Where so much deep house looks to the African-American experience for inspirationa truism for house producers of various races and nationalitiesthe Haifa-raised, Amsterdam-based Juju & Jordash turn to a subject closer to home: the politics of Israel. They approach their subject metaphorically, in terms of the golema mystical clay being, an automaton, that guards over Jewish cemeteries, dutiful but also dumb, and sometimes truculent. "Is Israel a modern golem created to protect the Jews but left to run amok?" they ask in the printed insert. "Is it an experiment bound for destruction?"
If that sounds like awfully heady stuff"Inspiration comes from years wrestling with Zionism, victimhood and vengeance," they addthe music tells you, instantly, that this isn't empty hand-waving. Somewhere between Kassem Mosse's dejected shuffle and the quicksilver sonics of Newworldaquarium's "Trespassers," this is as brooding and as burnished as slow, deep techno gets. It's the color of an old penny; if it had a flavor, it would taste like one too. Both tracks are variations on a theme, with a single, three-note bassline trudging doggedly through the murk; the same chords and arpeggios reappearing in the muddy midrange, taking shape as though assembling themselves out of the muck itself.
The A-side is nearly 16 minutes long, and the B-side over seven. You don't need a press release to tell you that this is as "live" as electronic music gets; there's nothing programmatic about the way their lines morph and tangle. At times it recalls Cobblestone Jazz, if their cobblestones were set in molasses; you can also hear something of Donato Dozzy's organic phrasing here, and it's no surprise to learn that Juju & Jordash are working with Move D on a collaborative project, Magic Mountain High. Both tunes, in the hands of a good DJ, are absolutely appropriate for the club, but they're just as rewarding heard at home, preferably loud and on extended repeat.
(Philip Sherburne, Resident Advisor - 4.5 stars)