(February 2010) I am going to be honest; when first reading on Ghostly International’s website that the new Lusine album, A Certain Distance, employed vocals and pop melodies, I suffered a tremor of dread. It’s not that there is anything wrong with composer Jeff McIlwain’s more dance floor friendly songs, it’s just that (in my opinion anyway) his greatest talents are to be found in the area of abstract sound design. Take his Language Barrier full length from Hymen Records for example. On that 2007 release, McIlwain abstained from any of the micro-house tropes that defined his early work, creating an atmospheric wonderland of tastefully manipulated samples. So it was with relatively low expectations that I queued up A Certain Distance, only to have the exquisite songs awaiting remind me that top shelf artist such as Lusine can breath life into any genre. This is quite possibly Lusine’s most fully realized album to date, skillfully blending the traditional electronica of Serial Hodgepodge with the textural flourishes of Language Barrier and infusing both with abundant warmth and humanity via heavily processed vocals.
The first thing that grabs the listeners attention with A Certain Distance is its amazingly lush sound quality. While McIlwain has always been known for pristine sounds and Ghostly has access to the best engineers in the industry, this is still a huge accomplishment. Every snare is crisp and clear, the keyboard and bass lines are thick without sounding bulgy and the peripheral sounds are as present as the lead melodies and rhythms. Most importantly, no matter how many layers are added to the audio collage, the compositions never feel cluttered. I can imagine generations of bedroom producers using A Certain Distance as a template for comparison while mixing their debuts. However, it is the compositions themselves that elevate this album from pleasant pastime to essential listening.
The opener, “Operation Costs,” is an absolute gem of jangled guitar and keyboard over a scorching beat. The vocals that complement the songs second half are so blurred with effects they merge effortlessly into the sonic tapestry, seeming to be just another instrument. “Two Dots,”, the first single, finds McIlwain slicing up the playful vocals of Vilja Larjosto into a thrilling head over heals melody, propelled by galloping percussion. “Tin Hat” is the most hip-hop influenced track on the album, very reminiscent of label mate Tadd Mullinix (aka Dabyre) at his head bobbing best. These three songs are a good synopsis of the album, as the majority of tracks have similar approaches. The two exceptions, “Every Disguise” and “Crowded Room” are the weakest points. These songs explore the well worn territory of four-on-the-floor house music, quite skillfully I might add. Unfortunately, when standing shoulder to shoulder with numbers like “Operation Costs” or the charmingly fuzzy closer “Cirrus,” these more straightforward interpretations seem somewhat lacking.
In the final analysis what separates A Certain Distance from the armada of similar sounding records is song craft, a term rarely used to describe experimental electronica. McIlwain has a genuine knack for hooks, crafting melodies so infectious they burrow into the listeners subconscious and refuse to leave. On first glance A Certain Distance may appear to be a dismissible, if imminently enjoyable, pop record. However, after close study, one finds not only a deeply nuanced piece of music but an artistic manifesto of sorts. It is as if McIlwain is challenging his pears to be forward looking and backward leaning, to seek innovation within the established paradigms of electronica, rather then deconstructing them. Producers striving to distinguish themselves as “progressive” usually focus on trying something new, a goal that may be neigh imposable in the saturated arena of modern music. However, as McIlwain so deftly reminds us, often times the greatest experimentation can be found not by reinventing the wheel but by rediscovering the classics.
A Certain Distance is out now on Ghostly International. [Listen & Purchase]
