Review Summary: Suspended glance of an unblinking eye
Set out in the simplest terms, Terrence Dixon’s
From the Far Future Pt. 2 reads like magnetic eye-contact.
Melody is often woozy, sidelong, or even brazenly discordant, but all the more hypnotic for it. ‘Vision Blurry’ enters with a warped and nagging refrain, eddying nervously over a soft kick for several minutes. Just as the chromatic tone begins to grate, a new melody swells to wash it away in synthesized rivulets – dripping and pooling around the beat like water down stalactites – and the relief is so glorious as to be physically palpable. This alluring commitment to tension is what defines
Pt. 2’s minimal flair. Many of Dixon’s tracks induce an addictive discomfort (the inebriated lunge of ‘The Switch’ or the uneasy glitter of ‘The Study’), knocking you off kilter just enough to reset you with the sharp tap of some hi-hats or the fleeting resolution of a chord.
Others just pin you down. ‘The Auto Factory’ is pure Detroit techno, muscle and strut undercut by the descending wail of extra-terrestrial frequencies. Hot on its heels, ‘Lead by Example’ flashes in with stabs of synthesizer, only to stretch into a crepuscular ostinato like an unbroken stare. The kick slides in and out with little fanfare. No hats, no claps.
To be clear: vintage equipment makes the music minimal, but what makes it Dixon’s is an economy of focus. Immutable features of techno are glancing here. Percussion is deft and unobtrusive, and bass never rises beyond a subordinate pulse. In the periphery of each dazzling melody, these elements are merely small grounding touches to anchor the attention.
‘Dark City of Hope’ is a stunning illustration. The track hums atop a simple two-note melody, its backbeat a blinking chord, and Dixon guides our attention over every subtle shade of it. Watch how it ripples these warped and aimless tones. Glimpse these hi-hats – rustling in, then out, then in – and feel the ‘City’ sway against them. Concentrate it down, down to its warmest core. Swirl it all back up, and see every piece of the whole in vibrant motion.
And that’s the optical alchemy of Terrence Dixon. He bends all this abstraction, simplicity, and discord into music that demands movement. It’s
moving. Nod along by the light of your laptop or let it drive your feet across the blacktop. Its drums may be muted and its rhythms discreet, but
From the Far Future Pt. 2 represents a vivid renewal of Detroit’s tradition in beautiful dance music.
