Available on: Mote Evolver 12″
The review is a sacred thing, built on a foundation of trust and the sanctity of honour. It’s not a soapbox or outlet for the reviewer’s broader opinions or grudges, is it?
Well, hang that. This review, ostensibly of the new remix package on Luke Slater’s Mote Evolver label, is not going to focus on the excellent Marcel Fengler, behind the original track here (sorry Marcel), who is fast becoming the next Berghain resident to achieve the heights of his better known fore-runners Dettman and Klock.
It will touch only briefly on the two A side tracks – the P.A.S. remix covering ground from the classic period of that Slater alias, reminiscent of Booster and the infamous JB3 remix, and Norman Nodge’s rework offering a slightly pedestrian rattle through some well worn tropes, all rattling hats and stabs – and focus only a little more on the other mix by Slater, under his more stripped down L.B. Dub Corp alias, which is unfairly relegated to digital only (deserving of higher billing by virtue of avoiding the straight 4/4 and building almost-hidden arpeggiated bleeps, white noise and bass pressure into a release-deferring groove that never quite climaxes in the best possible way).
No, instead this review will focus on the artist behind the B-side mix – possibly the most unfairly overlooked artist in techno, Mike Parker. Parker has been ploughing his distinct and uncompromising vision for years and received scant press attention or wide acclaim; lacking a Hawtin mix CD inclusion, big name remix or Fabric crossover potential, he’s been quietly and unassumingly putting out incredible 12″s on his own Geophone label and a few other like minded outlets with no mind to fashion, trends or anything “mnml”.
His remix, like all his work, operates along the same alien, robotic groove; like the L.B. mix it eschews a straight kick for a syncopated bump, with echoed metallic tones and triplet patterns delineating a cavernous space filled with beaten steel and clouds of dust. At eight minutes long, precious little happens bar hi-hats skittering in and out, fading rather than cutting, with an organic touch sadly lacking in other more sequenced sounding records, but the purity and single-mindedness of the rhythms are what’s important; the listener locks in and loses themselves.
Parker should by rights be a name mentioned in the same breath as other more widely hyped producers but sadly this isn’t yet the case. This reviewer will look to set that right, one review at a time.