from Knid Times:
Super_Collider - Raw Digits (Rise Robots Rise LP/CD)
This is not a comfortable listen. That's not to say that it's noisy or spikey or clever-clever or any of those boysy things that underground electronica can veer towards; it's a deeply funky and sexed-up thing, kind of like Beck's midnight vultures would be if it wasn't so knock-kneed and self-conscious. It's just that this freaky brew of swampy dubwise post-Timbaland beats, microedited bubbles and squeaks and downright filthy gospel blues vocals sucks you into to an unfamiliar dark and moist world where nothing functions as it should.
Raw Digits will be a shock to the 15 people who heard Super_Collider's debut album Head_On. No big riffs, snarling upfront techno basslines or chanted P-Funk choruses here: instead brooding moodiness reigns supreme; the sound is dreamlike, aquatic, twistedly womby. To be sure, there are funk melody lines here (including the keyboards of Matthew Herbert, and gentle swipes of live guitar), but each part holds it down, giving the whole a real throbbing pressure, releasing only occasionally in needle-fine synthesised sprays or when Jamie Lidell's vocals let loose into zero-gravity gymnastics.
Every track here is endlessly intricate and painstakingly arranged, but nothing sounds forced: it is the sound of a band maturing into their own sound. Though new sounds and rhythms appear in every bar, nothing is there for show, and the sound is utterly coherent. Like Tricky's Maxinquaye, without the unremitting oppressiveness, this is an album out on its own, making a mockery of genre-hugging stick-in-the-muds. If the whims of the music market do not make it massive now, I can guarantee that its influence will be felt a long time into the future.