Depending upon how you look at it, giving your album the somewhat stark title of 2007 is either a move borne of stunning hubris, or alternately, comparative understatement. Given the overriding balance of subtlety on display throughout this latest album from Detroit wunderkind Matthew Dear under his minimal techno-inclined False alias for Richie Hawtin’s much-lauded M_nus label, I’m more inclined to think it’s the latter in this case. His first False album collection since 2003′ self-titled debut on Plus 8, 2007 has Dear attempting to “define his relationship with M_nus”, with a continuously flowing 14 track, 60 minute long selection designed to act as “a special one-off live set.” Like Dear’s Fabric mix session of last year as Audion, while 2007 certainly represents the aspect of his oeuvre most likely to appeal most to the “core’ minimal techno crowd, he’ managed to pack this album with enough visceral energy and attention to dancefloor dynamics to tempt in those often turned off by the comparative inaccessibility of the minimal techno scene.
Indeed, 2007 sees Dear expertly winding up the rhythmic tension like a rubber band over this set’s entire duration. While opening track “Indy 3000′ starts proceedings with a whirling, sandstorm-esque wall of white noise that gradually resolves itself into the passing roar of high-performance race cars, the familiar pulse of precision kickdrums soon locks in, as “Meet Me In The Markt’s sharp-focus, clicking rhythms arrive to drag things out of the darkness. Throughout, the rhythmic emphasis frequently falls more upon the bass grooves that occupy the space between beats, rather than on the kickdrums per se; “Warm Co.’ gliding fusion of lurking sub-bass tones and spinning android bleeps providing a perfect demonstration, before “Timing’ sees rattling electronic textures relentlessly infiltrate and then take over the entire mix. By the time recent 12 inch “Face The Rain’ eerily atmospheric blend of ominously cycling electronic tones and jacking tech-house rhythms enters the equation, Dear’s already gradually taken insidious control of the listener’ metabolism, with no hint of giving up until the disc’s closing snare hit.
Chris Downton
