On Lila, his debut LP, Moroccan artist Karim presents a series of undulating electronic rhythms laser-etched into tessellated form: drumless techno from the pre-Sahara, built for communal psychic expansion.

Drumless, yes, but not percussionless. There are shakers, castanets, stabs, plonks, thuds. There are insistent basslines propelling forward, pulsing with energy, rippling in time. There are tones interlocking, rolling, fluttering, pattering. Dancing within, around, between each other. Considered in terms of sheer geometry, Lila is a techno record, unmistakably. But it sounds quite unlike any other techno record you've heard lately.

To write the album, Karim borrowed from the music of the Gnawa, a religious-spiritual musical tradition descended from West African peoples brought to Morocco as slaves hundreds of years ago. Now integrated deeply into Moroccan culture, the centerpiece of Gnawa music is the lila—or "night," in Arabic—an all-night-long ritual of rhythm designed to induce participants and musicians alike into a healing trance state. Which, if you're a dedicated raver, may sound familiar, yes?

Crafted entirely with modular synthesizers, Lila conjures a range of textures and moods. The show opens with "Bakh," a blissful exercise in beatlessness, clear and crystalline. On "Philipoussis," "Kiyex," and "Sonic," arpeggiated synths approximate Gnawa chants while interlaid percussion keeps time in multiple meters. "La" and "Kille" pulse in half-time, ideal for creative mixing. "Joul à lèvre" bristles with electricity, the sound of a charged lightning rod. "Pamil," woozy and lurching, feels like being shipwrecked on a forgotten island. Last and absolutely certainly not least, on the final track, "Miloir," Karim faces West and unleashes the album's only kick drum for a ten-minute psychedelic techno masterpiece. The mind warps; the body moves. 

Lila is released on Tikita, Karim's own record label, founded in 2014. Tikita's discography, spare but tightly curated, features artists from across the globe pushing outwards into techno's deepest reaches. Karim's album pushes even farther. Listen for yourself.