You’re a brave/foolish worker with one of the most hazardous occupations in the galaxy: handyman on a Star Creator ship. You possess the glamorous job of astral custodian; but you get to watch. You’re gifted the opportunities to witness the birthing of stars. There could be no more awe-inspiring sight, and each one is different. Some will bear new civilizations, while another may destroy the Star Creator itself. You begin to watch the process for the first time.
This album is a strange one. It’s huge and wonderful, but strange. Dumb Flesh is the second full-length offering by producer Blanck Mass, who you may possibly know as one of the founding members of Fuck Buttons. If you’re familiar at all with the discography of that awesome group, you may already hold a hint about what this pulsing, black hole of a record contains. For those of you that aren’t, you’re in for a rhythmically-savage ride.
Ambience is the sky in these mountainous songs, and driving, tribal rhythms are the thundering Earth. Everything sounds enormous, and that’s all thanks to the producer’s many years of sound engineering experience and experimentation. Nothing is held back, and each track seems to build until they burst from the seams, before the grounded beats drop out and the listener is suspended in a glowing haze; strange, but beautiful.
Maybe the strangest thing of all, is that you can absolutely dance to this thing. The tasteful beat production spans an immense range, from quicker, electro-esque songs (“Dead Format,” “Double Cross”), to more slowed-down, French house-ish tracks (“No Lite,” “Cruel Sport”), to totally spaced-out hip hop beats reminiscent of early Flying Lotus (“Atrophies”). There’s something for everyone to move their feet to, with their heads up in the stars. If you’re looking for dance music that conquers worlds, this album is for you.
– stasi (@stasisphere)