Swedish electro-industrial duo Interdictor may not be the most productive act, having released just four EPs over the past ten years, but the fifth in that series, Wallflower, is a nice reminder of how the band prioritizes quality over quantity. The grand, declarative stomp of lead track “Shadowlands” is not massively different from that of a number of club-focused Euro acts from the past twenty years, but it’s the little production details (the patinas of static, the tight-wire harmonic pads) that Interdictor remind us of why this style became such an enduring one. Later, the combination of the submerged groove of “Proslytize” and its classically chilly lead programming forsakes down-the-pipe club appeal but nails the atmospheric appeal of hi-def dark electro, the likes of which we rarely hear these days. Wallflower is clearly intended for existing aficionados of a certain intersection of sounds and genres, but after so many years of diminishing returns in that area, it’s refreshing to hear this style pulled off with such acumen and taste.
Local Suicide & Curses
A team-up between Local Suicide and Curses is a pretty natural one; both Berlin based acts work in a broad mixture of styles that integrate darkwave, post-punk, with a dash of italo boogie and giallo atmosphere for seasoning. Thus the music on new collaborative EP Magia feels like it fits equally into each band’s recent discography without much effort, which is not to say that the charms of each act are lost in the sauce. The shuffling rhythm and hypnotically sequenced groove of “It All Sounds the Same” read as Local Suicide, even before the vocals and bass guitar accents seal it in, although you can hear Curses penchant for horror movie texture lurking in the organs and samples that creep their way over its length. Similarly, “Secret Friends” has a lot of the simmering tension that informs Curses’ productions conveyed through its squelchy acid lines and rising synths, while the amusing if slightly off-kilter vocal that pops up midway through has Local Suicide’s wry sensibility to it. Whether any of those elements noted actually originate with the artists in question is kind of immaterial, the partnership is organic enough that a listener can be carried along without feeling the need to trainspot; the visit to the undead disco via wiggly minor key analogue synths and rock solid mid-tempo drum programming on the title track calls for dancing more than it does analysis.