While I haven't heard enough to have an opinion on Paul Woolford, I find myself generally really not digging his Special Request project. As popular as it is, his early- and mid-90s nuum-derived breakbeat bangers have not just never really connected with me the way, say, Lukid's Refreshers project has or Zomby's 2009 trek to 1992. But that's really neither here nor there for today's For A Song choice. Minor Science is an artist that I didn't really pay much mind to when I first read about him in RA, namely cuz it turned out it was the project of long-term RA scribe Angus Finlayson. Not being the biggest fan of scene nepotism, I turned a blind eye to the annual records he dropped on such white-hot labels as The Trilogy Tapes and Whities. It wasn't until I picked up a bargain bin copy of Chevel's Blurse Remixed package that I was confronted with the fact that I had been sleeping on one of the more exciting contemporary electronic artists out there. Hell, that remix could just as easily be featured here, so Imma just gonna throw it on up.
Hey, it's a two-fer-one special, ain't it?!
Also, if I had taken just a peek at the different tracklists posted on his Tumblr of ast mixes, well, dude clearly knows his shit. Ok, onto the track....
Dispensing with the slow-rolling ambient intro of the original, staccato cuts of digital diamonds are hammered out as dramatic, sweeping pads gently escalate things until they turn sour and we're plunged into a dungeon of the producer's own making. Recalling the sub drops of Shackleton but jacked up on industrial steroids, the sharp cuts are paired with a nimble quarter-note hi-hat that keeps the time while the low-end and mids engage in an extended old school duel, replete with the twenty paces and shit. Things level up around three minutes in, the structure remaining but the breaks now being fully unleashed on the listener, bursting through the muted veil behind which they had been hatching their nefarious takeover. But there's always a third act, right? And Finlayson chooses to go for the parabolic structure by thwarting his errant drums and returning them to their cage, letting the air out until we're left with just a shadow. Curtains close.