Techno pioneer Luke Slater's latest release, "Fabric 32," was produced on a cold November night, and quickly linked on the internet so as many fans as possible could participate in the sonic drive. Aggressively sequenced with the austerity of a simple but powerful blend of hard/acid "UK" techno and minimal/raw "Detroit" hard house influences. The first several tracks remind me of my listening experience with Richie Hawtin's "Closer to the Edit," which involved begging the question of "when was this beat going to (ever) change?"
On the plus side, this new mix explores some fresh and exciting dark, underground territory – where the mysticism of techno beats rules on like a dungeon master in a D&D game. On the flip side, unless I accustom my ear to bending its tastes with frequent bouts of repetition in this bare-bones style, I will drive myself crazy trying to understand what is so unique about this treacherous hypnotic beat cycle. Fortunately for Slater, he saves his grace halfway through the mix as he picks up the changes and diversity when we least expect it and before it's too late. By bringing a sense of depth and exploration to his pursuit of endless pulsation, Slater, who has over a dozen aliases and cover names, manages to capture the curiosity and appreciation of yet another die-hard techno fan.
Specializing in subgenres like "machine funk," "deep acid," and "electronic funk," Luke Slater presents some finely-tuned mixing – performed flawlessly in the confines of his studio, mostly – to a nonstop track list of underground trance beats. I had a hard time adjusting to the first set of uneventful songs, but sounds improved when Switch's "A Bit Patchy" (track #8) blasted out a seeming tribute sample of a Western soundtrack (was that "The Good, Bad and Ugly?"), the digital tweaking of a cowboy's anthem turns into a breakbeat/thumping house track, with pounding drums, fuzzy bass, and sampled vocals. Here we get Luke's hard and edgy tones complimenting a perfect rhythm, in contrast to the many instances of electro monotony. Next, on Luke Slater's own "Organ Bender" (track #9), he offers up a carnival-esque organ sound gone slightly "evil" – yet I still enjoyed the dark tenor! On Shakes' track "Sister Self Doubt" (track #11), he delivers a straightforward dance-trance beat full of colorful basslines and some whiny punk vocals. Raudive's "Here" (track #14) ventures to freak out the timid listener with trippy trance beats while a seemingly muffled child's voice sounds in the distance with the resonance of a distorted echo-chamber clamor chirping in the background.
Just as repetition increases the familiarity of a groove, and "familiarity breeds contempt," these tracks must be digested over time and with a certain type of electronic patience. At first, listening to this intriguing "deep mix" offered up from the fine Fabric series was like having a finger stuck in an electric socket. At first there is shock and bewilderment from unpleasant sensations, i.e., a penetrating buzz and zing fills the air, and then somehow the painful process becomes sadistically enjoyable.
Overall, I felt a perennial state of anticipation for some "break" in the monotonous routine of repetitive 4/4 glitchy beats. I kept hoping that somewhere in the darkness would appear any tone with any kind of bright or mediocre resonance, a voice, a note or two of scaled music. After realizing that I wouldn't get that satisfaction, I held onto what was already present, many separate noises and clicks fused into a marvelous new invention. What Slater gives us here are many moments of modulation gone awry and tweaking, but a fundamental lack of purpose on the dance floor.
