Tough metallic grooves and demented robot vibes from Canadian producer David Psutka
Egyptrixx is David Psutka, a Toronto-based electronic music producer who’s already carved a serious name for himself in both experimental and techno fields under the aliases Hiawatha and Anamai. But it’s as Egyptrixx that he really comes to the fore, having set a major marker with 2011’s ‘Bible Eyes’, an album stuffed with fuzzing beats, found sounds and dystopian distractions.
‘Transfer Of Energy (Feelings Of Power)’ delivers another dose of dissonant electronics, only more so. ‘Halocline Trance’ – also the name of Psutka’s new label – starts the album with a whoosh of Numan-esque nostalgic keyboarding but undercut with a massive bass drop that screams 21st century, before segueing into the title cut and running further with the demented robot vibe. It sounds both analogue and digital, often at the same time. Old and new, slow and fast, light and shade. This is what it means to be Egyptrixx.
‘Body II Body’ follows and is really a double header; Nyssa’s ambient vocals sound curiously alien in the moody ambient opening minutes until the beats come into earshot, like a carjacking set to music and the sort of rhythm you’d hear Richie Hawtin going doolally for. ‘Discipline 1982’ meanwhile continues the deep bass love-in before climaxing with a machine gun bpm attack that’s part computer game and part Terminator.
As the album ebbs and flows, you’re always aware of a strong appreciation for melody and rhythm. As experimental as the tracks are, this isn’t the sound of a knackered old washing machine being kicked down the stairs with the “record” button pressed. ‘Mirror Etched On Shards Of Amethyst’ begins with something resembling a malfunctioning hoover (or is it a sanding machine?), but soon dissolves into a pool of big, lush chords, like Moby slowed down to 33rpm (note to kids: ask your dad what revolutions per minute are).
‘Not Vital’ mines a darker vein, where the beats buzz like static and the synths oscillate like alien transmissions; fine fare for sure, although it wouldn’t be recommended listening if you were suffering from a particularly intensive bout of future shock. And if you’ve made it thus far, then the closing ‘Conduit (Repo)’ will dump you straight back on the dancefloor, building a tough metallic groove before fading out to a mirage of deep space washes and the sound of letting go. Prepare to be rinsed out.