Analogs: Andy Stott – Luxury Problems

In Analogs, we’ll be taking a look at two records that share some interesting parallels to an album out that week. Whether it be an album from 50 years back that bears some quiet influence, or an under-appreciated record from last week, if you like the record in question, you’re sure to like its Analogs.


This week we’re looking at analogs to Andy Stott’s Luxury Problems. Be sure to check out our review.


 

Philip Jeck – Stoke

I have a friend who likes to refer to Andy Stott’s most recent material as “if Philip Jeck went techno.” He’d be the first to admit it’s ultimately a little reductive, but there’s something to the comparison. There’s something kind of exciting about it too. Jeck is an experimental turntablist who creates gigantic, overlapping ambient and drone collages using nothing but looped vinyl and the results often strike a simliar chord as Stott’s ultra compressed, iron lung synth rotations and growling machine bellows. There’s analog density and animal tenacity to both men’s work as well. As if the whole malaise were carved out of rock and metal and savaged carcasses. Stokeis perhaps Jeck’s most dynamic release. With the impenetrable, rough-hewn “Above” and the mournfully decayed “Lambing,” you can almost imagine these sprawling masses being crushed beneath Stott’s relentless, meaty kicks. I should also mention “Pax,” in which Jeck sets up, maybe, ten turntables in one room and has them loop the same dusty, echoing soul sample, just a vocal and an organ, at different speeds to create a tear-worthy, ambient ballad. It’s incredible and beautiful, and worth the price of admission alone, even if it’s the least helpful in making my case.


 

Claro Intelecto – Reform Club

Claro Intelecto and Andy Stott were both golden boys of the Modern Love of old (they even collaborated a few times). But a lot has changed in the past couple years – Stott helped reinvent the English techno label and Mark Stewart moved to Dutch imprint, Delsin. Ironically, Stewart’s first release for Delsin, “Second Blood,” sounded an awful lot like Stott’s work on Passed Me By and We Stay Together. Reform Club, Stewart’s first full-length in four years, extends from a similar place, but where Stott is subterranean, claustrophobic, and rough, Claro Intelecto is weightless, expansive, and gentle. Reform Club is pieced together with quivering dub chords, runny synth melodies, and flighty string samples and it’s gorgeous. Both records share a touch of UK garage and house as well. Dub techno was on the rocks before Stott’s work last year, and with Reform Club, Claro Intelecto follows suit in reanimating its corpse with something vital and unique.