The JDs :: Education (Pretension)

Distinctive in its depiction of bitter, bleak and shivery anthems that burrow their way outwards with burning anxieties and conflicting angst, leaving an aftermath of splintered sensations.

Carefully chiseled designs on anthemic beatwork

Education is a fictional discovery that provides percussive pathways to electronic and scientific expression. It’s testament to the ’80’s styled drum machine turned good, removed from its primitive coating and transformed within this lively offering, with carefully chiseled designs on anthemic beatwork, all hosted within a gallery of distorted forms. It’s distinctive in its depiction of bitter, bleak and shivery anthems that burrow their way outwards with burning anxieties and conflicting angst, leaving an aftermath of splintered sensations.

“Into the World” reveals a piercing vintage synth, spreading the rays on which to focus its distorted beats, all packaged tightly within a tapestry of metallic sounding haven. The slight distortion of beatwork defines a curious character, now illuminated by intimate pulses down avenues of alternate electronic culture shocks. This crazy majestic world of movement and strife, with its house driven, metallic sounds, comes to a grand finale with a traditional organ sound.

“Now Returns” gives flashback to the iconic British DJ Stu Allen – this sounds like upfront classic house. A haven for compulsive buzzing beats, percussive complexity and the kind of assortment that explores every option available. The bass is heavy and barbaric like, crashing into alternate areas of masculine form. Deep chords midway gave a greyscale to this work – mysterious yet fast moving, never exotic, but cold and blue, probing experimentation to lively intrigue.

“Dead Calm” thrusts a tribal beat to the fore before its body rises above the cornfields after weaving through dense stalks of sound, spreading its energy and optimism. Always haunting, its silvery mists surround its computerized robotic figures, which swell in all its grandeur. It sounds like a vinyl spin crazy master class; pounding drums are padded out with the cushioning of its majestic and uplifting tune. Its anxiety is parked firmly in the background, alongside hustle and bustle of traumatized normality and implications of random
speculation.

Flaunting high-pitched voltages is “I Don’t Know When to Stop.” The curves of the bass line sampling every pulse point during its interchanges. Flooded with flashes of sharp sounding infusions throughout, all rounded up and kept in check by electronic percussion that’s followed by the occasional stab of a more conventional drum roll towards the end. It’s throbbing and responsive, sporting an ever-changing progression to its heights. There’s a vocoded voice-over before the swells of synthetic color come into play – the real spine tingling moment of the track, topped off with a pointy melody over the rich swirls spreading beneath, and to expansion. This track flourishes with every note; the futuristic appeal of its elongated outro is significant; waves of vintage synth and super effective harmonies. Suddenly, it leaves like a fast moving cyclone.

“Inuit Bedoin” is almost jungle like; a film piece that’s slightly exotic, with a lively carnival like extravagance. A medley of strict beat structure, melodies in darker sounding keys, mystic voices and crazed laughs from another dimension, all frantically merged into one convenient time zone. Dissonant lines find their way in among the activity, all kept on course by a very dominant bass line and beat trap. The electro static entrance of “Computer Woes” is augmented with the weighting of a meaty bass line giving mass impact. As the gentle American voiceover fades, it expands with increasing amounts of melody now zoning in and out. The tuneful sequence is set alongside the intricate stabs of alternate electro-scape, creating a blurred vision of computer samples, bit rates and electro static elegance – if such a thing exists.

More vocal drive and a noted gentle approach is evident with “Radiation.” There’s a lively, reverb saturated beat throughout, flirting with slight hints of pop overtones, while also dispensing a liberal amount of drum and bass bias. Self contained, and coiled like a spring, before branching out and touching once again, on the more pop like forms. “Come Sea Goat” appears in the first instance with a very haunting shift of energy before shaping into a simplistic map of striped down beat crashes and computerized pulses. It breaks into a computer happy melodic sequence, supplemented with more break beat, then expanded – quite happily quenching the thirst for rich synth backdrops. It deepens with each bar, resolving with mass fire up of beat bullets, before picking up the trail once again.

A Jurrasic Park of musical phenomena explodes with “Who Controls the Controllers.” The obstreperous display of a monstrous life form gives in to both the curious and the freakish.

Without a doubt, this work provides plenty of multi-layered attacks with beats that are busily robotic. The compositions are lengthy and inviting, with masses of intricate detail, coupled with the placement of sparse, yet dramatically positioned spot lighting, unknowingly defying movement against its direction and inviting the listener into its grand electro cycles.

Not only does The JDs nameplate signify the artists’ initials, it also pays homage to James Brown’s backing band The JB’s. A funky dynamic of beats and bass persists with Jack and Jon’s collision of audio control educating the population.

Education is out now on Pretension. [Bandcamp]