Reviews: Dj/Rupture, Drop The Lime, Sightings

July 20, 2005 at 11:40 pm Leave a comment

finally a few more reviews

Special Gunpowder

Drop The Lime
This Means Forever

If DJ’n was this good all the time, we wouldn’t need instruments. Robots would be hired to play tunes or more likely Chinese workers would be hired to provide new hooks and their Western counterparts would simply be content with remixing. But few artists can make mixing this engaging. Rupture is one smart cat and all the logic jump cuts and intuitive pulls of the cloak and dagger can apparently be expressed by good tune selection, mixing and matching, and a little post-production on the laptop. Flop we Featuring Junior Cat takes brit-electro-bass and Jamaican accapellos shit’s chill with out becoming backpacker like Common or Quest. Musquito chops afro-pop (I think it’s a Mapfumo track) with salsa vocals. I hate to comment on race, but Rupture does seem to be internationally black, mixing Africa and the Caribbean well outside the norms of DJ culture. The mix is better than the origins. Score one for design. While Rupture’s Special Gunpowder can’t quite be summed up in a single word former New York based gabba-freak Drop The Lime’s long-awaited debut can be summarized simply by saying punk. Part of the breakcore group, a genre more well known for stagnate break-athons, Drop’s cuts and drops combined with a vocal sense that reminds of !!! makes music that doesn’t seem as much idm as liquid funk similar to DFA shit. I’m rushing with these last reviews so forgive me for skimping over two deep releases with clichés, but Drop ain’t quite making drum and bass, something in the cut-up reminds of indie projects and deep-house. The laptop is really becoming a back-up resort here for a frayed and splintered world where dime store electronics, A Certain Ratio, and dos based sequencers all converge as equal instruments. Drum and bass has needed a serious refreshment and Drop puts the axe in song writing building up floor space with vocals and actual anticipation instead of speeding up the bpm dial. Tigerbeat picked a couple winners here. If it seemed like anything outside of Berlin experimental-4/4s was dead before, well New York has produced two good things for your bin.
– Andrew Jones
Buy Drop The Lime

Buy DJ/Rupture

Arrived in Gold

The Sightings swiftly fall out of emotion’s radar on Arrived in Gold. Vocal’s are submerged the noise isn’t terribly loud. The disco influenced internal compass uses an eighties drum break similar to !!!’s work, but fucks it so hard the things comes up rock hard and thumping around while static licks build in clicks of a minimal groove, one of ten festers piano outbreaks around a caravan of stuff, sugar sediment slacks a jazz piano refrain in front of a noisy assemblage that’s traces of musicality only draw this project into relief. Annihilation is noise’s manifesto, anyone can grab a box or a guitar and make noise, but to annihilate noise is to eat one-self and in this case the feedback of The Sighting’s ideas churn and turn never ending. Arrived in Gold is anti-music reformulating that old bash, smash, & rage with a prozac induced calm that eerily recalls the compassionate indifference of the Bush administration. The standish off I don’t care image has always been an intrinsic part of the “punk? stereotype, but The Sightings’ exploration of it seems wholly one-side and almost tyrannical after all our mythic punks are supposed to obey some form of honor. Granted these guys are still making noise, but it’s not building into To Live and Shave like power electronics metal blow-outs, instead it’s like a stealthy ethanol drenched glove over melody’s refined nostrils. Funk, jazz, rock, metal are all silently assassinated by detachment. Arrived In Gold’s frankly laid out corpses are far from mutilated, they simply just exist as dead forms. They only pick up emotional speed in reflection when you begin to notice what they aren’t or what they were, i.e. it’s up to the listener to autopsy these songs and discover their lives. Such restraint is rare, and to turn industrial ambience into a philosophy of notes that steadfastly refuse to lick your emotions isn’t just clever it’s down right un-American.
– Andrew Jones

Buy Arrived in Gold

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