Compilation Review: ‘Get Lost 5, mixed by Acid Pauli’ (Crosstown Rebels)


His house music spun by candlelight with a faint and quirky glow, Acid Pauli is playing for a select band of trusted followers — a few more than a back to mine, but not by much, with everything cosily cocooned in a cave-turned-club. Crucially not fading into the pallid or the muted, augmented by a sense of the noble (Kadebostan), the sultry (Raz Ohara) and the not-of-this-world (the Speak n Spell guesting on Normal Brain’s “M-U-S-I-C”), Martin Gretschmann is resident DJ to a secret society and faraway place that takes two discs, two and a half hours and a secret middle compartment to get to. Oddballs from Nicolas Jaar and the slightly creepy Jan Turkenburg, where Pauli flies closer to the sun, make nice with Move D’s lounge groove and Pauli’s own “Farewell Fred” offering sounds coming in from the cold.

Disc two carries on with the stylish, tribally-attuned modesty, broadening the mix’s weight with Pauli & Nannue Tipitier trying to swell its band of followers who have hung on his every beat so far. It does edge towards regular deep house dalliances in the dark, with the greater shimmies of Kabale Und Liebe and Tempo Di Roma discovering an ass-to-shake ratio. Intercepted by the steel drums of Taron Trekka and the reassurances of Calico Horse, Francesca Lombardo and The Band That Never Met, the candles begin to flicker this way and that, but never go out.

File under: NU, dOP, Console

Album Review: Acid Pauli / ‘Mst’ (Clown & Sunset)


Martin Gretschmann has an idea about what happiness feels like, but sometimes displaying dejection comes easier. The veteran producer takes pleasure from a strange but true opening of free form folk mixed with chugging deep house creating a dance floor expo where you can see all the parts, pistons and mechanisms of Mst pulling together in time. It’s a set up, fully extended on “A Clone is a Clone,” that wants to be recognized as a feat of organic engineering rather than something that’s fun to look at and listen to. As if too tired to entertain, “Palomitastep” trundles along and “Equation of Time” labors with a dubby head, like the springs to the jazz clockwork have worn down to erratic levels of Gotye-like performance.

It makes for fascination as to why Acid Pauli sounds so phlegmatic. “Eulogy to Eunice” weeps over ivories, presumably for a lost loved one or freshly dissolved relationship mentioned in the title, and though “Requiem for a Loop” raises a smile when sat at the same piano as Pauli opens and loosens up a little more, the glee is scuppered by the attention span of “Mutron Melody” randomly fiddling with the pitch control. Whether indiscriminate or complicated, Gretschmann working away in a small cut off shack illogically creates budding rhythms, and forms a knack for dancing in confined and cramped isolation.
File under: Console, Nicolas Jaar, Nôze