WONKY CARTON

RON TRENT AND CHEZ DAMIER - 1993

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 16:38:29 +0100

Seminal. Legendary. Genius. These are words which journalists always lament for their over- and inappropriate use … and then proceed to use them anyway.

I am not going to use any of these words.

I am just going to post this link.

Enjoy.

DJ KOZE - Burn with me

Thu, 25 Apr 2013 00:03:32 +0100

DJ Koze recently released a track called ‘Burn with me’. It’s another banger from an old Benji B show, rumbling in like the 1840 from Hereford. It’s underpinned by some low dissonance, cutting industrial sounds skirting across the top and some elastic percussion adding the icing layer.

It’s one of those tracks which doesn’t necessarily go anywhere; but then there are those sounds which don’t need to. It’s incessant and driven enough not to matter. Not to worry itself. Not to worry you.

The little flicks and pauses, the stops and goes, are what define it.

Gloriously depressive.

Lowtec

Mon, 08 Apr 2013 23:15:43 +0100

‘Carbon Copy’ by Lowtec. I love the fact that Lowtec has engineered a sound that seems familiar but remains totally distinctive. It’s got elements of analog, of simple, thumb-tapping hi-hats; but it’s also got beautifully deep beats and rumbling basslines. This particular track has a bizarre synth line thrown in too, which is sicklier than a broken keyboard in Chicago and still somehow works.

If you like the vague genre of ‘house’, and the vague genre of ‘techno’, you kinda have to love this.

Artifact - The Way It Do

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 20:17:00 +0100

I have just discovered that Bristol producer Artifact, who did a wicked mix for Sonic Router in 2011, has recently released a double A titled ‘The Way It Do’/’We Trapped’. Better late than never, huh.

On a cut released by Berlin/London label somethinksounds, the former track is the real monster. Its main force is its irresistible swing, a wooden and echoing off-beat pulse indicative of Artifact’s city of residence. The percussive elasticity is then enforced by low, dissonant grumblings and squelches which land gladly away from parody, while nastily-cut loops of build up, which sound like a commercial house DJ butchering their big drop, actually work as an effective atmospheric touch.

As the musical paradox which so many producers seek, therefore, this track is both clever and simple. It has enough to entertain the brain but a commensurate amount to encourage the feet. And that is something worth purchasing.

The Range #2

Sat, 30 Mar 2013 09:46:51 +0000

Last week I posted a track by Providence producer The Range. Today I post two tracks by Providence producer The Range.

First is old(er) tune ‘Metal Swing’. The gruff hi-hats are a mite’s body off-beat, perfectly placed within its whole syncopated structure. The vocal loop, probably discernible to the more affluent ear, is an urgent call to the other arrangements to match its prominence. The track, therefore, becomes louder and more agitated, leaving the vocal to predominate ‘til its exhausted but thrilling end.

Second is new tune ‘PS3’, which features on his forthcoming EP Seneca, out 23 April. ‘PS3’ is a tight patchwork of loops, utilising that footwork-mode of clipping a female vocal so tightly that it becomes a percussive drill both familiar and strangely beautiful. Overlaid are a couple of wonderful high-end melodies - strummed guitar, picked guitar, synth - and a typically off-kilter beat. Incredible stuff.

I promise I won’t make the resurrection of the Carton just about The Range. At the moment, it’s just quite hard not to.

Back with a Promise(s)

Sat, 23 Mar 2013 17:46:56 +0000

Yes. It’s been a long while. It is certainly not lack of want, more lack of energy. But, with Spring announcing itself with buckets of slush and temperatures which don’t just tease zero but strip off and dance provocatively in front of it, I feel it is time to inject some warmth into the forever welcoming blogosphere.

There have, in the absence of words on this site, been a large number of great tracks; it has, I feel, been a more fertile year than the last. There’s been a tangible move away from the last vagaries of the genre formerly - and at times witheringly - known as “post-dubstep”, which has allowed more explorative tendencies to flourish (rather than that oft, self-satisfied squelch). There has been a slight move away from trap, which is again welcome. And the great house music revival, as so eloquently (and sardonically) covered by Vice magazine here, is perhaps now inversely indicating how utterly wack some of this stuff is. Nevertheless, there have been some nice house releases - about which we hope to write about (at some point).

However, my main (re)discovery is Benji B. I had kind of tired of Benji B’s selection, perceiving his focus to be (rightly or wrongly, forced or chosen) moving towards covering the absent Gilles space on Radio 1. This meant more soul, more hip-hop, more American introspective shit. I always thought Benji was best when his shows were harder, faster, more exciting. You drunk wine to Gilles; you drunk Red Stripe to Benji. Anyway, the other day I gave Benji another go. And his show was fantastic. Brilliant. So many absolute tunes. And, among these, was this remix of Ciara (of course) by a producer called The Range.

This reworking of ‘Promise’ is simply fantastic. Soulful, diligent, delicately-constructed. You can even dance to it. It’s the kind of track to which you want to have a climactic, time-defining moment; you can’t necessarily force it but, if you feel one is about to happen, throw on this track. In that mould, it’s as anthemic as ‘What I’ve Lost’ by Benoit & Sergio. And that’s impressive shit.

Stay tuned folks.

trevorrayhart: Fritzrovia, London, England. 29th November 2012

Thu, 20 Dec 2012 08:21:25 +0000

trevorrayhart:

Fritzrovia, London, England.
29th November 2012

Jack Dixon - Free EP

Wed, 05 Dec 2012 20:44:25 +0000

Way back when, when when was not too long ago, London producer Jack Dixon made a mix for xlr8r which was nigh-on perfect. None of the tracks particularly stood out in brilliance or magnitude, but were all part of this one, smooth, warming, grooved narrative. It was cheerful, and sensible, with ice-cold execution.

His own productions have varied between the brilliant - ‘You Told’ - and the remixed ‘Lose Myself’ - but now, for some unknown reason (which is possibly kindness) Dixon has chosen to release three tracks for free on an EP entitled 1.

Normally, free tracks are pretty unremarkable, pretty throwaways undeemed of a release. But Dixon’s 1 is actually three fantastic nuggets of bright, sun- and vocal-filled house, layered, textured, emotive, thoughtful. The EP is everything that his xlr8r mix was. And, perhaps remarkably, even slightly better.

Absolutely grab it now.

Dustmite & Kuru - Bare

Sat, 24 Nov 2012 11:00:24 +0000

Allotments. Little patches of earth, formed by escape, tendered by strained stooping.

Flexed inwards, cultivators work deep into the soil. Grubby knees rub into the damp dirt, scratching and burning sore.

Several allotments – no, more – have been flooded in Oxfordshire, swamped by roguish water swimming close to the train line. One gate is like a weir, allowing water to pass with mendacious intent. Victorian farm bridges stand iconic but powerless, shortly to be stained by the wretched clench of mildew, damp and eroded beauty.

The train I am on is only slightly raised, yet thankfully glides carefully over the tracks.

The soundtrack to this is Dustmite & Kuru’s ‘Bare’, a DNB infused track which rushes through at a speed belying its 140 BPM. Its soft pad is anathema to a cold, syncopated rimshot, but it all dynamics are surrounded by this stunningly moving synth atmospheric which envelops you in a reassuring warmth. The break is fraught, fighting itself for calm amongst disjointed guitar loops and the previously elegant synths eating themselves in a frenzied temper.

And then it runs out, almost to a sleep, like a train, rolling to a halt betwixt two ominous field lakes of water.

Dustmite & Kuru seem relatively quiet on the Western front. They should definitely be louder.

Seven down, six across: Grandma’s calligraphy - Interview with Sam Willis

Tue, 20 Nov 2012 23:48:00 +0000

Very few artists nail that multifaceted ‘bathing in sound’ energy. The German language would express it with greater force, ‘kompliziert’: a matrix of emotion, sharpened senses, trundling water, mist, bright sunshine, height. Electronic music made to sound natural through samples, loops, and recordings. It is the predilection and provision of the few.

Sam Willis is one of these few. His new album, Winterval, is a mix of energetic nature and driving if soft beats – a love child of Cologne’s Kompakt, cold and certain imagery, and a desire to be considered in approach. It is, therefore, unsurprisingly long in the making, but joyous in release.

‘Winterval is made up of music that I’ve been tinkering with for the past few years in various forms,’ says Sam, ‘so it’s fair to say that I’ve filtered the stuff that I’ve been creating pretty thoroughly. What I felt was my best stuff ended up on there. It’s definitely been a rewarding experience, particularly the whole packaging of the record - I love the feeling of the body of music that I selected congealing into a whole, around the title, artwork etc’.

Indeed, the artwork is something of which Sam should be particularly proud. He is most known as one half of Kompakt-label duo Walls (the other half being Alessio Natalizia, of Banjo or Freakout), and Walls have generally visualised their material with bright, sun-heavy wisps. By contrast, Winterval is a record imagined in the cold: the covering image is a Mark Morb (http://markmorb.blogspot.co.uk/) print of waves crashing against grim, scraggy rocks. Further, the wonderful calligraphy on the LP was done by none other than Sam’s grandmother Hetty Fraser, originally from Benbecula in the Outer Hebrides.

Says Sam: ‘It was definitely a conscious effort to move the visual aesthetic on from what we’ve done with Walls in the past - it’s never good to stay in one place too long as things can get a bit predictable and stagnant. I just loved Mark Morb’s image and felt it fitted really well with my gran’s calligraphy, which to me at least gives it an internal sense of warmth in respect of my love for her! It’s a special feeling to be able to get her involved creatively on my album!’

The symbiosis of Willis’ grandmother, her art, and his production is a quite wonderful one, quietly apposite of his graduation to fine solo record. The iconography of the record, however, does not and should not determine the identity of the record. Insofar as the title track is a chilly walk through snow-laden paths, and is almost enough to form icicles on your eardrums, the rest of the LP is not actually that cold.

Atmospheric instrumentals - beats or otherwise – can obviously be terribly chilly and harsh beings, as glacial as the buffeted rocks on Winterval’s cover. Yet Winterval is more a chilly undercurrent infusing a bright and hopeful mood. Hear ‘Seven Down Six Across’, rumbling along with a pretty cold pad but bright guitar lines and glorious synths. Listen to ‘Foxglissandro’, whose spiralling guitar-taps interact with an unashamedly joyous 80s pop bassline. These are tracks for the currently balmy November, wallowing in sunshine.

Winterval certainly showcases Willis’ abilities. To me, anyway, Natalizia’s solo work has illustrated that he is the force behind Walls’ vocals, pop sensibilities and guitar lines. Admitting that he is not currently interested in vocals (something which may change, he says) Willis nonetheless proves he is Walls’ man for a strong rhythmical sense, emotional and meteorological warmth, and beautiful atmospherics.

Listening to Winterval, I grabbed this. But in our interview, I didn’t get the same sense of deeper meaning. When prompted to explain some philosophy behind the sound, Willis remained quite comfortable with a lack of intended meaning. ‘I’m really glad that you felt a [natural, environmental sound] coming through! I guess it’s just something that ends up in my music without much conscious effort.

‘As far as symbolism goes, I try to leave things as suggestive but oblique as possible to allow the listener to draw their own conclusions about the mood / theme / meaning behind a piece of music. In my opinion this gives it much more power than being too overt.’

I guess when a record is this deep, in emotion and in skill, the listener (or perhaps just critic) always seeks to find deeper motivation; as previously stated, one is convinced that there is something deeper which separates producers like Willis from the rash of others plying a similar but sadly average sonic route.

Yet, as Willis indicates, he has taken years to make excellent and beautiful music without conceived intention. In the tone of his answers, and from general correspondence, I believe him. And that, in a contemporary society and UK music scene which so often lauds the personality over the substance, is something worth cherishing.

Just like Hebridian calligraphy.

Sam Willis plays Birthdays in Stoke Newington this Thursday, 22 November. Get there.

Also, buy his new album Winterval here, out now on wax and digital.

Benoit & Sergio

Sun, 21 Oct 2012 10:58:57 +0100

Looking back, one of my favourite blog post entries for wonky carton is the one about ‘What I’ve Lost’ by Washington-based but Berlin house-scene-loving party animals Benoit & Sergio. (NB. Don’t bother trying to find it on google by typing in “wonky carton what i’ve lost”, because it comes up with results like myboyfriendisatwat.com. I’ve written for a few different publications and blogs … but never that one (as far as I can recall).) It can be found here.

Though I have certainly adopted harsher musical sensibilities since early 2011, that song still resonates in ways that essentially every other piece of music I have ever heard cannot. It is at once magnificent in execution and provocative in emotion. Anyone who has ever emerged into the sunlight after four hours in a crazy, uninhibited, depraved, smelly, dark environment should be able to understand the hazy but delicate wistfulness; the portent of happiness despite some seriously frayed senses; the longing; the perfect moment.

Since ‘WIL’ Benoit & Sergio have released a few EPs and singles, a mix for RA, and generally established themselves as part of the Visionquest-led house movement. ‘Walk and Talk’ was an absolute smash; ‘Full Grown Man’ a wobbly, jutty, dutty hit; and the ubiquitous ‘Principles’, a track so soaked in ketamine that I am surprised it made it to the cut.

None of these, for me, came close to matching their previous height (a considerable one, of course). But now comes a new EP on Visionquest called New Ships, and a new powerful sound.

The title track is fucking wonderful. It’s absurdly 80s bassline is fantastic, strutting like a peacock underneath another ket-soaked vocal line. Then comes a kick drum and a guitar riff as funky as Maceo Plex’s dance moves. It’s more upbeat than their previous releases, more eager to dance, more focused on funk and, dare I say it, more professionally produced.

It doesn’t have the emotive thrust of ‘What I’ve Lost’ - but it once more a track for the sunlight after dark, for the reminiscences of the red-wine stained lips and smoke-filled jackets. It is definition returning, and gladly so.

Perc - Start Chopping

Sat, 20 Oct 2012 11:41:00 +0100

Perc, the UK producer, used to (and still does) remind me of the Berghain’s Kantine for its sheer bowel-clenchingly deep industry.

Listening to Perc for joy at home proved more difficult. It seemed a little too extraneous, too intense … for absorption into, or to be the soundtrack for, normal structures of life. Like standing on the tube, for example.

But that changed when I heard his track in the Electronic Explorations mix - ‘Steve Bull’. It was a track of perfect, ambient rudiment: sediment slowly washing across the light grains of noise, pitch-shifting in increasing intensity, blowing out like a slot machine within its own disturbed unease.

I sought, then, something a little more linear - to revisit the sound I had kind of declined. I was delighted to find that my own reservations had lessened, and Perc’s brutal, visceral, industrial sound had been captured with absolute precision on his 2011 album Wicker & Steel. Current pick of the bunch is ‘Start Chopping’ - a burst of industrial energy and a simple, sliced male cry.

Try this ear coat on for size: it’s warm, encompassing, and robust against the cold (it is, in fact, very warm).

And it also comes with a waistcoat - a remix by Tommy Four Seven which, unsurprisingly, takes the original and ratchets up the pace. Enjoy.

Dennis.

Thu, 18 Oct 2012 22:59:31 +0100

Dennis.

Fennesz - Fa 2012

Mon, 15 Oct 2012 22:18:10 +0100

From the silence I emerge. Textured, dark, beautiful. Sibilant resonance. A beat, slow in coming, long in leaving. A hum in the distance of bells, eventually, and then away.

If you like your ambient techno, this release from Fennesz is absolutely for you. Check it now.

Synkro and Indigo, Exit Records Boat Party, Dimensions Festival...

Sun, 30 Sep 2012 13:18:12 +0100

Synkro and Indigo, Exit Records Boat Party, Dimensions Festival 2012

Photo: Luke Gray

In the clutch ... Dimensions Choice #5 - Synkro

Sun, 30 Sep 2012 13:16:02 +0100

And finally, but by no means lastly …

I must say that by a definitive distance (though we’re talking Olympic sprint margins here) the best performance belonged to Manchester producer Synkro. Or, shall I say performances.

Beneath flaming hair and sturdy-rimmed glasses, atop a boat (Exit Records) and on a stage, Synkro proved the ultimate selector and professional mixer. He traversed mellifluous dubstep, darkest techno, bass-driven juts. He played that luxurious chill-out dub sound of his on the boat, holding hundreds of sunburnt north Europeans in stem. Then, back later at Mungo’s stage, with a beefy soundsystem and space to dance, he dropped his co-producer Indigo’s forthcoming track ‘Wake’ as well as the UK classic ‘Your Words Matter’.

In the clutch he was Kobe, MJ and the new Le Bron, all rolled into one. It was that off-beat kick drum and climactic, vocal-led tracks, funk in the dark, singing the words you wished you knew. Of the whole weekend his Mungo’s set was the one where you wanted the tracklist. And so, as far as a set on the closing night can go, it was elementally, laughingly, perfect.

Joy Orbison, Dimensions 2012 Photo by Luke Gray

Sat, 22 Sep 2012 14:15:14 +0100

Joy Orbison, Dimensions 2012

Photo by Luke Gray

In the clutch ... Dimensions Choice #4 - Joy Orbison

Sat, 22 Sep 2012 14:13:00 +0100

Classiest performance of the festival went to Joy Orbison, who comes in at a belated No.4 in my Dimensions’ best.

Watched by a large number of other prominent DJs from the back – including Four Tet, Floating Points and the omnipresent Scuba – Peter O’Grady stood hypnotic before a wasted, convulsing crowd – shoulders ceaselessly dipping in tandem, fingers moving across the mixer like glass, eyes darting around and ears stoutly pricked. Despite his rhythmic movement he appeared an icon of still against the back visuals and before a sea of flux; the image of calm in a festival characterised by movement.

It was perhaps surprising to me that Orbison surged through a set of bass-heavy techno, rather than his initial, more dubstep-speed-focused era-defining foray (‘The Shrew’, ‘J Doe’, ‘Wet Look’). I asked my friend afterwards whether he is best suited to this pace level (126-132BPM) but over a few hours I realised that it was ungenerous intrigue.

O’Grady has clearly moved on from that (especially considering I last saw him ages ago) and he now djs with an almost incomparable grace, perfection, knowledge and riddled finger activity. A standard of his set was cleverly exploiting dynamics to extend tracks into individual mini opuses, then seamlessly merging them when they’d stretched as far as they could go. His inclusion of Blawan’s new terror track ‘Why They Hide Their Bodies Under My Garage’ was a particular highlight, especially as we were missing Blawan to see Orbison.

Surrounded by a mellifluous throng of revellers I leant on the barrier to catch some rest, synced in time and happy to just watch. It was then I realised two things.

Orbison stands as one of the best producers of this generation. That I already knew.

What I didn’t realise is that he’s one of the best DJs, too.

DJ Rum at Dimensions Festival 2012

Sat, 22 Sep 2012 13:46:05 +0100

DJ Rum at Dimensions Festival 2012

In the clutch ... Dimensions Choice #3 - Todd Terje

Sun, 16 Sep 2012 22:43:21 +0100

Todd Terje was my big tip for the last night - tucked nicely in the 0000-2000 slot before fellow Scandinavian house man Axel Boman.

The Norwegian producer first broke my attention with his remix of Paul Simon’s ‘Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes’. It was a long, lolloping remaster, full of the original’s slap bass, produced in a fug of reverb and underscored with ‘Diamonds” unmistakable drum patter. It was always my first choice for the last moments of the day, dusty evenings and red sky.

Though his remix collection is generally damn tight (Hot Chip, Lindstrom, Bombay Bicycle Club) Terje is more noted for two whopping self releases: Ragysh (Single) and It’s the Arps. The former was cracker house, deep rolling, tech-infused, with ‘Snooze for Love’ the antidote to the big time drop of ‘Ragysh’. The second, meanwhile, was a funk of disco-inspired house, created with the ‘Arp 2600’. ‘Swing Star Pts.1 and 2’ oscillated in space with a cowbell, while ‘Inspector Norse’ hop-scotched it’s way through delightful samples and modulated synth noises. It’s a delirious mix of happiness but, unlike so many other E-number house hits, remains immensely likeable.

So I was expecting big at Dimensions. Armed with beer and anticipation I must admit that the lead half of Terje’s set was unanticipated and a little disappointing. It went down the softer techno route rather than the wacky, disco route, and contrasted underwhelmingly with the harder edged stuff in the Moat. It was little too warm around the edges, without the cut that house and techno can more imaginatively thrust.

The second hour, by contrast, was magical. Terje dropped more opaque thuds and sought funkier and melodic beats. He went piano- rather than pad-driven. He sought a slower but more upbeat tempo. And he sought a climax in his set by dropping what became the festival’s sample-laden barmy-anthem, ‘Inspector Norse’. His willingness to play his own star hit proved what had brought me to his entire set (a commanding desire considering the bill’s riches): he was intent on having fun, and this would be nothing but awesome for the last night’s crowd.