But it also stands to reason that this same mentality is exactly why his music is so good. Talented folk tend to only be talented in a few areas. And, for musicians, that usually doesn't include business. Most businessmen, for instance, don't put together six songs that last more than ten minutes each that float along in the same way that Harmonia 76 does, the house beat ever-present but somehow incidental to everything else that goes on around it. "Evar" seems to wonder why it's there in the first place amid bird calls, a melancholy bassline and a snippet of jazz piano. Even when the beat is at its toughest, on "Sad and Sand" and "Astral," the propulsive click and clack that pushes it along seems far more important to Inspirescu.
"Dezlegat La Capat" bubbles urgently while Inspirescu tinkles piano on top and then sets down to the business of plunking contemplative chord after contemplative chord in what becomes a stunning DJ tool. "Actiune!" meanwhile, uses brass licks and someone hitting a spoon against a lake for minutes on end as the basis for its heady adventure. Ricardo Villalobos, an obvious reference point for Inspirescu's minimal house, said in an interview on RA last year that a cabal of producers—Zip, the [a:rpia:r] crew, Melchior—all share music with one another that hasn't been released, tunes that often result in those WTF dance floor moments that crowds seem to have on a regular basis during their sets. The tracks only get released when they have to be released, when the clamor is too much for them to remain in the vaults. Intr-o Seara Organica... is full of them.