Werks Like a 12” – Review

Werks Like a 12″

(Astralwerks)
by Joshua Brown

DJ Grumpy mixed this exemplary display of mostly American talent, culled from Astralwerks’ unique roster of electronic wizardry. Like most good mix CDs, it’s hard to distinguish where one song ends and another begins, and the energy never lets up. Soul Oddity‘s “Chrome Ozone” sets the tone for chaotic euphoria, sounding like a rumbling profusion of circuitry gone haywire, sending sparks flying in every direction. Spacetime Continuum‘s “Freelon” is a majestic and sentimental ode to innerspace. The next act is the all star team of techno: Alex Patterson from the Orb, Youth from Killing Joke (ubiquitous producer, owner of the trance label Dragonfly), Paul Oakenfold (house music guru, owner of British dance label Perfecto, remixer for the Cure , U2, etc.), Derrick May (Detroit’s “godfather of techno,” Transmat label exec), and fusion guitarist Steve Hillage. “Sirenes,” remixed by Carl Craig and produced by French rave-fave Laurent Garnier, is a bright, sky-flavored tune, like seeing the sun for the first time. Freaky Chakra‘s “Peace Fixation” is a screamer of a track, an intense and lovely junglized headtrip that’s as amusing as it is claustrophobic. Next, regarding Steve Fisk’s “Express God (cap’n stargazer vs. commander mindfuck astral anal probe mix)”: Let me Express my thanks to God that it isn’t “Express God (cap’n shoegazer vs. commander dumbfuck astronomical anal wart mix).” I don’t think I could stand the buzzkill. The phat buzz to which I refer is highlighted by Freaky Chakra’s “Fat Buzz.” The song’s presence in the mix lays a funky foundation for “Express God,” and a good lead-in to Ben Neill‘s “Sistrum,” a marriage of minimalist ambience and party-pounding beats. Like a fierce magnetic disturbance of unknown origin, 777’s devastating dancefloor anthem “Alpha Wave,” remixed by Ontario’s Plastikman, appears first as a distant warning, gradually transforming into a full-blown electrical storm that turns refrigerators into ovens and toaster-ovens into dishwashers (in other words, what mind-melting techno is supposed to do). When the storm lets up, a stifling residual disturbance lingers in the air, symbolized by Spacetime Continuum’s “Room Kick,” a sticky, thickly liquid drum ‘n’ bass tune that feels like trying to run in waist-deep water.