Gatekeeper
Wrong Planet
self-released
After more than a decade of a layoff, New York by way of Chicago synth duo Gatekeeper are back. In and of itself that’d be welcome news to anyone even passingly familiar with 2010’s landmark Giza EP, but if you’re aware of the full spread of their discography and the role it played in shaping the current electronic landscape, the arrival of Wrong Planet is even more significant. Go back to Giza and the preceding Optimus Maximus and you’ll hear how Gatekeeper’s combo of darkly psychedelic EBM pulses and retro atmospherics primed the pump for the synthwave explosion of the early 2010s, for better or worse. By the time that movement snowballed, though, Gatekeeper had already moved on to the tropicalia techno of Exo and the cinematic frag-fest of Young Chronos. More than any record since Giza, Wrong Planet has a clearly defined and maintained sound, and at twice the length of that EP the new record has lots of opportunities to cement its combination of punishing, immediate rhythms and deep space trippiness.
It doesn’t take long to notice how much of Wrong Planet rests on the interplay between rhythmic programming and big, detuned synth leads which share as much DNA with Berlin School classics as modern day club fare. Late album highlight “Ill Wind” gets that balance exactly right: the loose zig-zagging of the neon orange synth leads is enlivened by the rock solid beats and shuddering bass beneath it. That EBM firmament of Gatekeeper’s style lopes ahead with menacing intent while the brighter but still woozy synth melodies circle and swagger around it. Similarly, the half-time grind of “Hibernal Torment” feels like a darker and punchier revisitation of classic early Gatekeeper cuts like “Slow Walk”. There are several exceptions to this formula, though; the off-kilter druginess of “Sepulchral Flute” and the stuttering sequencing of “Chambers Of The Starwatcher” blend rhythm and melody and end up not far off from left field entries in the Skinny Puppy and Mentallo & The Fixer catalogs, respectively.
Much of the strength of Wrong Planet lies in how all of its complex sequences sit in the mix in relation to one another, to either harmonious or unnerving ends. The simple Tangerine Dream-esque sequence at the heart of closer “Bone Window” swells and contracts in relation to its delay trails and and filter sweeps, sneaking a ghostly synth lead into the mix beneath the guise of its vast reverb, retreating into whispers before snuffing everything out with a satisfying finality. “Breadmaker” takes a different route, using a simple looping vocal patch as its north star so that when its driving bass and drums divert into more obscure territory, there’s a clear path back to its eventual climax. For its often snakey arrangements, the detail packed into each track is always in service of atmosphere; Gatekeeper’s knack for creating uncanny spaces via through sound design allows “Crusted Aucklet” to transport the listener to a celestial hookah bar, and “Rats” to a bug hunt in some tunnel deep beneath the planetary surface.
Gatekeeper’s catalogue has always felt like an unrealized vision of electronic music’s evolution that hybridizes seventies formalism with the most widescreen aspects of techno, trance and body music. Their absence for the better part of twelve years has done nothing to dull the power of their approach; Wrong Planet continues their legacy of warping the boundaries of genre into strange, intoxicating new shapes the likes of which have not been heard before, and may not be heard again, even from them. Highly recommended.
