as they used to be, but we concentrate on music not money. freak n’ chic never really survived on sales alone. when we were selling records pre-recession, all the money went back into promotion and things – we never really put a lot of money in our pockets.”

and that good business sense early on has ultimately paid off. the artists the label invested in and nurtured during the early days – shonky, dyed soundorom and co. – are now, thanks to the early exposure from releasing on freak n’ chic, respected enough to be regular features on the wisest underground line-ups all over the world.

“we are lucky” recognises dan as he sips from a cup of planteur – a delightfully devilish punch made aboard ship. “lucky because the money we spent on our artists before the recession means they are big enough to tour on their own: the money now is on the road so comes through our booking agency, lola, which has all our artists on the roster. it’s worked out well for us.”

it’s time for dan to go below deck and into the small but sonically well-equipped gut of the boat; time for him to begin his set, the second of seven here this summer season. perfectly embodying the freak n ‘chic sound, he plays a memorable selection of choppy, trippy and groovy house cuts to a writhing dance floor before first nina kraviz, then chris carrier, take the torch with sexy, sultry, emotive house and deep, dance-y 4/4 respectively.

now in a bar beneath the very front of the boat, dan reflects. “the batofar parties last season were a bit strange. we had some surprises because the biggest nights were no busier than the smallest nights. i think this is one of the consequences of the recession. from this year, though, i really wanted to concentrate on making the parties intimate like they were originally. we want to push some new artists like we are tonight with nina, and we also have kubicle coming over from london – small things like that, you know? people really love it, the vibe is really good this year and we’re busy enough so i’m happy. it’s working!” it most certainly is – the proof is in the lurching of the boat as it sways in time with the people who continue to shape shift on the dancefloor behind us.

“at this moment of the recession i think the people need to feel loved, need to feel comfortable with freak n’ chic, the music and what we do” says dan, surreptitiously revealing the secret of his label’s success in the process: having kept the clubber in mind – whilst at the same time pouring money back into the artists in which he most believes – the diminutive frenchman has managed not only to remain solvent, but has built a lasting legacy in the process. as such, he’s now been freed up and is in a position to take stock of his own situation…

“this year i want to concentrate on my own career. my artists are all buzzing; doing cool things and they really know the freak n’ chic sound – i’ve been taking care of them and building freak n’ chic for years. i need to take a bit less care of them now. that means maybe less things will be released on freak n’ chic; maybe i’ll start a new label, but i don’t know yet.”

as our eyelids begin to feel heavy, and as light begins to shine through batofar’s port holes, dan reports of a successful music making session he’s just had in a san fran studio with lance desardy. now bubbling with the same enthusiasm that we saw in him two years ago, the palpable excitement in the air suggests solo production and the us scene are next on his to-do list. this might just be a never-ending story…

[since i spoke to dan, it's been confirmed fnc has indeed finished, but that he, along with shonky, has started a new label...]

dan’s top 5 moments…

october 2009
“we did freak n’ chic vs highgrade at panoramabar in berlin. everyone was there, all our artists played and it was the longest party we have done together – 27 hours! it was amazing having everyone together in one place.

may 2010
“i played back to back with dyed soundorom at dc10 in ibiza – it’s always a pleasure playing with him and it was his first gig as resident there. it was a very special moment”

june 2010
“i did a small tour of mexico, san francisco and new york. there was amazing music everywhere – back to a deep house sound so i really enjoyed that.”

july 2010
“my final one is last night, the kubicle 3rd birthday in london with jamie jones, lee foss and others. it was really really cool around london. i’m so glad they are coming to batofar next week!”

summer 2010
“i’m really pleased to be back at batofar doing our intimate parties. people really seem to enjoy them and the vibe is always cool every thursday.”

jay was piping off on the ra forum; i tweeted he was a div – maybe i shouldn’t have, but – and then he unleashed himself on me (which means he’s still searching for himself on twitter). funny and ironic in equal measure. these are the youtube links if you’re interested 1, 2.

another interview-cum-profile for i-dj mag from earlier this year. this man’s recession mix on his own label ‘caravan,’ really made me take note with it’s tough techno and dark dupstep cuts. stoner techno he called it. and i’m happy with that.

review for resident advisor

here’s something i did in december 2008 for mixmag. fly lo is still relevant so check him out if you haven’t already…

‘I was ditching history of film classes to make beats. It was kinda then I really started believing in the possibility of this shit.’ Given his success this year, it seems strange that Flying Lotus, aka Steven Ellison, wasn’t always certain this would be his calling. That is, until he moved home to LA.

Following a hot EP in 2007 tuning us into Fly Lo’, and pricking up the ears of the underground hip-hop world, he dropped his second long player, an ode to his hometown of Los Angeles, right at the top of 2008′s ‘Best of’ pile.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever feel like I’ve made it’. So much more to be done,’ says Stephen Ellison of his ascension, despite having also put on one of London’s coolest events this year with his record label, Brainfeeder, in one of the capital’s car parks. He also rocked the Sonar festival, and should have wooed Manchester’s Warehouse Project, but for the recent passing of his mother.

Los Angeles is a filmic, narrative affair which winds through the streets of LA (and is quite different to the songettes he made for grown-up animation, Adult Swim, during a sojourn as segue musician for the Cartoon Network): The analogue crackles and crunchy breaks submerse listeners amongst the almost palpable humidity of a day in Ellison’s hood. His off-time percussion adds intensity and bustle; peppering the organic soundscapes, and twitching the synapses. ‘In these times in particular, I find music to be a very powerful healer for me. That and a bag of weed.’ If this is the cure, we’re after the cause.

A disregard for lyrics and puerile MCs is testament to Fly Lo’s confidence and selective ignorance of what has gone before, and is why he redefines hip-hop. ‘I just want the tunes to mean something. It’s not always for the club; it’s not always gonna be some party shit. I really want this shit to touch people.’

Introducing the uninitiated to this new school laptop technician as ‘a hip-hop Burial’ would be just, owing to their similarly textured, hazy output. And to catch the Lotus live is to be drowned in sounds from each nook of electronica, by a music nerd in his element: he’ll slap the drum machine and tickle his mixers, whilst cutting up the likes of Aphex Twin, Squarepusher or the Wu Tang Clan.

2008 sticks in Ellison’s mind ‘for one of the last things my mother said to me: ‘party like there’s no tomorrow.’’ For us, it was the discovery of someone who is genuinely original, and who is refreshing hip-hop as a result. It was the year of the Lotus.

mixmag lp review which didn’t make it as I missed the deadline.

this effort from silicone soul comes a decade after their rookie production on soma. rather than building on their house heritage, though, the band draws from it too much.

‘silicone soul’ is a collection of sedate tracks – and it is a collection of tracks rather than a crafted experience from beginning to end – which are recognisably silicone soul, but which suffer from a lack of innovation and evolution, and drift by unremarkably.

no one track is bad, but similarly no one track stands out: the 10 productions visit summer ambience, driving tech-house and guitar licked 4/4, all without fuss. Taught strings add drama, undulating synths and well placed keys give texture, but overall, ‘silicone soul’ sadly lacks the edge all great albums need, and remains all too subtle and instantly forgettable.

here is 70% of an unedited interview transcript with king roc, aka martin dawson , aka one half of two armadillos with secret sundaze’s giles smith which i did for i-dj magazine. his chapters album is – note ‘is’ not ‘was’ – very enjoyable.

this is something which as good as never got out. it did make it into djmag but was edited heavily, for – now – understandable reasons…

Come on then Richie Hawtin – if that is your real name – what the fuck are you all about? You polarise opinion amongst dance heads more than any other: jumped up and conceited little tart to some, a more real messiah than Jebus Himself to others. The unanswerable paradox of invention vs. pretension that is your cube idea has no relevance here, for you bring with you only your merry band of M_nus minimalists (Barem, Gaiser and Troy ‘Bitches’ Pierce) and so you’re reduced to the common ground of all others: you’re a dude who plays tunes.

But he isn’t. He just isn’t. Let us take stock…

Encased in thick concrete on all sides, but for the thick black curtain that separates out here from in there, the Warehouse Project’s disused car park spills only the lowest frequencies onto the street outside as I make a reverse exit. Thick, textured, bass-rumbles coast from the front to the back of the main tunnel, washing over an already near capacity crowd. Gaiser’s black funk oozes cool and osmoses into the brain cells without you knowing; it slowly drips its way down your legs until your feet skit from dusty patch, to dampened pool.

This is it; we’re in the thick of what has taken two long years to set up. Of all the acts in the world, the WHP have coveted Hawtin and associates the most, making phone calls every day for nigh on 24 months to M_nus HQ in pursuit of ‘the one’. Why? We’re getting there, but there’s another formality before penises become stiff and the two long years of wait are but shelved memories: Troy Pierce.

Not as accessible as what’s gone before, Pierce serves up slabs of chilly tech and is sadly, and undeservedly, a stop-gap, as the M_nus logo casually drifts around the 25 foot square LED screen in which he appears to reside.

Then the clock strikes three, the Macs begin to glow and the LEDS are precisely ignited by Hawtin’s wingman, Ali Demirel, and boy can he control a fucking light. In the following three hours, understated swirls, helixes, and webs are spun on the screen round Hawtin by phosphorescent white pin pricks. The techno is more ‘Closer to the edit’ than ‘Transitions’ in style; not letting up and with a stern heart.

The injections of percussion and melody that betray said sound are of an ilk that bring smiles and comradeship to the floor, acutely timed as they are. When colour is first injected into the screens with an hour to go, a red sun rises on the left, engulfs Hawtin, and washes off the right hand edge. With such heart, soul and thought, this is our culture at its absolute best.

They say that imitation is the highest form of compliment and, aside from that being the reason I dress like my mother, it more than explains the proliferation of foppish hair cuts, plain t-shirts and understated denim that pepper the crowd: the camp style of Mr M_nus is everywhere.

Interestingly, the man himself is rooted in a pair of fairly butch, Doc Martin-type boots beneath the black t-shirt and jeans of his trunk. Consciously or not, the music mirrors the man: dark glitches and minimal sonic splinters up top, all underpinned by a tough, drum-lead techno root.

A moment for the WHP crew now, because if an event sells out in hours, there’s a lot of pressure to deliver. But all was well: no queue to get in, yards of bars (boo: still no cider) and lashings of unbeatable sonics, as well as some boss new additions…

Like a scene from a 30s British seaside holiday (albeit in a concrete den) is the sloped chill out room with extra wide Bud’-branded deck chairs, cinema screen on one wall and beer garden table/bench combos. And a second room, (you’ll forgive me for not visiting it given the headliners, right?) which, I am sure, is lovely.

There’s no greater compliment than message boards buzzing with praise for this event (quite unlike reports from the Contakt event the night after) than the DJ Mag seal of approval, which is hereby awarded with compliments to M_nus, WHP and you: let’s keep techno shit, hey?