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  • Release Date 2015-07-27
  • Label Broken20
  • Catalog B6004
Let's get the grand statement out of the way quickly: 'Transference' feels important. Now obviously that's a tricky one because we're releasing it. Selfevidently, we believe in it and appreciate it and are prepared to put our money, both figuratively and literally, where our mouth is on this. But 'Transference' feels different, like a newborn who's already worldly wise; a fresh but fully formed series of ideas and emotional expressions. And we know that we're blessed to be releasing it. As MB, resident at London's much-missed techno night Colony, and as a live artist who's gathering plaudits all the way to Mnml Ssgs in Japan, Tengui aka Max Bacharach could easily have hawked 'Transference' to a dozen other labels, not (if you ask us) necessarily better, but assuredly bigger than the humble ship Broken60. But he likes what we do as much as we appreciate his thing, so we're locked in a comradely embrace. The album's been a long time coming. It seems like Max has been building and tweaking these tracks for as long as we've known him, a good five years plus by our broken watches. What's emerged from those steady, patient processes is an album that knows itself, understands the crevasses in its own character, and wants to tell you its stories by cold firelight. Opener 'Shadows' sets the scene: intricate sound design, smudged blue chords and reclaimed sonic artefacts that dance between left and right like neurones in a drunken fug. It's beautiful but unsettling, weightless yet weighty. In other words, it's the perfect gateway to this sound world. 'Conditions' starts like Terry Riley on ket, variations on a single note mouthing gentle harmonics and nuance over yet more watchful, unsettling panning, before a secondary tone enters the stage and, eventually, bullies its way from dissonant to dominant. 'Transference' owes as much to Coil and Guy Debord as it does motor city techno, but that's not to talk down its heft. 'Mutation' isn't afraid to flex some muscle, burrowing around the lower registers while focussed percussion gives a first hint, 22 minutes into the album, of Tengui's club nous. It's a masterclass in restraint, never letting rip, but 'Kicktrip' is the payoff. Gamelan bell sounds sit giddily under a spoken echo chamber induction, un...
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