Let’s try and figure out what on earth could be an exciting electronic music maker in the year 2003. Let’s call him “the producer”. The producer would suck up and digest the flotsam and jetsam of recent years and spit it out enhanced and augmented and harmonious and highly efficient. This would not result in anything like bastard pop’s cut n’ paste aerobics. This would not produce the instant leftovers churned out by the all-u-can-eat music machine. The producer would inject his hip hop strategies into the sweating instinctual 4/4 body, all the while teaching him his most futuristic and cerebral techniques. Para One is the producer.
Instrumental to the L'Atelier project, appearing on both the TTC and the L’Armée des 12 LPs, with a string of outings on such labels as Quality Streetz, N Records and Tsunami Addiction under his belt, Para One now offers a unique synthesis of the manifold aspects of his craft. Beat Down EP is out on Institubes, a label founded by Tekilatex and Tacteel.
On the title track, his old friends from TTC and their DJ Orgasmic Le Toxicologue, D’Oz from Kroniker and Tes, whiz kid from Brooklyn whose Tesx2 LP was just released by Lex Records/Warp are holding court. A beatbox provided by Tes is mangled and generously fleshed out: layers upon layers of synthetic textures, striated streams of pop vocals, cut-up scratches and murky glitches are fighting for air time, as if Timbaland and Autechre were dicking around at McDonald’s, throwing low cuisine at each other, incidentally starting the First Food War.
On “J’aimerais Bien”, Para displays his (not so) soft and sensitive side. Heard through levitating atmospherics, the track’s pulses seem to ride gently above a vast expanse of clouds, before morphing into semi-hostile twirls and boring (not so) mercilessly through it. Please enjoy through headphones, crying.
“Turtle Trouble” is far more straightforward business. Demonstrating a remarkable purity of purpose, it will get any party started. Acid and clipped, “Turtle Trouble” is what you might want to call a hit, its unstoppable dance thrust sprinting to the end with its head up.
“Nobody Cares” wraps things up in the most delicate way: funky, digital, cold and groovy all at once. An anonymous fembot gets a good spank from the drumbeat while a nondescript vocoder mutters a not quite crystal clear hook. A time is coming when strip joints will exist only online. Then, virtual biatches will slowly gyrate on “Nobody Cares”.
Instrumental to the L'Atelier project, appearing on both the TTC and the L’Armée des 12 LPs, with a string of outings on such labels as Quality Streetz, N Records and Tsunami Addiction under his belt, Para One now offers a unique synthesis of the manifold aspects of his craft. Beat Down EP is out on Institubes, a label founded by Tekilatex and Tacteel.
On the title track, his old friends from TTC and their DJ Orgasmic Le Toxicologue, D’Oz from Kroniker and Tes, whiz kid from Brooklyn whose Tesx2 LP was just released by Lex Records/Warp are holding court. A beatbox provided by Tes is mangled and generously fleshed out: layers upon layers of synthetic textures, striated streams of pop vocals, cut-up scratches and murky glitches are fighting for air time, as if Timbaland and Autechre were dicking around at McDonald’s, throwing low cuisine at each other, incidentally starting the First Food War.
On “J’aimerais Bien”, Para displays his (not so) soft and sensitive side. Heard through levitating atmospherics, the track’s pulses seem to ride gently above a vast expanse of clouds, before morphing into semi-hostile twirls and boring (not so) mercilessly through it. Please enjoy through headphones, crying.
“Turtle Trouble” is far more straightforward business. Demonstrating a remarkable purity of purpose, it will get any party started. Acid and clipped, “Turtle Trouble” is what you might want to call a hit, its unstoppable dance thrust sprinting to the end with its head up.
“Nobody Cares” wraps things up in the most delicate way: funky, digital, cold and groovy all at once. An anonymous fembot gets a good spank from the drumbeat while a nondescript vocoder mutters a not quite crystal clear hook. A time is coming when strip joints will exist only online. Then, virtual biatches will slowly gyrate on “Nobody Cares”.
Tracklisting
