Scuba is the production and DJ alias of Paul Rose, the curator of Hotflush Recordings, a label, which having released some of the most important tracks of the formative period of dubstep, has grown into a leading player in the wider world of electronic music. A celebrated and influential DJ, Scuba was voted #25 in Resident Advisor’s 2011 poll of the world’s Top 100 DJs and has also been nominated for several categories in DJ Magazine’s Best of British 2011 Awards.
Earlier last year Scuba released his ‘Adrenalin’ EP, picking up radio plays from Zane Lowe, Annie Mac, and Rob Da Bank, illustrating how his sound has mutated into previously unexplored areas. Alongside ‘Adrenalin, Scuba also released his addition to K7!’s DJ Kicks series which has made notable appearances on several “Best of 2011″ lists.
On the 27th February, Scuba will release his third album through Hotflush. Entitled ‘Personality’ and featuring 11 brand new tracks, it takes in a wealth of genres across contemporary dance music, proving once again Scuba’s place at the cutting edge of the electronic music scene. Preceding his LP will be ‘The Hope’; pushing on from the tense atmospherics of previous Scuba material, the single fizzes with claustrophobic bass pressure and menacing narration. Backed by an exclusive non-album cut ‘Flash Addict’, ‘The Hope’ will proceed the album on the 6th February.
Scuba: ‘Personality‘ LP Hotflush Recordings Release date: 27th February 2012
CD Tracklist:
01. Ignition Key
02. Underbelly
03. The Hope
04. Dsy Chn
05. July
06. Action
07.Cognitive Dissonance
08. Gekko
09. NE1BUTU
10. Tulips
11. If U Want
Hotflush get off to a strong start in 2012 as they welcome Belgian newcomer Locked Groove to the fold. The title track is the pick for me, but all three tracks are the work of a promising new producer showcasing a deft amalgamation of deeper house, techno and garage influences. The EP is out on vinyl and digital on 16th Jan.
Berlin born DJ, producer and label owner Ben Klock is without a doubt one of the most significant characters in techno’s recent history. He is a resident at Berghain which has undoubtedly influenced Klock’s approach as a DJ and producer as well.
He is most famed for playing techno sets full of hypnotic, deep and heavy grooves he has earned him an excellent international reputation over the last few years. Klock pursues an unexacting fusion of quantum jumps and tradition – including effortless melodies or hook lines that you would usually associate with house. Being able to harmonize this method of industrial austerity, natural musicality and an impressive physicality is Ben Klock’s great art and skill.
All you really need to know about Klock is that he plays 12 hour sets from 10am to 10pm on a Sunday afternoon, any DJ that can do that and keep the party moving is good in my books. Hats off!
A man I rated very highly a couple of years ago, someone I still rate now, has come out of the wilderness with some real fire. Pangaea returns on Hessle Audio with this 2 track single which is quite dark and techy but also has the stamp of other classic Pangaea tracks. ‘Inna Daze‘ is my favourite of the two, using skippy drums, air horns, a nice cut up vocal and a Berghain influenced bass line. Maybe he’s been listening to Dark Arx, who knows? ‘Won’t Hurt‘ is a much more classic Dubstep track, it’s a solid piece of production but not necessarily an exciting one. None the less, as I said, I am still a fan of his, mostly for his 2009 and pre 2009 productions and hopefully this is the first of many more releases from Pangaea this year. Have a listen to the release plus a couple of my past favourites.
Black and whites in music are irresistible. Indie and dance. Rhythm and melody. 4-4 and broken beats. Even though some of the above are arguably the same meta category (the big one, er, ‘Africa versus Europe’, ‘black versus white’ if you’d rather) they’re still useful in defining some sort of polarity that tells us who we are, what we like.
Problem is, increasingly the black and whites that I used to depend upon are deserting me in favour of a confusing agenda of preferences made up of other prejudices: memory and nostalgia, shock and awe, plain old quality. When you no longer fall into any of the camps around which popular music forms its allegiances you need to find an agenda for every circumstance. The one on my mind right now is head vs body. This one I reserve these days for nightclubs, particularly Berlin’s Berghain (a body club in every definition).
On last visit I was struck by how listless the crowd at the club’s top room house outpost, Panoramabar, seemed compared to the ruthless clarity of purpose evident on the main Berghain dancefloor. I’ve always enjoyed Panoramabar; it does housey decadence with more class and intelligence than most places. At its best it’s a place where hetros happily rub shoulders with exhibitionists, muscle Marys and the club’s obligatory weirdos. Where you can sashay around with a rum and coke at some ridiculous hour, get offered fresh fruit at the bar, exchange beatific grins with fellow late night travelers and whoop and holler your way into the next evening. All this listening to sets by Carl Craig, Andre Galluzzi, Efdemin. Bliss.
But nonetheless, it’s always been a more blood-pumping experience for me plunging into the quadrant of Function One piled high in Berghain. Down here you don’t just sashay around elegantly wasted, you tend to jump up and down or stand mesmerised in the mist. The music isn’t appealing to your head, your waist, your ego. It’s after your body, your Id. It’s primal. It’s body music. And the body music that thunders through you from that incredible soundsystem is, of course, largely driven by pile-driver 4-4s.
Increasingly, though, the DJs entrusted with that floor – the Marcels, Ben Klock, Norman Nodge – are looking to the broken grooves of dubstep to punctuate their strain of intensely reduced techno, finding in it the scale and physicality the space demands. Scuba, who runs Berghain’s regular dubstep night, Sub.stance, is charting a perverse mirror of their journey as his production and sets become more and more pinned around the metronomic 4-4. Surely it’s no coincidence that this dancefloor is the common ground of all these experiences.
So, with the polarities slowly dissolving but dubstep and techno still just flirting with each other, trying to figure out how to reconcile their differences from Bristol to Berlin, it may be a safe bet that the answers reside in the body and not the head.
