Theo Parrish – ‘Be In Yo Self’

Angus Finlayson: Um, how can I say this without outing myself as a philistine? Theo’s round-and-round-with-noodly-bits-slowly-added-on tracks have always bored the shit out of me. About 10 of these 13 minutes feel completely pointless. (4)

Alex Macpherson: Not a second of this 13-minute quintessentially Theo epic is wasted. Starts loose-limbed and welcoming, quickly gets messy, ends up mechanising you, as though the music is a suit and you have to dance to put it on. (8)

Brad Stabler: Parrish is a don, and I was ready to sit back and call this one flawless before I hit play. It’s not. At 13 minutes, this soul stomper is cluttered and way too damn long. Surprisingly, this thing kicks more in its back half when the verses and the choruses stop and Parrish simply lets everything fly at you. Ambitious failures can still knock. (6)

Tayyab Amin: Cool. Cool in the way that other people’s you-had-to-be-there moments sound cool. It leaves my mind wandering, imagining instead of listening. Can someone send Parrish to Black Constellation boot camp? (6)

Scott Wilson: The vinyl version of American Intelligence costs £37.99 and features nine tracks, of which this is one. Divide the cost of the vinyl by the number of tracks, and each track costs roughly £4.22 each. At 13 minutes long there’s no doubting you get your money’s worth out of this track, but the last third of it just plateaus out into a lethargic chug. The point of this extended maths lesson? If you buy the album, make sure you buy the 15-track CD version – there are much more concise, much more interesting tracks than this on it. (5)

Son Raw: Someone needs to introduce Theo Parrish to Erykah Badu – there’s no reason for this music to be confined to the underground when it could reach the world. (8)

6.2

Nathan Fake – ‘Nuuk’

Son Raw: I’m writing while at a standing desk and this made me dance, so in accordance with the ancient bylaws of music criticism, paragraph 372 point B, I’m pretty much obligated to praise it. I’d hardly notice it go by in a set, but that’s the point with this stuff, right? Bonus point for an exceptionally booming kick drum: that’s what I mean by bite. (7)

Scott Wilson: This is one of Nathan Fake’s better moments of recent years, but it definitely goes on for a good three minutes too long. The line between evoking wide-eyed euphoria with this kind of analog techno and drifting off into self-introspective noodling is a fine one, and unfortunately this track just crosses it. (6)

Brad Stabler: I was afraid I was going to run out of superlatives. For the beginning, anyway. This has been a pretty killer week for techno and house, and Fake’s done topped himself with this one. Abandoning that four-to-the-groove in the middle was especially smart, since it gives ‘Nuuk’ time to actually breathe before it properly explodes. But it doesn’t quite do that, which leaves me in kind of a funk. Still, worth it for those first five minutes. (7)

Alex Macpherson: Mid-’00s soft sad techno that reminds me of halcyon Border Community/Kompakt days will never be unwelcome, exactly, but while there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this, it doesn’t exactly push the form along in any way. (7)

Tayyab Amin: There are times when descriptions such as ‘dream-like techno’ are euphemisms for uninteresting music – and this is one such time. It doesn’t do much wrong, but then it doesn’t do much at all really. Could make for a good example on Wikipedia’s techno page, though. (5)

6.4

James Blake – ‘200 Press’

Angus Finlayson: The fact that this is basically just a bunch of samples loosely corralled into a house tune reminds me of Moodymann somehow. But whereas Moodymann’s idiosyncrasies always feel like an essential part of the package, here, as in other parts of Blake’s more leftfield ouevre, bits of the weirdness just feel gratuitous. Where are you going with this, James? Do you even know? (5)

Scott Wilson: All the elements are in place for this being pretty good – the rhythm is satisfyingly wrong-footed and the whole thing sounds like a chopped and screwed take on house music. Whenever James Blake makes club tracks like this, however, I’m always forced to confront my own prejudices against his music, and come out thinking the same thing – I like his production, but I just can’t stand his voice, no matter how sparingly he uses it. Sorry James. (5)

Tayyab Amin: James Blake trying to overhaul the late nite techno jam, and I’ve got time for that. His ideas can be more enthralling than his execution, but both hit a decent innings here. (7)

Brad Stabler: I got a lot of awful shit to say about Blake’s Overgrown, and the man was one more Joni Mitchell cover away from me walking away from him for good. Then I remembered he still makes bass tunes. Yeah, I’m one of those people. I’m a sucker for when Blake takes scissors to a vocal sample (his or otherwise) and brings those sharp synths and unwieldy chords back into the forefront. That swell in the middle doesn’t quite work, but the beginning and the end of ‘Press’ get by just on how much I liked how Blake did this to begin with. More of this, please. (8)

Son Raw: I can’t listen to this without remembering how rhythmically daring James Blake’s early use of silence and empty space was. This plods along like an obligation, a forced concession to a scene he’s lumped in by default, but it picks up drastically after a minute and a half when that vocal really kicks in. Blake’s always been particularly adept at twisting voices – particularly black ones – into new shapes, and, thankfully, a stilted beat doesn’t change that. (5)

Alex Macpherson: On the plus side, this sounds nothing like Blake’s usual repellent blubstep: the music doesn’t sound like an unfinished demo, and any sampled vocal is an improvement on Blake’s milquetoast mewling. On the other, he still finds a way to make a straight-up dance track sound hand-wringing with that plinky-plonk melody, and the rest of it is pretty anonymous. (4)

5.7

Floating Points – ‘Nuits Sonores’

Scott Wilson: This track is nearly 12 minutes in length, and contains two absolutely massive breakdowns – one of which is the length of most contemporary club tracks. ‘Arp 3’ hinted at it, but I’m fairly sure Floating Points is now just making progressive house. I can’t deny it’s great though. (9)

Angus Finlayson: Like a fair bit of recent Floating Points, this toes the line between exquisite and exquisitely dull. I really can’t work out which it is yet, so I’m hedging my bets. (6)

Brad Stabler: Gotta give to a man like Floating Points – the Eglo mainstay never seems to pick a sound (other than the serene breakdown) and stick with it, but every production he manages to squeeze out sounds like he’s been a student of whatever sound du jour he’s gunning after for ages. This time he’s gone house. ‘Nuits Sorones’ is really addictive, juggling a bonkers amount of switch-ups and left turns while not getting too scattered. There’s about three different tunes in here, and dude manages to circle back to every one. Can’t wait to scope the B-side. (9)

Tayyab Amin: As Floating Points as Floating Points gets. A refinement of his own methods rather than anything new, but a wonderful journey nonetheless. House for the fireside, just in time for the holidays. (8)

Son Raw: All the musical chops and in the world can’t save this one from a total lack of bite, down to the pastel artwork. The drums say shots on the beach, but muted chords say cup of chamomile and a Kindle. (4)

Alex Macpherson: It’s a good week for epics; in contrast to the way Theo builds his track up around you, the beauty of ‘Nuits Sonores’ is the sheer amount of shape-shifting Floating Points crams into it, and the instinctive timing of each tempo change and acid riff dropping in and out. (8)

7.3

A$AP Ferg / Clams Casino – ‘Talk It’

Alex Macpherson: Rap’s responses to Ferguson have ranged from the bombastic, putatively anthemic (T.I.’s ‘New National Anthem’) to the quietly, creepily lullabic (Lauryn Hill’s incredible ‘Black Rage (Sketch)’). This falls somewhere in between: it’s pure, emotional reaction (as opposed to Hill and T.I.’s repurposing of existing material) and as such its gutpunch is undeniable – and this from a man I never knew I’d want to go to for emotional rawness. It’s not the most fleshed-out bit of songcraft, nor is it the kind of political statement that will strike a wider chord, but it’s a reminder of the importance of popular music as a vehicle for personal and social catharsis that goes beyond marks out of 10 (No Rating)

Tayyab Amin: It’s hard to think of many rappers who’ve been as thematically and tonally versatile as Ferg in recent years, and he’s really come into his own since Trap Lord dropped. He works with Clams Casino’s beat well here, and those rolling hand drums are delightful. (8)

Brad Stabler: “All I ever wanted was a Clams beat.” So does the rest of SoundCloud, apparently. Ferg’s so deflated here that all the comments as you follow along read like 2011 – “CLAMS” in all caps. Y’all know there’s a rapper on this, right? Ferg’s lyrics are actually on topic and far away from the shit he normally does, and that’s admirable. The problem is that Ferg can’t strike a tone between defeat, defiance, and sounding like he’s waking up for a glass of milk. Sure, Clams is here, but the beat is the weakest thing he’s put out. (4)

Angus Finlayson: “All I ever wanted was a Clams Casino beat…” Sometimes, Ferg, it’s better when people don’t get what they want. (4)

Son Raw: Really Ferg? All you ever wanted was a Clams Casino beat to talk about oppression? Based on the platitudes you mustered for this snoozer, and the fact that you’re speaking on haters by verse two, I highly doubt that. Cultural critics have been clamouring for more rappers to speak on serious issues, but if this is what it’s going to sound like, I say leave it to Run the Jewels. (2)

Scott Wilson: I love Clams Casino and don’t really have much time for A$AP Ferg, yet it’s Ferg’s lyrics I’m mesmerised by on this – not the other way round. Definitely a high point of the Ferg Forever mixtape. (8)

5.2

Hodge & Facta – ‘Spheres of Costa Rica’

Alex Macpherson: I feel like I’ve heard this clanky, intricately percussive single a thousand times before, but there’s a hypnotic quality to this that elevates it above most moodily unfun dubstep warehouse vibes, at least. (6)

Brad Stabler: This rules. The drums and assorted percussion that circle around that organ are top notch, the bass is a nasty little bastard, and the siren that keeps trying to make it out of the fog sounds like she’s being sampled against her will. This whole affair kills it. (8)

Son Raw: Tempa has been testing the waters all year when it comes to slower tempos and broken house grooves, but this is when the label takes a running leap and swan dives into the pool while yelling “COWABUNGA” at the top of its lungs. This dark Bristol house works best when it makes a concerted effort to distance itself from any mainstream approach, and Facta and Hodge nail the execution – tribal vocals, junglist accents and enough low-end to make the label’s fanbase forget about ‘Dungeon’. It’s so easy for this kind of scene to start off strong before spiralling into orthodoxy but for now, this is dark, chaotic and chest-rattling – just the way we like it. (8)

Angus Finlayson: Given the abundance of young producers still tipping their hats to classic dubstep, it’s about time Tempa got in on the action. As with much of the recent Tempa Allstars Vol. 7, barring tempo and kickdrum pattern ‘Spheres Of Costa Rica’ would’ve fitted right in during the label’s heyday. I guess this is praise and criticism in equal measure. (6)

Scott Wilson: More so than most other stuff to come from this hybrid genre, this track really has no idea if it wants to be dubstep or techno – it feels like the pair wanted to put a ridiculous drop halfway through, but when it came down to it, got cold feet. There’s no denying the drums are great though – Hodge’s percussion hasn’t disappointed me once this year and he doesn’t let me down here. (7)

Tayyab Amin: The token Exotic Sample of Non-English Kids sounds like an attempt to colour some character into a track where there is none. Then there’s the percussion drop, which feels way too watered down, drowned for the sake of being easily loopable. It might blow some UK bass crew minds but that’s no justification for reducing cultures into sepia. I’m gonna go listen to the Sd Laika record for a bit. (3)

6.3

Final scores:

Floating Points – ‘Nuits Sonores’ (7.3)
Nathan Fake – ‘Nuuk’ (6.4)
Hodge & Facta – ‘Spheres of Costa Rica’ (6.3)
Theo Parrish – ‘Be In Yo Self’ (6.2)
James Blake – ‘200 Press'(5.7)
A$AP Ferg / Clams Casino – ‘Talk It’ (5.2)