- Release Date 2009-04-01
- Label Minus
- Catalog M72
With a cruising radius of around 8 minutes, each of the three tracks that make up the new Love Letters EP delivers a very specific message, ranging from the metallic, tribal groove of the title
track to the rolling, hypnotic techno of Practice and on to the looping, hybrid house of Fieldleft, proving once again that he’s among the most inventive, enterprising and versatile producers
As with the Fed On Youth EP and the accompanying 2007 continuous play album, it’s the juxtaposition of loose, mechanical beats with the devastating rush of efx-laden breakdowns that
make False so alluring. From the subliminal hiss that constitutes the background the dark, dusty grooves explode out of nowhere, creating a set of circumstances where the collective will of the dancefloor is subjected to forces beyond its control, inducing a state of total surrender.
His subtle use of processed vocals lends an earthy, organic quality to the otherwise synthetic storms on offer and in the case of Love Letters they infuse the groove with affirmative shouts
and low, indecipherable chants that conjure images of some bygone psychedelic ritual. It’s an edgy, mid-tempo affair with typically fragile glassy bleeps skating back and forth across the
metronomic rhythm section before the voices start stretching and contorting beyond description as Dear slowly increases the intensity, adding new layers and understated tweaks to the
arrangement in the process.
On the B-side, Practice skirts the darker side of the moon as Dear implements another memorable motif that lies somewhere between the realms of music and speech. The switchblade thrust of the beats cuts to the quick offering sturdy transport to a kaleidoscope of
clipped vocal samples that splay out in all directions in another devastating display of fx pyrotechnics. In accordance with the title, the track is punctuated by a simple, repeated explanation to the sonorous sorcery on display – practice indeed makes perfect.
The digital only cut Fieldleft kicks off with a bone dry percussion sequence and revolving synth stab that throbs with a life force all of its own. Once again, the tight angles and shiny surfaces
gradually dissolve as Dear gently expands the dimensions, opening up the delays and reverbs simultaneously to create an all encompassing wash of sound that leads us back down the rabbit hole. The pull is evident as reality is temporarily displaced once again.