(10.13.05) A SubVariant style dosing agent against SMO (sonic mediocrity overexposure), Subvaritrax aims to cure what ails the overwhelmed melodic IDM listener by allowing them to enter into a receptively poignant mental state through ministration of artfully arranged sonic vibrations and textures. Subvaritrax also cures hyper-tension brought about by an inundation of repetitive BPM and repairs receptors damaged by the supra-processization of an excessive application of DSP patches.
Phylum Sinter’s “Monastic Phase” starts the gentle release into your bloodstream with tender melodies drifting in a free-form solution of squishy beats and rain-kissed tones. Marshall Watson recommends a “Fall Without Change,” a gravity-free undulation of synthesizer and frayed beats that moves like a heat wave across still landscapes. Label-owner Liz McLean Knight who records as Quantazelle (as well as being the creative force behind the jewelry line Zelle and attendant online shop, Fractalspin.com) slips us a dose of “Late Blazing Kinch Theme,” a vaguely Aphex Twin rhythm scattered across harp melodies and subdermal beat dappling. It’ll hitch in your throat and leave a resonating hum that will percolate through your brain for days. She also offers “Braking (Hushed),” a gurgling lurching tune that sounds like electric wind chimes being shaken by a low magnitude earthquake. Nothing traumatic, just chaotic movement given sound.
Randy Garcia’s “Honkeywrench” keeps catching my ear as it dances and jabbers about. Anchored by the spitting sound of speaker feedback from local RF signals (and I get it enough at the day job that I keep thinking that this track is just fucked up and not cleverly recycling modern noise detritus), R_Garcia throws up squiggling pong melodies that flit about with joyous abandon. There’s a middle of the Subvaritrax dose that goes all woozy on you with house rhythms skewed with jittery noises and squelchy bursts of liquid funk as Matthew Mercer, Popkan, Kero and Derek Michael ooze into your system. Tim Koch’s “Minor Rendered” puddles with aquatic dub while ringing with minor chords that are flung up like fireworks to hang in the sky. A sinuous funk beat slithers into the room and coils around our ankles, lending a lurching stagger to our dance steps. While Zainetica delivers a swooping aerial ride filled with the guttering echoes of synthesized voices in “Bytesize,” Sense’s “Gift” is a orchestral wash of electronic tones and fluffy melodies.
As Set in Sand’s “A Echo of An Mistake” (sic) warbles and threatens to lose track of its rhythmic center (yet retains it in the end as the effort is to shift you slightly and not yank the chair out from beneath you), edIT’s “Spare Spork” shares no such illusions. The beats in “Spare Spork” stab at you with their guttering intensity, echoing in the background like ping pong balls ricocheting off concrete walls. The lonesome guitar melody in the foreground is dragged in the wake
of the beats, its melancholy secondary to the gutter-jerk of the affected beats. Quench keeps some of the manic energy afforded by edIT (this is the end of the dosage after all, somnambulant effects must be wiped away) but channels it as BPMs. Shivering beats collapse and percolate like hot water in a coffee maker while digital melodies churn and curl around one another like snakes, like Mobius patterns.
SubVariant takes a very serious approach to presentation and the limited release of Subvaritrax comes as a Rx package, a personalized prescription written just for your mental state. “Play entire CD twice daily or as needed” read the instructions on the plastic casing. Would that all medicines that make you feel better go down so easily (and the final glistening water electronica of Ochre eases you back from your SubVariant-induced slumber). This is a heartily recommended panacea for the beat-broke blues.
Subvaritrax is out now on SubVariant.
