FABRIC 44
(FABRIC)
Tejada’s Fabric mix heaps twisting turncoat techno textures, mostly from the prolific Californian’s own Palette imprint. It may be a session of chugging, face-the-floor automation, but Tejada toying with room temperature leaves as many big-booted imprints across the dancefloor as it does silhouettes. Never restricted to a concerted build-up into one big explosion, there are no definite zig-zags here, but significant shifting between body heat and frostbite.
With Dave Hughes’ ‘Let’s Do It’ providing an early thaw, Pigon pulls back with early (nay, premature) calm. After five minutes, any sweat you’ve thought about working up has been wiped away, before the mix quickly clicks back into action with buoyantly fractal tech-electro. WAX’s ‘WAX10001′ gets involved with a German march, and gets the mix to bitch by sinking its hi-hatted claws into the minimal left-right-left.
Tejada bluffing against the starter’s gun is a good indicator of proceedings for the next 70-plus minutes; the mix ploughing devious jacking and dirty depths, then resurfacing into clean and clear sounds. M-Core’s ‘Be Gene’ is a funky bubbler with Wall-E as a backing dancer, and the half-way dropping of Orbital’s ‘Farenheit 303′, plink-plonking just lovely at the most opportune moment, is a euphoric flush-out that shows no signs of the near 20 year headstart it has on most of what’s alongside it.
Playing on punters’ thermostats right ’til the end, Tejada’s ‘Forbidden Planet’ alongside Adrian Leviste runs cold as the mix weasels away. There’s something reassuring about the chord surges of Spooky’s ‘Candy’, and then typically, the Plaid mix of LJ Kruzer’s ‘Huba’ leaves Fabric 44 on a cliff-hanger. Just when the album’s scores appear to have been settled, Tejada’s silent gear shifts remain that extra step ahead.
Rating: 7.5 / Matt Oliver