Compilation Review: ‘This Is How We Roll’ (Keysound Recordings)

This Is How We Roll Keysound Recordings


From being steamrollered into submission by Keysound’s extra long collusion Keepers of the Light, last year’s forbidden family of dubstep shamen who burrowed further and further into bass recesses until it had to start digging up to see daylight again, This is How We Roll ripostes. Not coming up for air anytime soon either, 14 tracks snatch the incentive of leaving soundsystems and civilisations crumbling, in a rally of blade sharpening, buzzsaw ducking (Mumdance & Logos’ “In Reverse”), sludge-caked, Molotov sipping eliminators.

Dead of night techno mutants lie in wait, searing the sky with a string of bass torpedoes – bro-step, be gone, and post-dubstep, with Moleskin unable to tilt the balance all by himself, is vanquished by rat-a-tat aggressors. These are the dark arts spelt out and spilt by rebel, win-at-any-cost droids who also preach the eerily dogmatic, writing an urban grime-gothic that will hunt you down, even if their bulk seems against them.

The same old story? Though unrepentant, there’s a swagger able to make moves like a mega-weight gentleman thief. Authentic dub samples are hauled into the firing line (Samrai’s “Hear Me Now”), as spots of mischief try and distract you while grunting bass keeps lookout (Visionist’s rascal strings rifling through “Dangerous”). Electro clarification flows from E.m.m.a.’s “Peridot” and Fresh Paul’s “Blaster” smashes planets together while an orchestra chronicles the magnitude. Most of all, it’s a really easy collection to get into, providing instant rushes and razes.

File under: LHF, Chestplate, Tectonic

Compilation Review: ‘Rita Maia presents Sine of the Times’ (Badmood)

Rita Maia presents Sine of the Times


Putting on post-dubstep with two-step observance, Rita Maia’s sine language is all about the breathy that puts its back into it, and the heaviest of fine mists and light drizzle darting down until skin is soaked. While the umbrella is up, the watery effect flows through My Panda Shall Fly’s garage/techno tightening together “Kandy”. A simple case of bass collation and correlation, picked by a Portuguese spinner extending a choice radio show by casting a worldwide eye over mature low frequencies.

A tribal intervention apiece from Bongos Ikwue remixed by Simbad and BD1982’s “The Wave Chamber” opens up the premise, coloring the wispy grays and off-whites with rangy maximalist synths without straying from the dignified. An eleventh hour riposte has the all-out rave outburst of NKC’s “Fading Floor” wilding out when slipping into a pair of white gloves, and the lethal sniping of Visionist sounds killer, unfortunately not giving itself time to really impose itself. Otherwise the compilation sticks to standards in being toughly elegant and smoothing out the knife edge it balances upon (VVV’s “Lost and Found”). Nothing especially jumps out and declares revolution, maybe because of its all-in-together overview (which itself shows a bass as universal language motif), but it’s an assured and concise collection holding the line, and everything you could ask for when it comes to coverage of bass forms for all weathers.

File under: Badmood Collective, LV, Diskotopia