Blurse

Over the course of his career, Chevel (aka Dario Tronchin) has gained a mastery over slow melodic fades and sharp ricocheting beats, honing an ability to transport the listener. On Blurse, these elements come into play immediately; euphoric introduction Comb is marked by a spectral panning sequence and beats chopped with a culinary expert's sense of elegance. The drum-kit-sounds that feature throughout are used sparingly but deliver maximum impact upon the listener's nervous system. The block percussion on The Windrunner and Low Roof perfectly complements the synthetic sheen produced by fuzz distortion, radio static, and bandpass-filtered soundbites, taking the listener to a terrain where a palette of decay effects provides just as much aesthetic inspiration as the presence of technological advancement. There is more than enough humor and playfulness at work here, too, helping to once again banish the persistent stereotype of the modern techno producer as a sterile technician; the queasy melody line and the sliced-and-diced whistling, gelatinous bounce of Loop #33 recall a child's playtime wonder more than they do the rarefied rigor of the laboratory. The less pulsating numbers like Loop #42 and closer A Form of Love engage the listener as well, evoking short films of abiogenesis (the process of life arising from non-living matter). These tracks are not so much interludes or contemplative retreats from the action as they are enhancers of it, utilizing fluttering cycles of melody to engage in a kind of conversation with the more driving tracks. As to the driving tracks themselves, the places to which they drive the listener are satisfyingly beyond everyday experience. In other words, despite the consistency of Chevel's sonic toolkit and overall atmosphere, there is a rich variety in the emotional color on display here. The net effect is like a dream-state that echoes long after waking, though one can't pinpoint exactly why - compelling the listener to dive back into the dream-pool to experience it again.