Electronic Sound July 2015 (Regular Edition) | Page 25
two pieces of kit are always going to give
you a flying start.
HAUNTOLOGISTS
Hauntologists
HAUNTOLOGISTS
Dub no bass with my 303, man.
Or something like that
With a name like Hauntologists, it’s
pretty much a sure thing that we’re not
in for 68 minutes of David Guetta-style
rave pop. For this is an album of deep,
dark and spectral techno, made by two
guys from Berlin (where else?) with
little more than a couple of magic boxes
produced by Japan’s marvellous Roland
Corporation.
Hauntologists are Stefan Schneider
and Jay Ahern, who have a stop-start
collaboration history stretching over
seven years. Schneider has excellent
past form as one third of post-rockers
To Rococo Rot and one half of Schneider
Kacirek, while Ahern’s impressive
producer/label boss CV includes cuts
under the Add Noise and Cheap & Deep
monikers plus releases by Carl Craig
and Morgan Geist. Schneider and Ahern
share an appreciation for all things dub
and acid, but the genesis of their warm,
sweet music apparently came down to
one simple fact: one of them had a 303,
the other an 808.
And let’s face it, if you’re going to make
minimal throbbing techno, then those
The pair first started making music
together back in 2008, with a series of
acclaimed EPs that married ethnological
field recordings Schneider had collected
in Kenya with raw, moody and tribalistic
future-funk beats. ‘EP1’, ‘EP2’ and –
yes, you’ve guessed it – ‘EP3’ became
DJ favourites, a slew of cryptic rhythm
tracks to percolate into the sets of
techno emissaries the world over. For
their debut album, however, the duo
have updated the Hauntologist ethic and
set a course that moves a bit closer to
the centre of the dancefloor, albeit one
that still veers well away from Guetta’s
shiny podiums.
‘Turned’ is the killer track, all phantom
timbres, itchy rhythms and a mood
lifted straight out of the pages of Mark
Danielewski’s psychological horror epic
‘House Of Leaves’. ‘Sustain’ runs with
the idea, threatening the listener with
depth-charge bass and subtle melodies
that sound as though they were quite
possibly made by some people under the
stairs. ‘Howl’ meanwhile comes on like
the bastard offspring of Richie Hawtin
and Basic Channel, jacking the beats
into a more protracted yet restrained
fury before fading out like an elevator in
freefall.
Sure, this is music to listen to with your
headphones on that long train ride from
London to Inverness, drifting along on
sci-fi rhythms and intergalactic effects.
But it works superbly in a club too,
especially if the DJ turns up the bass
and you have little fondness for your
eardrums. For Hauntologists, it’s about
conjuring up ghosts in the machine,
creating (head)spaces that shouldn’t
exist, and inviting us to get lost in the
silver box. Prepare to be spooked.
KIERAN WYATT