Michael Mayer returns to the Speicher series for his first release since last year’s brain-bursting The Floor Is Lava album. And yes, the floor is indeed lava when Mayer is on peak form, as he is here, with three tracks that oscillate, effortlessly, between the twin poles of Mayer’s music: dancefloor detonation and heart-wrenching beauty. To be fair, there’s more of the former here, but there’s beauty in generous discipline, too, and the unrelenting “Cry Me A Raver” feels, somehow, like it brings together decades of Kompakt pleasure in six giddy minutes – disco-fied arpeggios, glistening and hand-burnished textures, abstruse patterns that fall in and out of step. “Don’t Sync With My Tag” stomps with destructive glee, a beat as undeniable as the shaker cross-rhythms are silkily sexy. There’s always been something practical, functional, and utilitarian about Speicher, but it doesn’t get more everyday DJ-life than this: Mayer tells us the title is “a super-annoying message that pops up every time you open Rekordbox. Nobody knows what it means. It’s a DJ mystery.” But who needs answers, anyway? By the time you’ve started to get close to solving the riddle, Mayer’s taken you to Detroit via Cologne with “It Isn’t What It Isn’t”, a little doffing of the cap to Rhythim Is Rhythim. “You’re May, I’m Mayer, I used to tell him,” Michael chuckles. This made one of our cats almost jump out of its skin, with its stealthy slyness – creeping, amorphous electro noise; percussives that just won’t quit; the whole thing flooded with twitchy strip-light energy and silver-machine flare- outs.
Speicher is as Speicher does, and this is a damn good one. Make Mine Mayer!
Michael Mayer returns to the Speicher series for his first release since last year’s brain-bursting The Floor Is Lava album. And yes, the floor is indeed lava when Mayer is on peak form, as he is here, with three tracks that oscillate, effortlessly, between the twin poles of Mayer’s music: dancefloor detonation and heart-wrenching beauty. To be fair, there’s more of the former here, but there’s beauty in generous discipline, too, and the unrelenting “Cry Me A Raver” feels, somehow, like it brings together decades of Kompakt pleasure in six giddy minutes – disco-fied arpeggios, glistening and hand-burnished textures, abstruse patterns that fall in and out of step. “Don’t Sync With My Tag” stomps with destructive glee, a beat as undeniable as the shaker cross-rhythms are silkily sexy. There’s always been something practical, functional, and utilitarian about Speicher, but it doesn’t get more everyday DJ-life than this: Mayer tells us the title is “a super-annoying message that pops up every time you open Rekordbox. Nobody knows what it means. It’s a DJ mystery.” But who needs answers, anyway? By the time you’ve started to get close to solving the riddle, Mayer’s taken you to Detroit via Cologne with “It Isn’t What It Isn’t”, a little doffing of the cap to Rhythim Is Rhythim. “You’re May, I’m Mayer, I used to tell him,” Michael chuckles. This made one of our cats almost jump out of its skin, with its stealthy slyness – creeping, amorphous electro noise; percussives that just won’t quit; the whole thing flooded with twitchy strip-light energy and silver-machine flare- outs.
Speicher is as Speicher does, and this is a damn good one. Make Mine Mayer!
