Playlist 08.26.18 : Five Songs for the Weekend

Playlist 08.26.18 : Five Songs for the Weekend
@beaute.defile
Playlist 08.26.18 : Five Songs for the Weekend
@lovelypepa
Playlist 08.26.18 : Five Songs for the Weekend
@thedpages

TERR ‘Neuromancer’
(Krystal Klear Remix)

The Barcelona-based Brazilian producer and DJ Daniela Caldellas, AKA Terr, has specialised in a dystopic, sci-fi-influenced brand of house music since making her debut on Hotflush in 2016. Neuromancer, her first release on Correspondant and second EP of 2018, is named after the classic 1984 sci-fi novel by William Gibson. The title track is loaded with a wobbly low-end and synths deployed like lightsabers to conjure deep, weightless space. A floor-shuddering bassline adds heft, but the menace is overwhelmed by a more pleasant sensation. It’s like floating in some gravity-free zone, travelling without moving.

Krystal Klear’s remix is predictably maximalist. . A drum pattern that has no choice but to go somewhere leads into a barrage of excitable elements. There’s an electronic bell, an unwieldy bassline that wouldn’t sound of place on a Red Axes track, a bouncy riff that recalls peak-era Rex The Dog and synth from the original. Like much of what Krystal Klear makes, it’s infectious as hell.

Terr’s “Multiverse” takes us back to the cosmos with moody crackle, noirish synths, eerie vocals and pop-gun effects. Terr has a fondness for sounds that evoke the best sci-fi soundtracks of ’70s and ’80s, and “Multiverse,” like one of those films, is at once hopeful and searching, mystical and muscular. Neuromancer, Terr’s fifth EP in two years, continues her impressive run.

Read the rest of this article at Resident Advisor

Eagles & Butterflies – Last Dance (Solomun Remix)

Mr. Eagles & Butterflies got no others than Mano Le Tough and Solomun to remix his memorable Last Dance. Furthermore, these two mixes come on a very specially designed colored vinyl.

Read the rest of this article at Muting The Noise

Low – Disarray

Twenty years ago, long before electronic music’s production techniques were anywhere near as widespread in other genres, slowcore titans Low released a remix album. Such a thing wasn’t unheard of in the indie scene; Tortoise and Yo La Tengo were also flirting with dance-inspired mixes around that time. But in the case of Low, whose languid bass melodies and bright vocal harmonies seemed as organic as river channels carved into stone, the incorporation of DJ Vadim’s breakbeats and Porter Ricks’ minimal-techno pulses represented an unexpected shift toward the synthetic.

Like much of their forthcoming album Double Negative, “Disarray” marks a return to those electronic soundscapes. Recorded with B.J. Burton, a producer and engineer who has also worked with James Blake and Sylvan Esso, the song sounds as much decomposed as it is composed, as though the original tracks they laid down in the studio had been irretrievably corrupted. Its foundation is a gravelly, pulsing set of tones with all trace of their origins (bass? guitar? piano?) lost beneath the all-encompassing fuzz. Where the old Low remains is in the vocals—gorgeous close harmonies whose startling clarity is only accentuated by the blackened textures beneath them. That contrast goes to the heart of “Disarray”: “This evil spirit, man, it’s bringing me down,” sing Mimi Parker and Alan Sparkhawk in the song’s pained refrain, as if soaring high above unimaginable wreckage, unable to look away.

Read the rest of this article at Pitchfork

Ernest Rareberrg – Show Me Your Body

A large void for music that straight kicks your ass has loomed for quite some time, seemingly without anyone adding to the pot. But courtesy of Ernest Rareberrg‘s thrashing cut Show Me Your Body, we’re living rowdy again and then some.

Show Me Your Body pulls all its power from crashing together guitar chords, something close to N.E.R.D’s Brain, right down to main riffs and raunchy lyrics. SMYB’s itchy riff has a dastardly melody and moshy rhythm. Those flaring drums carry something destructive, something self-sabotaging egged on by the claps. Show Me Your Body’s production (by Ernest Rareberrg & Corey Tunnessen) is a complete loss of control and it pumps up Ernest’s mindless-sounding vocals.

Rareberrg’s vocals have a murmur delivery that sound like he’s being controlled, talking although none of the words are his. A minced melody roughs up his approach on the song and makes his lyrics, particularly in the chorus, of wanting what he wants or ignoring what others want come off cold but musically so punk.

Show Me Your Body is full-mouthed and electric. This song brings violent body movements, and sometimes that’s good for the soul.

Read the rest of this article at Back To The Elements

Empress Of – When I’m With Him

As Empress Of, Lorely Rodriguez stirs complex emotional dramas into the pure pleasure of dance pop. Her 2015 debut album, Me, paired wildly expressive beats with razor-sharp lyrics, and she’s continued to hone that combination with the singles she’s released since then. “When I’m With Him,” the latest track from her forthcoming sophomore record Us, injects some space into her usual arrangement, using light, breezy instrumentation as a staging ground for tense reflection on a flawed relationship.

Rodriguez appeared as a guest vocalist on Blood Orange’s 2016 album Freetown Sound, and some of his songwriting sensibilities seem to have rubbed off on her: Dev Hynes’ smoothest songs are often his most thematically conflicted. On “When I’m With Him,” Rodriguez pours so much sunshine into the air, it’s easy to miss the turbulent scenario unfolding in her lyrics. “I can’t help but repress/All of the signs telling me that I’m not fine,” she sings in a grounded deadpan. Reverb-heavy drums carry the beat, while glowing synthesizers and muted funk guitars supply texture beneath her breathy vocals. But it’s the chorus that gives “When I’m With Him” its poignant staying power. Rodriguez begins the refrain in a weightless falsetto like she’s pretending everything’s fine, then falls to the middle of her range like she’s crashing back down to reality. “When I’m With Him” treads lightly across a romance that looks perfect on the surface but feels rotten at the core, all while never showing a crack in its bright, easy veneer.

Read the rest of this article at Pitchfork

P.S. previous PLAYLISTS & more by P.F.M.