Daniel Avery - Drone Logic

DASHING THROUGH COLD CORRIDORS, HOTFOOT & INSATIABLE

Concrete rush. That's how I best describe the sound of Daniel Avery's Drone Logic. A mass of impenetrable, calcified rubble pressing onwards. Like a lava flow interrupting anything in its wake. Despite the lengthy duration (what else would you expect from a genre that, as its name declares, merges Techno with House), there's a staggering level of variational texture that affects not only the soundscapes, but the situational tonality on each respective track. 'Water Jump' sounds off like a waterspout to the sky, while 'Platform Zero' transmits the isolation of a space station to its Earth-bound creators. 'These Nights Never End' thrusts like bodies moshing in urban alleyways, while 'Need Electric' pricks synthetic needles up and down the spine. Yet it all returns to the core. Densely compact, like a black hole collapsing in on itself. A righteous depiction of Tech House.

Drone Logic is an album of refinement, not creativity. It doesn't break barriers, parlaying with the crisp, nocturnal reticence prominent in early 2010's Electronic (see: Burial, Jon Hopkins, Pantha Du Prince, etc.), however the futurism is there and axiomatic. Whether it's 'Naive Response' which evokes the coming of Kelly Lee Owens and her brand of aerated tactility with sensual whispers and gassy synthesizers, or 'Knowing We'll Be Here' and its party-time mollify that ratchets up the nostalgia imbued by Jamie Xx, it's clear Avery's work on Drone Logic can stand the test of time. This, even with a particularly grim middle portion that stretches from 'Platform Zero' to 'Simulrec.' The interludes are forgivable, but 'All I Need' and 'Simulrec' are dire dead zones lacking vitality that serve no purpose but to protract an already-diffused album. Thankfully, 'New Energy' does as its name implies and galvanizes, similarly to The Chemical Brothers when their Big Beat ran sour. It levitates above weightless clouds, paced with expeditious equanimity, expanding with noisy guitars and undulating synthesizers. Reminiscent of Orbital's grand 'Belfast.'

If not for 'Drone Logic,' which composes all of Avery's best elements, 'New Energy' would take best song honors with ease. The title track, fluid and constantly entertaining new ideas, hustles around fractious percussion that shifts the tempo steadily around periodic build-ups. The sultry vocalist, a rare sight in the ether, provides a mark to impress. Like a model darting around cold, rigid hallway corners in her sparkling red dress. The occasional glimmer electrifies, providing the beat with its determined grimace. Drone Logic lives within these zones, each track providing a candid snapshot of illuminating imagery, stitched together with Dance music's endless continuation.