Review Resident Advisor: Can Adam X ever just be Adam X again? In the aftermath of the enormous success of Traversable Wormhole—both in its original, anonymous incarnation and its reissue series on CLR—it seems the answer is no. The Berlin producer's music appears to have been permanently affected by his flirtation with the Berghain-inspired dance floor sounds. With the exception of a collaborative EP with like-minded techno primitives Ancient Methods,... more...

Review Resident Advisor: Can Adam X ever just be Adam X again? In the aftermath of the enormous success of Traversable Wormhole—both in its original, anonymous incarnation and its reissue series on CLR—it seems the answer is no. The Berlin producer's music appears to have been permanently affected by his flirtation with the Berghain-inspired dance floor sounds. With the exception of a collaborative EP with like-minded techno primitives Ancient Methods, Outflow Boundary is Adam X's first "Adam X" release since the opening of the Wormhole, and also his first for Prologue. As such, it carries a bit of baggage, but it does so with utmost style and stride.

It's not as if the man has completely reinvented his style: there are sonic tics that hint back towards his more industrial work, but there are also plenty that seem indebted to Traversable Wormhole. Both tracks are sprawling and reduced, taking their time unfolding themselves in a determined straight line (like much of the Prologue catalogue); and like Traversable Wormhole, they consist of hovering elements that seem to circle around the song's core instead of merely fading in and out of the mix. "Downbursts" starts with the basics, a clicking kick that quickly begins to stir up a dust storm of pinging chords and ominous drones until elements begin to blur. It's messier and more abrasive than any of the Wormhole tracks—that's where the Adam X name comes in—but its comparatively limber functionality seems a far cry from the distorted and static-coated screams of his previous album State of Limbo. The flipside, "Wind Shear Detection" confirms the lingering influence of the Berghain, pairing Klock-style industrial shudders and whooshes with X's own characteristic metallic snares and militant programming. It seems as if through the Wormhole project, Mr. X has rediscovered subtlety: and while he's not about to go all STL on us, it's already proving a good look for him. less

Review Resident Advisor: Munich's Prologue Recordings label has become one of the most understatedly refined disseminators of a strain of techno that's growing more popular seemingly by the minute. The recent Cio D'or Resident Advisor podcast is an excellent mascot for this kinda-sorta-movement, concerned as much with bewitching sound design as anything else.

Long enamored with the darker, more surrealist end of techno, tracks on Prologue tend to be sparse and... more...

Review Resident Advisor: Munich's Prologue Recordings label has become one of the most understatedly refined disseminators of a strain of techno that's growing more popular seemingly by the minute. The recent Cio D'or Resident Advisor podcast is an excellent mascot for this kinda-sorta-movement, concerned as much with bewitching sound design as anything else.

Long enamored with the darker, more surrealist end of techno, tracks on Prologue tend to be sparse and minimal (the good kind). With spooky and tense atmospheres that stretch out and unfold over ten minutes, each track is a journey in itself. On his second release for the label, Light Echo, Japanese producer Iori dabbles in the more ambient end of Prologue's imagined stylebook. "Spiral" is almost like a characteristic Prologue take on Aphex Twin's most comforting early compositions: think Donato Dozzy stuck inside of Selected Ambient Works 85-92. The decaying ambient wash gives way to under-the-surface tribal thrumming, which continues unabated through the several layers of dry ice haze and clouds of intoxicating detritus that floats by during the track's gorgeous ten minutes.

"Time Hole" probes darker realities, it central riff grinding on its own axis with little variation outside of the silvery sparks that shoot out of unseen corners. However, it's the title track that hews closest to Iori's greatest talent—check his "Spaciotemporal" white label on Phonica for another fine example—that is, packing this vast ambient expanse of dread, tension and sensuality into sharply-focused beats. On "Light Echo," percussive synths vibrate internally, their invisible but palpable motion intensifying into a concentrated sheet of simultaneous unnatural movements, the frantic shaking like planetary orbits forced into tiny straight lines. If Iori's got the power to move heavenly bodies, imagine what these tracks could to do a dance floor. less