Positive Centre has come a long way since his revelatory EPs on Our Circula Sound, which for some of us became a proof that techno, even at tempos that barely reach triple digits, can be just as captivating—if handled by a producer who is able to reach the outsides of a proverbial box. Those that pay attention will agree—the launch of his imprint In Silent Series was a signal of productional rebirth in many ways, seeing his previous works reassembled at higher tempos and powered unanimously by a full-out, charging energy rather than contemplative, slowly-burning force of industrial suggestion. Similar things can also be said about Daniele Antezza, who, after reaching pretty much universal acclaim as a half of Dadub, sailed off as Inner8—an alias he picked for his solo project, and whose sound directions are about as easy to predict as it is to maintain a radio-controlled yacht above water at the peak of a rough tempest, while having no remote to stir with. Nautical metaphors aside, it's simply exciting to watch what comes out at the other side of an equation when these sorts of variables are presented.

    Opener Semeion runs at breathtaking 192 BPM, impetuously engaging unevenly-, but frequently-striking, bass-accentuated kicks, as well as madly speeding and stuttering, thinly-shaped hats, discharges of sizzling electricity, blissful pads that with the angels' finesse flit from one channel to another, and dense as a heated tar, tangible ambiance, which, had it been a field recording, could only have been taken out of a purely entropic environment—an epicenter of a black hole no less; despite a seeming impossibility to calculate time signatures, the inner sense of pace will never fail to suggest just when to move so as to stay in accord with the track's exceedingly complex, but easily percievable rhythm(s). Paced at 101 rather than 202 BPM, the follower RSA Equals ISAs finds peace with a more measured approach, as widely reverberating toms intercommunicate with their smaller, quieter siblings that pulsate at a distance to their own amusement, while another layer of tightly-strung, shamanic drums tries to overthrow the dominance of low range by introducing a bit of distortion higher up, effectively shifting the attention to itself in its most unbound moments; a looming field of calmly resonating drones, often complemented by stretched-out pads, provides a meditative backdrop to the scene, neither obstructing the act at front nor disturbing the ear. While Death Of The Eternal Man easily could have had two times higher a tempo, its plodding kicks are set to 81 BPM, and that factor clearly makes them eager to break through this limit, which they exhibit on few occasions by giving out two quick strikes where otherwise they would only hit once; in this attempt to reach a higher velocity they are aided by metallic drops and synthetic chirps that run at double speed, almost drowning in surroundings that resemble processed recordings taken from a particularly thick rainforest, at a time when downpour feels as if skies turned into an bottomless ocean and started falling down. The conclusive piece Anti Humanism slams on the breaks—a second too late, and as we fall through the windshield in slow motion, the only thing that could be made out is oddly soothing streams of subtle, frozen droning (auditory hallucinations caused by the preceding concussion?) and shards of glass grazing against each other softly; thus, it would be best to close the eyes, to stay in the moment until the time runs out and silence takes over, putting a definitive end to this fleeting moment.

Release Type: EP

Release Date: 26 June 2017

Release Format: Digital • Vinyl

Record Label • Catalog: In Silent Series • ISS002

Purchase Links: Beatport • Junodownload • Bandcamp • Ready made