Review Summary: Pensive modular synths from Detroit's underground
The Detroit techno scene is like a self-sustainable township, continuously evolving on its own precedents. Certain albums feel as much like city blueprints as they do digestible pieces of music, and
Chris Randall’s third solo EP,
Oscillator Breach, certainly has that feel, while still feeling reflective and personal. At times, he comes off as an architect who scribbles fleeting thoughts on the same drafting paper used for complex structural designs. The potential pleasure in deciphering Randall’s patterns might be comparable to what many enjoy about unravelling
Autechre: reevaluating what constitutes humanity in even the unlikeliest places. What’s perhaps most interesting is how this revelation might come about, given Randall’s background - stemming from industrial rock with
Sister Machine Gun, and even his comparably recent solo material of the blues persuasion (2007’s
The Devil His Due).
Oscillator Breach has its share of immediate grooves, but is overarched by Randall’s pensiveness. Opener “drt_895r” has a firm, catchy base layer, but thins out into pitters of ambience and patters of synths; however, producers
Proem and
Corbin Davis both have remixes included with the album which are more interesting in flavour, the former being a smorgasbord of synths and rhythm, the latter having an addictive pulse. We see a similar issue with “mitte”, where the remixed versions are ultimately more attention grabbing (in this case, producers
Qebo and
Baseck do some rewiring). Stacking his work against more in-their-element producers is appreciated, but reveals Randall to be a work in progress stylistically - suitable to
Oscillator Breach’s motif, in all fairness. Things take form after “mitte”, as “seven” and “oblique” are believable odes to the night. “oblique” is an EP standout, despite being pretty dialled down, with the most submersing vibe - the kind that reduces a high-speed car ride to a psychedelic crawl. “concentr8” probably bears the most industrial influence, with a mechanical crunch and the percussive frenzy of a factory disco. Closer “stylus” is, fittingly, the best summation of
Oscillator Breach’s mentality. It’s detailed, fine-tuned, and sees a balance of musical focus and psychological tugs. We get a sense of a thoughtful outlier, just on the observational outskirts of nightlife, being pulled in. Despite orchestrating his own little corner of the city’s infrastructure, it’s inevitable that Chris Randall surrenders to the night.
