#abstrack records

I’ve been focused of late on an exciting musical collective based around Abstrack Records, which encompasses a range of artists from the Nantes scene, as well as related acts throughout Europe. Since I haven’t had a chance to write yet about Abstrack’s slate of releases, I would like to spend some time doing so here in the introduction. The label debuted with Fréquence Pure Vol. 1, which featured DJ Solange’s broken beats and layers of minimalist club magic, with gleaming IDM metals, hovering angel voices, big blasts of bass, and demented synth riff distortions. As well, there were the desert caravan dance rhythms, world percussion tapestries, marauding basslines, snake charmer guitars, mystical woodwinds, and cosmic trance electronics of Vidock’s the Balek Band, whose Danse Primitive on Beauty & The Beat was also a major favorite of mine, though I regrettably never reviewed it. Next came Dreamtown Ethnic Cylinder, another multi-artist mélange featuring Sun Lounge favorites 404 generating an alien paradise of ever morphing exotica rhythms, with mysterious sirens swimming across exo-planetary landscapes, and stoned eruptions of braindance beat hypnotics overlaid by buzzing waves of granular noise. As well, Malcolm delivered body-beating techno drums amidst extraterrestrial synth slides and mutating displays of equatorial metal, with evil acid lines pulsing and breakdowns into ritualistic free jazz drum madness. And closing out Dreamtown Ethnic Cylinder is label main man Vidock, whose anxious breakbeats possess a ritualistic tribal energy that merges rave and rainforest, while also featuring extended world drum freakouts. Lysergic angels serenade the sky, pitch-shifting voices chant strange spells, gemstone hazes sparkle in the sunlight, and in a peak-time climax, jacking acid trance rhythms support a solar choir and their hymns of celestial fantasy and ecstatic wonderment.

Abstrack dropped an edit 12” next, featuring two works from Vidock, and one each from Edits de Nantes and Fanch. And here, balearic beats cruise in the desert moonlight and reed and fuzz leads howl, as idiophones cycle against ethereal pads and an expressive crooner pleads into the night; tribal trance grooves are slowed to a feverish acid chug and psych folk riffs loop through filtering cosmic mists while throat sung mysticisms intersperse with spiritual chants; sassy French prog meets Latin fusion, wherein conga line drums, solar horns, and liquid basslines work the body beneath joyous shouts and piano and steel pan hypnotics; and Afro-Carribean rhythms shuffle aside slapfunk basslines, with tropical electronics, ecstatic singing, and soloing brass all recalling Dementos-era Yasuaki Shimizu. Which brings me at last to Kanot’s Hit & Run, the newest release on Abstrack, and a spellbinding two track/two remix adventure. On the originals, Can-style krautfunk basslines ping, pong, and pulse, over infectious breakbeats or minimalist jazz fusion grooves, while the background swirls with psychotropic shimmers, LSD-glimmers, and refracting webs of echo. Neon-hued synth leads rocket towards universes unknown, and electric and acoustic guitars color the spectrum via heavy doom riffs, liquid fuzz leads, palm-muted echo patterns, and jangling webs of forest folk psychedelia. As for the remixes, Vidock morphs “Turbulens” into a minimal expanse of tribal club drumming and esoteric dub stimulation. Acid lines filter through hazes of fire, basslines rattle the ribcage, and mysterious voices babble into the void, with the track continually breaking down into cold clouds of delirium drone. Then, The Pilotwings’ remix of “Hit & Run” takes the listener on a horizontal rave odyssey awash in mystical magic, wherein ceremonial drums build ever towards ecstasy, futuristic angel voices chop into chill-out trance euphoria, laser light arpeggios fire across parallel dimensions, and spiritual choirs sing hymns of the interstellar abyss.

Kanot - Hit & Run (Abstrack Records, 2021) Spectral shimmers fade in at the start of “Hit & Run,” like burnished metals reflecting a blinding light. Fairy voices sourced by one or both of Nose and Annsoe intertwine with telephonic tracers while new age pads morph, bend, and swirl…with threads of silver and rainbow intertwining. Crazed tropical slides rain down in the style of Len Leise as bulbous dub funk bass riffs drop onto the mix, pushing so much air as they move through fat bottomed pulses and hammer-on licks, with each vibration rendered in stunning detail. Tight funk beats work the body from ear to ear—the drums seemingly double tracked, or even featuring a dual drummer attack...like Jaki Liebezeit playing against himself—and the Holger Czukay style basslines continue generating a storm of psychotropic groove, as further layers of liquid lysergia are added via palm muting echo licks, and distorted Floyian funk guitars. Gonzo synth leads beam in from alien galaxies, with polychromatic melodies dancing star-to-star and mind-bending runs ascending at hyperspeed through aqueous baths of delay and reverb. Dubwise echoes refract across the mix, sassy voices speak mystical spells, and ethereal angel choirs drone softly through an ethereal haze, with claps cracking and laser light pads climbing towards the heavens. The groove is deeply infectious and unsettled at once, possessing as it does a sort of anxious energy that refuses to ever quite lock in, with Kanot preferring to keep the mind and body ever on the edge of psychedelic explosion. At some point the bassline backs into an understated shadow pulse, leaving space for trippy palm muted guitar percolations and body-moving breakbeats that converse across the stereo field. Spindly synthesizer fx crawl across the surface of the mind and ripping fuzz guitar solo enters the scene, reaching towards those Tony Iommi-levels of stoner psych shred as swaths of star ocean vapor threaten to subsume the mix. Riffs, licks, and melodic phrases from all across the track combine towards the end in progressive rock and 70s groove splendor, with fuzz synths and fuzz guitars spraying LSD vapors, tropical tracers melting down, breathy voices purring sensual mysteries, and summery funk riffs jangling in cloud of overdrive…until it all slowly fades away.

All the way at the other end of the B-side sits The Pilotwings’ remix of “Hit & Run,” which begins with a primordial hum that slowly resolves into a cosmic choir soundbath. Tribal percussions hit and bubbling rave electronics make serpentine motions in the darkness, with cymbals rattling and shakers riding on pulses of thick sub bass smoke. Chopped up trance vocals beam in from the space of dreams…these floating technoid angles singing over rhythmic synthesizers that mimic the songs of frogs and insects. Massive swells of sound repeatedly resolve into a climax of ritualistic drumming that quickly recedes, leaving space for progressive sequences to filter towards psychedelic abstraction. Playful kosmische arpeggios evoke a harp made of laser light and orchestral pads blare like sirens as they skim across some neon ocean surface, with a beat finally forming in the shape of slow methodical pounding…as if tribal trance has been reduced to a pure essence of mystical balearica, and transformed into a sundown ceremonial of shadowy dream magic. Fogs of golden glitter splash off myriad ride cymbals and massive wood drums are seemingly smashed by giants…all as the droning choirs diffuse in before decaying towards infinity. Acid threads colored in dayglo hues wrap around the mind as the immersive bass sculpting generates warming waves that float the body, and as everything cuts away dramatically, spiritual choirs are left to sing their soft songs of esoterica above a bed of chittering insects. Drum fills and cymbal rolls portend a progressive trance explosion that never quite comes, with the Pilotwings steadfastly refusing to drop any sort of structured break or club beat. Instead, they keep the mind locked into an eternal state of ecstatic ritual…the vibe like some futuristic energy glide through forests made of melting light, or some old world ceremonial of ancient and unknowable magic performed by space age druids…their spectral incantations cast across a sky suffused by sonar sequences and sparkling starshine.

“Turbulens” begins with repetitive industrial sound cycles smothered in phaser, before transitioning into a 70s-style jazz fusion and space funk stomp, with bass reducing to a low down throb, and interspersed with heady slapback lizard licks. The vibe is somewhere between early 70s Miles Davis and early 00s Circle, as the snare pops energetically on the beat, hesitant kick drums hit off of it, and splayed shimmer patterns flow across the cymbals…all while a polyrhythmic synth line snakes through the air, bringing with it touches of spy movie exotica. Suddenly, the track transitions towards acid folk and prog rock balladry, as acoustic guitars play to a mysterious moon and liquid metals rain down from stars. Basslines enter to phase and flange as they strut through dark forest undergrowth, with their bending lines smothered in pot smoke. Jazz cymbals splash as majestic chord changes portend visions of epic fantasy, and fuzz guitars are reduced to an ambient howl…the whole thing like the more tripped out and horizontal moments from Mushrooms Project, or like Led Zeppelin wandering through a fourth world daydream. Everything cuts away, leaving fluids to babble through corridors of ice and stone, while funky echo basslines slip-slide into the void…the jam slow, low, and zoned out. Kick and electronic snare hold a skeletal blues beat, hand drums add touches of tropical intensity, and the prog folk guitars reemerge to case shadowy spells of neofolk psychedelia while the stereo field overflows with ghostly moans and hallucinatory vapors. A fuzz guitar solo blazes towards the sky—setting the air aflame with distorted waves of fire—and eventually, basslines resume their liquid stoner strut, resulting in a laid back proto-doom groove, one that again recalls Black Sabbath, or perhaps their ancestors Dead Meadow, only morphed and mutated through the lens of dub, and given an extra dash of balearic magic. As massive tom fills storm across the stereo field, a fuzz riff enters to duel with the basslines, which pushes the vibes of stoner rock and psychedelic doom towards a glorious maximum, while also recalling NorCal acid jam legends Mammatus. Then, moving towards the end, everything seems to bliss out towards peaceful waters…but the flaming guitar solo continues growing in intensity, spitting waves of burning delirium as it screams across the sky.

Vidock’s “Turbulens (Matrix Remix)” begins again with looping industrial fluids, which soon cut away, leaving a doped out dub drum stomp. A trapkit bashes through the void as each hit splashes off layers of black dust and haze, and all through the air, chittering electronics dance around a morphing choir of the cosmic void…their cold and terrifying aria proceeding over chugging subsonic fluids, ricocheting hand percussions, and maniacal trap kit pyrotechnics. The drums cut away at times, leaving the soul to float through chasms of haunted machine hum and frozen ambient abstraction, and each time the rhythms return, the track seems to grow in intensity. Morphing electro patterns reverse and pan, creating some sort of mystical prog trance sequence…only slowed to the pace of an opium den fever vision…while enigmatic voices speak unknowable incantations. The rhythms morph into a lurching groove, with acid tracers firing ear to ear, and the beats cut again, leaving basslines to vibrate violently and snares to crack in a fog of frozen crystal. Later—after a stretch of oscillatory psychoactivation—the tribal ceremonial of tripped out dub dancing returns, with melodic esoterica blowing in on a breath of galactic wind. The percussion bounces and beats with a ritualized energy, and kaleidoscopic panoramas of rimshots and bell taps merge seamlessly with acidic blips and neon-colored IDM atmospherics. Towards the end, drum and bass begin filtering and transforming into corrosive clouds of darkness while acid electronics fire chaotically. Melodic themes of triumph blow through the mix trailing wisps of polychrome light, and as the hypnotizing dance grooves return, ethereal leads shimmer and shine far in the distance…their shape hardly discernible, yet radiating layers of glowing harmonic feedback. Anxious hyperspeed cymbal rolls rustle in the background like uncountable insect wings, and at last, a voice washes the mix clean, leaving behind panning streaks of oceanic ether and choir of crickets greeting a glorious sunset.