I always like to tie in the show to events happening in Portland that weekend, on the off chance that anyone’s listening who doesn’t yet know. This week I actually went straight from the station to Process to see Roman Flügel spin, which means the show tied in to an event currently in progress. I didn’t really know what to expect going in. Fluegel’s newer releases which drew me in operate in a bloopy, italo-inspired zone that reminds me most of the Norwegian space discoers (Todd Terje, Lindstrøm, Prins Thomas), a sound that felt at odds to me with his origins in the German techno scene. Well, turns out Flügel spins capital-T Techno, of the Berlin-via-Detroit with a touch of Chicago variety, and it’s damn good. The sound was music to dance to, a fun sound that got even better when the floor opened up past midnight. He also dropped in some real eyebrow-raisers, tunes to goof to, which may yet see the light of day on TWC.
This is what space disco exists for. It’s instrumental pop perfection through Casio speakers, one of those songs that is so good I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t at least crack a smile. “Sirius Syntoms” absolutely soars. It reopens portals to Disco Fantasyland that have been closed for fifty years despite the pop world’s best efforts. Still, it doesn’t feel tied to nostalgia because it’s so damn listenable that it would succeed in just about any year you dropped it into. It’ll succeed in another 50 years. Pop is catharsis, and the emotional release that comes with the climax of the melody on this song is disco Shakespeare.
Todd Terje is a genuinely good musician who has a lot of gems in his back catalog (and a perfectly constructed artist name which I only recently learned was a Todd Terry reference), but he bears the blessing and the curse of writing an all-time classic earworm hook that will forever be the first thing associated with him. “Inspector Norse” is a wonderful track that may forever be doomed to YouTube compilations of “Songs You Know but Don’t Know the Name Of,” where it will live in eternity next to Chelsea Dagger by the Fratellis and Kernkraft 400 by Zombie Nation. I honestly feel bad for including it in the tracklist when I could have played “Delorean Dynamite” or “Eurodans” but I’ve yet to play “Inspector Norse" on TWC yet and it is just too damn fun not to. I’ve heard it a million times and I will hear it a million more and I will bob up and down with the perfectly bouncy bassline every single time while I hum along to that lead. Sorry Todd, I’ll play a different one next time.
Speaking of bloopy Scandinavian synths… Mr. Berg did a good job naming this track, which sounds to me like sitting in a bathtub and adding an entire box of alka-seltzer. Most of the time when I describe a track as sounding “underwater” it’s a shorthand for soft focus and smoothed sound palate combined with the focused echoes of sonar pings or dolphin chatter - think the atmospheric jungle of Peshay. “Dissolve” feels aquatic without resorting to any of those tropes; it’s more like being surrounded by a school of small exotic fish. Squiggly synth lines dart around you in a way that feels random and rigidly patterned at the same time, while the cymbals glitter like flecks of silt. All that flittiness is anchored by a womping bassline that somehow keeps the whole thing from spinning out of control. In an alternate universe, this is a 30+ minute ambient journey released on Longform Editions (tk hyperlink). In this one, it’s a song that has a genuine chance at being a dancefloor destroyer, if deployed correctly.
This song sits at a crossroads. A six-way, diagonal crossroads that should be a nightmare to turn at but works nonetheless. BELLA’s original starts us off with a vintage ‘ardkore-meets-hip-house base, the type of breakbeat house that seems to get forgotten in rosy looks back at what the ‘90s left us. It’s a perfectly fine track, I’m sure it would go off on the right dancefloor, but it doesn’t do a whole lot for me in isolation. Olsvangèr then comes along and slams three more genres into the whole equation, leaving a track that fits everywhere and nowhere in a surprisingly useful way. On top of BELLA’s original housey bounce there are burbling psytrance zings and a jock jams-esque buildup halfway through that releases into deep house chords and a surprise jazz solo. I’ve played this song on the show before, probably more times than it deserves, because it fits so many holes that I could justify it in the tracklist for just about any theme I land on. It wouldn’t sound too out of place in a psyche-y techno set a la Naff, a tech house set, a capital-H House set, maybe even a garage set, and it would be perfect as a segue between all of the above. It’s a fun track but it’s also a useful track, the mortar that holds a playlist together. (I also have to shout out the label, run by Sally C, for one of the best names active: Big Saldo’s Chunkers. Good Chunker, BELLA and Olsvangèr.)
I’ve been mixing in earnest a lot more recently, two- to three-hour sets for an audience of one in the living room. It rearranges your taste. My listening is atomized most of the time, but building a three hour mix forces you to make choices and find a throughline that pulls the set together. This is the type of sound I find myself landing on. It’s anchored by an undeniable dancefloor pulse somewhere between Hessle bass and Ostgut techno, but the bloopy pointillist top line harkens more to Detroit techno or the retro futurist capital-S Synth tones of space disco. I love this sound. It has cousins in the Hans Berg track from this week and the Olof Dreijer tunes that were my favorite releases of 2024. This bloopy, cheeky, zinging little track sounds like the future to me, more than any orthodox revival or internet-fried melange (though I do love some of those). It acknowledges and distills the past, but exists as its own sound. More bloops, please.
Little Simz is the type of artist who could do just about anything she wanted and it’d probably sound fantastic, so it’s a real treat when she decides to put out tunes that I can play on the show. “Mood Swings” was my favorite cut on the Drop 7 EP upon release; Simz’s energy fluctuates from quiet intensity to unleashed shouts between verses and chorus. The production meanwhile matches Simz’s vocals perfectly. Pulsing, nearly subconscious kick drums explode into a clattering of snares when she turns up the dial, an interplay that encourages you to lean in and listen closer. I (foolishly) didn’t catch on to just how much techno and UK bass DNA was in “Mood Swings” until Ben UFO dropped it 5 minutes into his set for the 10th anniversary of Sinai Soundsystem. A good selection in a good set can be eye-opening.
Hagop Tchaparian has been relatively quiet since debuting his music career 3 years ago on the excellent Four Tet-produced Bolts. It makes sense given his process. Flipping years of backlogged field recordings into full club-ready tracks can’t be a quick thing so here he turns to the up and coming Anish Kumar to apply a similar treatment to Mr. Tet’s go. It even sounds like some of the same sounds rear their head here, I’ve definitely heard those drums on “Right to Riot,” but the whole thing still works. Kumar is a deft sample flipper, and his housier style meshes surprisingly well with the now-trademark Tchaparian clatter. I’d be perfectly happy to keep listening to more producers’ takes on Tchaparian’s sound library. If the first couple are any indication, he clearly has a good ear and a better microphone.
I’m ready to swing with my big trend prediction for 2025: the techno heads are going to get into house again. The warm reception to Loidis’ One Day is just the start, because eventually people will remember that house is at its best when it is funky, and cuts like “Deep Burnt” will stand with waiting arms to smooth that transition. This is deep house on a geological dub techno timescale. It finds the hypnosis of your Basic Channels and your Ricardo Villaloboses but it retains just enough of house’s humanity that you never feel lost in machine world. I love hearing the soft clicks of a sample looping to extend a string note and the rattling chimes of a house-to-the-core hi hat loop nestled into the groove. This is dancing music as much as it’s listening music. You can put it on in the living room and still find yourself shaking your hips on the sofa.