Restaurant of Assassins
Even for a techno artist, Neil Landstrumm has never travelled the easy path. Needless to say, even now as the airhorns and glo-sticks of acid house get dusted down and shaken back into life Landstrumm throws up the sounds of ‘89, ‘73 and the future in one package. That’s not so say that this is a disc of revivalist tripe; on the contrary it’s synthetic dancehall music that creeps along, skipping between clinical dark electro and raggafied dubstep, throwing in influences from Detroit, Sheffield and Trenchtown plus a few from the outer reaches of the cosmos.
The common thread is bass. Tons of it. Throbbing, squelching, rumbling, pulsing, thudding, there’s enough to make your ribs rattle and your arse quake. Landstrumm eschews the typical drawn-out dancefloor track length in favour of 11 condensed, intense shocks. Still way too dark for your common or garden nu rave fan, but that’s probably all the recommendation you need really isn’t it?