Yep, the horrors of the world have gotten to me, and so have a lot of other assignments, I’m sorry. So, it’s hard to focus on the joy I get from my selections here. But joy they provide, in abundance, usually with a sharp edge—though my favorite scores equally hard with fizzier edges.
You can hear the five sets below at this SoundCloud playlist.
Darwin, PURE Guest.083 (June 9)
The Canadian-born Londoner Darwin, we learn from the mix bio, is equally “comfortable playing back-to-back with DJ Storm, Mala or Lena Willikens,” as it notes/boasts. Daunting—and based on this mix alone, easy to hear. But that’s not even what I heard when I played it the first few times—prompted, I’ll note, by our old confrere Chanel. I’ve been talking recently about the latent psytrance element going on throughout the mixscape, at least as I hear it (cf. BC126), and this is another keen example. At a mere thirty-six minutes and change, it’s the shortest and therefore most easily accessible of these sets; though it doesn’t peak like LOIF, linked above, it ingratiates itself instantly—start here.
Laurel Halo, RA.992 (Resident Advisor, June 9)
A feast—a big bowl of popcorn in every flavor you can think of (shout out to Candyland, in the downtowns of Minneapolis and St. Paul alike). Some of it is icy, some of it is set-piece moody, much of it is odd, none of it is distant, because all of it is imbued with delight. I’m going to quote the last graf of the accompanying interview, linked above, because I’ve been trying to come up with something else and just end up defaulting to it—let Halo describe it:
Right now I'm obsessed with empty, psychedelic, percussive tools, anything with a polyrhythmic or groovy pulse. They can be so useful for switching genres, moods or eras, and also simply fun to dance to. I also love the sound of real drum samples or unquantized rhythms blended with synthetic sounds or hard-clocked rhythms. I guess I just like a lot of strains of acid too, it can tap into all my favourite affects, whether serious or punishing, euphoric or joyful, wormhole or dissociative, or just simply goofy.
Earful of Wax, 2019-2020 2-Step Special (Rinse FM, June 11)
You want a fine-tuned concept? Try this one here: “Stuff I didn't really get to play in clubs ’cause of lockdown,” the DJ explains around minute two, adding: “Lots of 001s of brand-new labels from back then.” Happenstance could have dictated that this would result in a smorgasbord, but this sleek hour is nothing of that like. It’s focused, dialed in, classic groove-wise for 2-step fans—but it’s also a little automatic, the bass slinky like liquid D&B, lots of flown-in details all over the margins, alluring, small-room, late-night. It’s cult music. And knowing its provenance, you can hear a stylish dead end that doesn’t quite know its name, looking around at the party and noticing it’s empty.
Speaking as a 2-step fan myself, I have put together a SoundCloud playlist that gathers the available sets consisting of UK garage (cf. BC027, BC076, BC093, BC109) and/or featuring it (cf. BC050, BC054, BC081, BC116) from the last three years’ worth of Beat Connection posts, including this one. The sets are in chronological order. You can listen to it here.
Richie Hawtin, Boiler Room—Paris (May 3; uploaded June 11)
Remember this guy? Dark, low-down, glint-eyed, menacing techno—not adjectives I’d been associating with Hawtin much of late, I admit. How nice to hear him take us down this path—it’s almost like he’s playing records again: his timing never falters, he can’t wait to show us the next selection, and the tension between the two gives everything a charge. The selections have plenty of thrust unto themselves. Of course, it isn’t records; it’s a piece of new gear, the MODEL 1, which Hawtin co-designed and which highlights its “beautifully warm analog circuitry” among its selling points. That a mixer two years in the making brings us back to a warehouse-vinyl feel says plenty by itself, but the proof is in the pudding. Remember this guy? I’d nearly forgotten. His best since DE9.
LNS & DJ Sotofett, Groove Resident Podcast 64 (June 11)
At some point, I want to write a survey of Motown covers in techno, a rather (and not terribly surprisingly) robust category. (The proximate model would be the survey I wrote of Prince’s impact on dance music for RBMA.) This set opens up by blending “Sandstorm” with an a cappella of “Reach Out” credited to the DJs themselves. The impassioned “I’ll be there” of Levi Stubbs (cf. Chris O’Leary’s historic three-part dig though the Four Tops’ history) here becomes a different kind of flashback—to the high-pitched, blasé-unto-hypnotized vocals of “The Age of Love (Watch Out for Stella Club Mix),” a kind of sun-blinded quality that’s both empty and palpitating. The vocal has a neon imbuement that matches most of the synthesizers on the rest of the set; it’s heady without feeling excessive, psychedelic not “psy.”