Eagle-eyed readers may have noticed the output of the blog has recently dropped from Bugger All, to the sort of activity you’d normally associate with entropy. Fact is several things have come to a bit of a head recently which have had an effect on my undoubted abilities to spraf on and on about records.
What this means is, in the short-term at least, the blog is going be on a sort of three-day-week. I have a few bits and pieces to try to finish up, but after that I think I’m going to be taking a little break in order to recharge batteries and continue to write the world’s worst sci-fi novel. I don’t know when things will be back to normal, but It hopefully won’t be too long. Anyway, here’s a review for you all.
T Flex – Mimic EP (Null+Void)
It’s either a sign of ageing, or the fact it’s becoming all but impossible to keep up with everything that’s happening within this one little corner of electronic music, but it feels that as soon as I leave the house in the morning, I’m tripping over début releases by previously unheard-of electro producers. Neither of those things are bad; the influx of new blood, with new ideas and directions is the thing that keeps all scenes going. In electro, a genre with particular ways of being, it not only keeps it vital, but widens the net of possibilities.
Mimic by T Flex is a pretty good snapshot of the ways in which the genre has finally began to extend its interests into other realms. Not only that, but it does something which seems to have become a little less common than it once was – blending a sense of deepness with genuine grooves.
And this is indeed a record where the grooves provide almost everything of note. The thick, rhythmic forms which underpin the music provide networks where raw movement is transformed into melody, meaning, and warmth. Actually, there is little about any of it which is raw. For the most part we’re dealing with a sophisticated sense of what a groove actually is, and the way it informs so much of the music naturally puts you in mind of older, and less confined, ways of doing things.
Not that Mimic glances rearward terribly often. For the most part influences are suggestive, invoking subtle connections of memories and feelings instead any concrete comparisons. Punga, for instance, swims through a dark and dubby ocean, reminiscent in places of peak period Hauntologists with the same emphasis on back-lit thought-scapes and swirling momentum. Incandescent Rush, with its bubbling chords and heavy sinews of bass reaches for a more high-tech soul approach, but fuels the music with a singularity of introspection, powering a gorgeous slice of electro-funk.
There is much to like on Mimic, and even when certain elements threaten to overtake any consensus of tones and textures, such as on Mimic itself where the grooves are scattered, there is still enough sense of a tight and overarching sense of direction that enough space is provided for the moods and emotion to shine through. We have a record here which understands that the grooves are the purest starting point, and builds its worlds from that simple fact. A tight and exciting début, and more evidence of that electro is finally entering a new age.