I know a guy who would hate this, but he hates techno of all kinds, no matter how interesting in the end. (You might know him, he writes for this very site. He’s quite an astute observer of all things non-techno.) Jack Propane’s Purity Control might be the tape to change his mind. It’s got that four-on-the-floor rhythmic thud that’s as reassuring as it is foreseeable, but it falls squarely in that Orbital / Underworld (without the vocals) sweet spot that I so desperately loved when electronic music was smacking the mainstream in the face around 1997 or so. Then it stopped smacking the mainstream in the face (because the mainstream was ignoring its noodley whappings) and disappeared back into the underground. Maybe that’s where it belongs, in the shadows, discoverable only by those who care enough to look that hard. Through speakeasy doors down dank alleys or in poorly lit basement house shows. That’s probably where Jack Propane hangs out, dangling his tapes like prizes won following the defeat of minotaur-esque foes at the end of labyrinthine quests. I have no idea why I’ve decided to add in some Greek mythology to this review – Jack Propane is from New York – and I’m not sure it’s necessary. I bet he at least packs a club to the gills, though – whether or not you have to vanquish mythical creatures to get inside is not something I have any control over. If you don’t want to chance it, you can just order Purity Control on Bandcamp, then you’ll get it in the mail, without even having to leave home!
Jack Propane
Kudzu Productions
--Ryan Masteller
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