Previously a crate digger’s wet dream, The Paperclip People‘s only album, 1996’s ‘The Secret Tapes Of Doctor Eich‘, was given a re-release in 2012.
So what? Well, arguably it was significant because the awkward name was short hand for none other than Carl Craig, techno auteur and a central figure in the evangelisation process that transformed its cachet from nano to macro.
Like many early examples of the electronic artist/producer branching out into long players, ‘…Eich’ was part compilation, as was his outing the year before under the 69 banner on ‘The Sound of Music‘.
There, though, all similarities ended.
Whereas that had a more structured, robotic Low Countries ennui and backwards looking feel, everything here was warmer, but a long way from the progressive house and early two-step which were the flavours of the era. On ‘Oscillator‘ Craig floated woozy, acid dots and flourishes and hitched them to an insanely mind worming cowbell effect. With ‘Throw‘ he percolated never ending hi-hats, looped funk riffs and a cracked out Diva on the verge of losing it, whilst ‘The Floor’ sounded like Angelo Badalamenti upside down in a broken sequencer. In short, it was immense, because not in spite of being only narrowly connected to the Zeitgeist of the era.
You may ask what this has to do with Letherette, a camera shy duo from Wolverhampton who’ve been gradually building a profile via remixes for amongst others Bibio and Machinedrum, as well as winning hearts and minds via an eclectic mix for BTS Radio.
The simple answer is that with their willingness to experiment they appropriate anything they want from almost anywhere in a widescreen musical giganticum, doing much the same as Carl Craig did on ‘…Eich’; fucks not being given for the rules, but playing for keeps at the same time.
Got that? ‘Featurette‘ is their début EP for Ninja Tune, and the taste makers once again prove that they’ve never set so much as a toe on the wrong side of the bogus line by bringing us Letherette’s presence in all its shiny 4D brilliance.
Opener ‘Warstones‘ re-imagines Daft Punk as late nighters, throwing funky platters out and yipping all the way, whereas ‘Surface‘ takes a trip to the bittersweet, mutha’d r&b of Abel Tesfaye, the words, “The dice are rolled forever”, spelling out bleakness and chance in equal measure.
Probably better titled ‘Four Tracks Of Completely Different Shit’, ‘Featurette’ whets the appetite, courts low attention spans and also lures in beardy, big specs wearing purists. ‘Etterwards‘ sounds like a funk workout from the Larry Blackmon era, except with all the samples laid out in a lines of back door coke, chopping, chopping, chopping.
The closer in this Triptych plus one Wecko is something else, a dreamy/nightmare hallucination of what it must be like to be stranded in a broken 8-bit toy museum, with a laconic break and cheesy piano vibe that leaves you lost in the scare fest with a tall one and pair of scare protecting shades. Like its three companions, it’ll flip you. It’ll flip you for real.
Carl C should be tuning in soon.