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Dancing. The beats searching for bodies to inhabit, brains to rearrange. Let's talk about this darkness in dance music. Not the willful hard gestures found in genres that go through the end stages of a heavy drug phase. No, this is a darkness inherent in the experience of house music: the trance opening to a plane where forces push you into different kinds of euphoria or, in the opposite direction, into different kinds of darkness. . . . the chills down your spine that don't feel correct . . . thoughts whirling without connection . . . things moving at the edge of your vision . . . And then, after the bodily confusion, this emptiness of the soul . . . the city, at once, forced into your consciousness, a shady place in the mind that one can get accustomed to and even grow to like. From the beginning of house music there have been records and producers that wanted to inhabit this place: think 'Acid Trax,' 'Mentasm,' Jeff Mills, and Basic Channel. The grit, the rolling of the 303, the circular drives and echoes creating a tunnel sound, a sound of your mind being pulled into a vastness that is both promising and scary. Indeed, the title of Baby Ford's brilliant new album doesn't so much refer to the 909 drum machine as to this sacred machine into which minds are thrown whilst dancing: a living assemblage of bodies, technology, and music that searches for new pleasures.
The three opening tracks immediately set the tone and pace: somber and
intense music built for the dance floor, climaxing with the Millsian
splendor of 'Tea Party' built around a piano motif and one of those
screeching sounds the Detroit master sadly eschews these days. The twelve-minute
long 'Bad Friday' becomes the centerpiece of the album, a beautiful rolling
nightmare that wouldn't be out of place on Plastikman's 'Sheet One' (very
high praise around these parts). Occasionally Baby Ford slows things down to
form a bit of contrast, as on the dubby 'Late Check Out,' the dark trip-hop
of 'Word For Word,' and the calm techno of the appropriately titled closer
'The Healing.' At first hearing, the tracks may sound too minimal, but under close
scrutiny (at top volume, on headphones, or just by the trained ear of the
techno lover who is attuned to intricate details), there is a wealth of
detail in these tracks: for instance, the astounding way the reverbed piano
motif of '24hr' unfolds; the rhythm of 'Sugarspoon' suspended over a
oscillating background hum; or the interplay between cold intricate drum
programming and lovely warm synth stabs on 'Arbo.' 'Sacred Machine' isn't a
forbidding album, in its will-to-dance it must be populist, but at the same
time, this functionality will take some time to get into when played at home. Its meaning and its true pleasure beyond DJ-tool may somehow escape the listener, but trying to work these out is ultimately a rewarding experience.
A triumph.
http://www.kindamuzik.net/recensie/baby-ford-the-ifach-collective/sacred-machine/1445/
Meer Baby Ford & the Ifach collective op KindaMuzik: http://www.kindamuzik.net/artiest/baby-ford-the-ifach-collective
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