The Rubber Room column is a weekly look at recent and notable releases that don’t fall into the rubric of traditional reviewed material—namely 7”’s, 12”’s, 3” CDs, EPs, cassette-only, DVDs and MP3-only releases.

Menu:Exit
Vool
[Underscan, 2004]

Following upon the 2001 Profiles EP, the superb Vool finds Menu:Exit (Underscan founders Markward Wagner and Ralf Pytlik) deservedly joining the front ranks of a revitalized IDM wave. The incredible title track opens with a mournful see-sawing theme overlaid by scratchy funk beats but, just as you’re settling in to the dreamy groove, the song flips inside out, reconfigured by a snapping, breakbeat-tinged rhythm; then, even more surprisingly, everything drops out, replaced by strummed flamenco guitars before the song’s glistening sparkle returns. The EP also showcases crunchy funk in “Cherlisc” and skipping sway in the dramatic “Iyf” before “Linger” chills the mood ever-so-sweetly, providing a graceful and elegant exit. With Vool, Menu:Exit brings fresh energy and imagination to a genre once prematurely written off by some as thoroughly played out.
[Ron Schepper]

Accelera Deck
Sunstrings
[Scarcelight, 2004]

With three pieces totaling thirty-three minutes plus a fifteen-minute hidden track, Chris Jeely’s 2004 Sunstrings ‘EP’ seems an oddity even before a note sounds. Using guitar, oscillator, and computer, Jeely generates a corrosive roar in the seventeen-minute opener “Dross,” yet its crushing arsenal of noise is amazing if not necessarily pleasant. This writhing excursion fractures into prickly caterwauls of abrasive splatter, grinding glissandi, and thorny swarms—the sonic portrait of a machine writhing in pain as it’s torn to pieces. Coming after “Dross,” the cresting waves and ringing overtones of the fifteen-minute drone “Sunstrings” sound downright musical. At less than a minute, “777” is little more than a few scattered bleeps, while a hidden track presents scattered flickers of rustles and scrapes that gradually coalesce into overlapping babble.
[Ron Schepper]

Onethema
Sticks For Bits EP
[Underscan, 2004]

Apparently Simon Petre (aka Onethema) studies anthropology at Goldsmith’s University in London when he’s not trolling the internet for free synthesis software and assembling sounds into random compositions. Petre embraces experiment and accident as key catalysts in the development of his sonic mutations, four of which are heard on Sticks For Bits. Certainly the standard arsenal of electronic sounds is here—prickly static emissions, morphing splatter, scratchy beats—but, reminiscent of Confield in general style as well as fractured spirit, the pieces seldom cohere into distinguished compositions. They meander, much like wayward electronic jams, and, not surprisingly, Onethema’s music impresses most (the delicate “Windon,” for example, with its melancholy keyboard melody and clattering rhythms) when it emphasizes memorable melodies and clearly defined compositional structures.
[Ron Schepper]

EBSK
Secret Highways/Wobbly
[Scarcelight, 2004]

In contrast to the ear-splitting experimentalism of other Scarcelight releases, this fifteen-minute 3-incher from Washington’s EBSK—the name derived from bassist Eric Bruns’ initials and the Casio sk1 and sk5 utilized by drummer John Rickman—showcases the label’s more accessible side. As the aggressive mix of charging bass and drum clatter in “Wobbly” illustrates, EBSK’s sound inhabits an inspired interzone where lo-fi electronica, kraut-, prog- and post-rock intersect. Opening with a grinding, snorting machine shuffle, “Secret Highways” is even better, its spiky bass lines propelling it into crunching Crimsonesque territory before a bright theme breaks through the smears and static to leaven the mood.
[Ron Schepper]

Rod
All My Love
[Underscan / Front End Synthetics, 2004]

How to rise above the electronic rank and file? If you’re Rodd Morris, compose a tune as bewitching as “All My Love,” that’s how, and then have Front End Synthetics’ Spectac (Paul Morrin) contribute a splendid remix for an encore. Morris’s divine original opens promisingly enough—languid bass lines joined by laid-back beats and sparse Rhodes chords kissed by a nautical ping—but then a supplicating, Sigur Rós-like voice enters to give the song a soul-stirring punch, an impact subtly intensified by church organ tones. Elsewhere, Spectac gives the song an electro-noir makeover with stoked beats rattling viperously and peppered by chopped voices, Morris envelops laconically chugging hip-hop beats with melodic sparkle on the dreamy “Kalico,” and “Nova Scotia” spreads its percolating groove across ten head-nodding minutes. Still, the brightest star remains the seductive opener.
[Ron Schepper]