the home current

And so back with the Home Current, again many thanks to Geoff at Static Caravan for shipping this out, an absolute must have lathe cut 7 inch / CD package. Limited to just 100 copies and selling fast, a four-track feast, two tracks of which feature on the lathe with the additional brace bolstering the accompanying CD quartet. A release best described as a coming of age event, it finds Mr Jensen stepping up to the plate to impishly mess with your head in the crafting of a four-headed sonic hydra that slinks, snakes and seduces the underbelly of the more in tuned low lit nocturnal hidey holes passing for cool clubland. The sounds slick and minimalist yet lushly toned are primed with a sense of the yesterday, the now and the tomorrow, both backward glancing and forward thinking a Balearic seasoning peppers their grooving. ‘uncertain twilight’ opens the proceedings, dizzily dazzled in a vintage 80’s shelling, its fluid body checking bops and funk-struck flightiness has all the clinical ear candy wherewithal to imagine a ‘the crackdown’ era Cabaret Voltaire being fed through the eye of an 808 State hyperreal mind morph. While it’s title and initial moments might well encroach into darker terrains that edge ever cautiously around the second side of Tubeway Army’s ‘replicas’, ‘ballad of the night machines’ peels and fractures resplendently radiant to reveal a floor thumping festival high in waiting on seduce setting future wave colossus trimmed in the likeness of a mid-career Plaid. On a personal level, favourite moment here is when waiting deadly’ – mentioned in passing somewhere here a day or so ago, which to paraphrase (not) we noted fondly is ‘a glitch grooved slice of minimalist tech all shuffling trip hop beats and mutant funk nano-bot designer wear artificial intelligence blip core, one for after-hours listening consumption, at once measured and intricately honed, sounding I must admit like a deeply isolationist and spectral Biosphere trading in sound worlds that recall the early catalogue ear wear of the likes of Expanding, Rednetic and Smallfish’. Rounding up the four track dance floor charge, itself the cause of much swooning here, the glitch groomed ‘Kvalitetstid’ is awash in Balearic after glows, trance toned smoulders and bliss kissed euphoric raptures, cannibalising the sounds of lost club nights into one hulking 90’s after shock.     

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