One thing is similar though, I think, and that’s that everyone has a natural rhythm and way they like to move and it’s quite difficult (and usually not all that enjoyable) to deviate too far from it. Recloose, then, is a bit of a specialist taste. If you’re into foursquare pump-pump-pump until climax, his kind of scribbly meandering isn’t going to get you very aroused.
If on the other hand you’re a double sideways swoop kind of person, ‘Maui’s Lament’ will be right up your er…something. Deceptively housey at the start with a kick-snare pattern and twinkly keys, Recloose soon overlays the odd ‘broken’ beat on the basic rhythm and lets loose one of those stuttering jerky basslines that’s somewhere between funky and glitchy. This will layer beautifully in the mix with more standard house fare, but will sound completely different once it gets going and make about ten percent of most club crowds spastically ecstatic. And just to geek out for a second, the kick-snare here is PERFECT—with just the right smidgin of offset to make it irresistible. A classic Recloose production basically.
‘Walk in Turquoise’ is more lumpen in comparison—a heavy beat and more of a techno feel albeit at a slower tempo. It’s a slow builder with sampled shouts and cut up tribal chants over a rhythm that wants to be simultaneously steady and erratic with a tension between the heavy kicks and the odd partial drum roll. But there’s a hell of a lot of depth here. It sits right on the line between sounds and rhythms being unexpected, but also being in exactly the right place as soon as you hear them. It’s not an obvious anthem, but at the right time once people have attuned themselves to the music, this would be amazing.
Overall, this is a fantastic release with Recloose toning down those broken beat influences a little to fit in with Rush Hour’s aesthetic, but still delivering a delightfully tricksy musical experience. And, despite the analogy, probably best listened to in the club, not the bedroom.