With his spacey atmospheres, flurries of hi-hats and alternately liquid or chattering chords, Laux sounds like a Detroit classicist, albeit one who underpins his tracks with techniques borrowed from electronic pop. His low-end consists of fast-paced, highly melodic, blanketed bass patterns and muffled kicks that you could call dub techno, but that are more reminiscent of The Knife. Fernweh's title track, which features a lovely wandering melody, could be an instrumental from Silent Shout.
To say all of this lacks character wouldn't exactly be true. With its swooping, dive-bombing synths, you could imagine the doomy, cavernous "Hexagon" providing a moment of contemplative drama in a Dettmann set. Propelled along on a fuzzy, bobbling bassline and interrupted by clanging synths, "There There," like the beatless "Shimmer," has a certain charisma. Overall, though, Fernweh, is too laidback, too stylishly streamlined. It's like an Eames chair: beautifully designed, built by a craftsman, hugely comfortable. But it doesn't go any deeper than that. It doesn't move you or startle you in any significant way.