It must surely be brave move when electronic genre orientated record labels are opting to produce and distribute vinyl only releases. That niche market extinguishes everything around it that kind of clogs up what makes music so special: the experience of the product and how it delivers the goods to the body’s rhythmic senses.
This release can only be purchased via vinyl or CD, the physical trumping the technological forms of consumerism to focus on how each melody and magic moment of house directly links to our emotions as people: specialised, personalised and selective; unique, transcendent and prized to its owner. Limited Records have just released such an alternative concept, that spins and swirls in its own glow in the dark orbit which in download territory would be considered a foolish stunt should the tunes be shit; but in the case they are anything but; they are a collective and compiled four track EP that validates and justifies what makes music in terms of being accessible only by the grab of a hand and the intentions behind such a consistent motif, so damn important, powerful, and utterly refreshing: the vinyl came before it all, and is still the most innovative and intimate ways of listening to music.
Opening track, ‘Odb’ by Dean Barred only receives more praise the more it repeats. It twitches and glistens like chrome coated machinery; clockwork ticking on with transcending sound effects that hover in the background. The thumping drum forever walking on, the hisses and hums of a car park late at night in a big city scratch the surface of its skin; flexible and palpitating, oozing with euphoric power like a soundtrack to a science fiction utopia pool party; dark but heavily enjoyable throughout its quirky quake.
The original mix of, ‘French Chick’ by Dubbtone and Tileff utilizes melodic bass bursts, sparse atmospheres and wobbling echoes of bouncing power; French accent whispering seductive and sinister underlying the prowl before the pounce of a track that consumes everything the more it’s wave of silver grows into a mighty climax.
U.D.A’s, ‘Stolen Hope’ incorporates equally psychedelic tinged traits throughout; fizzles, drones and murmurs breathe humid air into its Goliath lungs, empowering all and invading everything the more the trigger is pulled and demonic voice delays purr in the shadows and flashing lights continue to flash entrancing everything in its beguiling beauty.
‘Ery Babe’ by Jamahr comes across robotic, but robust: magnetic tug and pulls of bewitching glitches provide colour to an otherwise static screen of black and white. Unbroken and trance-inducing it’s a song that constantly swells in its neon conundrum, dropping out and diving back in; levitating gently above the ground the more bass is built thick in a partnership with fluid, sporadic slices of metallic melodies and shots of sedative aura.
Anybody who is interested in the ethos of pressing physical only releases should really take a listen to this EP. One can only imagine what it sounds like on vinyl, turning everlasting to its own gallivant body built by bones of bass and not marrow: Limited Records with limitless abilities to stupefy anybody with their releases.
