Although Dosem is already a popular international party deejay, this is his first, full album and it’s a hit. His crisp, clean and clear compositions make perfect sense for the dancefloor, even though he doesn’t stint with the detail.
One black disc, one white. Two sides of Spanish producer Marc Dosem, each of which speaks of “a moment, a memory, or a special person” from his young life, the first showcasing dancefloor techno, the second intended to display his talents just outside its confines.
Although Dosem is already a popular international party deejay, this is his first, full album and it’s a hit. His crisp, clean and clear compositions make perfect sense for the dancefloor, even though he doesn’t stint with the detail. The twenty-two tracks are all sleek, straightforward and streamlined but astute; smart about what people like to hear without commercial smarm. A piano opens the first disc warm and welcomingly before the first of two previously-released, hit singles, “Silent Drop,” is offered up round and bouncy in its “album mix” (the other is “Beach Kisses”). Within the guidelines of what is actually a tightly-regulated genre, Dosem finds plenty of wiggle room, injecting detail, flavour and even a little sex appeal and screwball humour (“You like our owl?” “It’s artificial?” “Of course it is.”) while keeping the beat steady but varied in tone and timbre. Although there are plenty of concessons to convention—ironically, a track called “Same Process” being among them—a very “typical-sounding” techno dance track like “Esnite” is much more interesting because of its dented-can drums, and an anthem like “Together” is lifted by smirky keyboards.
The white disc is intended to release Dosem from the single-minded demands of the dance crowd, pulsing more than beating, freer to explore. Nonetheless, he proves to be more of an innovative force within dance music, though when he balances the tart and the sweet just right, his personality lifts him beyond a serviceable but largely undistinguished rhythmic electronica. The squeal of steel wheel on steel rail with a velvety trumpet is a clever juxtaposition on “Distant Playground.” “Children of Yesterday” conjures an Oriental bazaar whose muzak is being piped in by Kraftwerk. “Questions” is opened-ended enough and the riffled keyboards of “Early Reflections” diffractive enough to distract you.
Although both discs are very nice to listen to, for the most part the difference is indeed black and white—within the restraints imposed by the utilitarian demands of the dance beat, Dosem constanly finds new solutions to make your ears perk up. Given freer reign, he tends to approximate the familiar. As such, the white disc serves nicely as music to wind down from the exhilirating uplift of the black one.
Parallel is available on Sino.
