Kris Wadsworth – Infiltrator

A true robot uprising...

Let’s not sugar-coat what quickly becomes blindingly obvious: this shit from Kris Wadsworth is hard. It’s a true robot uprising, electro, acid and techno with the essence of Joey Beltram’s ‘Energy Flash’ as guide and leader, pressure cooked in a Berlin-built crucible. The loops are uncomplicated; that’s probably the most devastating part, attacking you in serrated waves, snarling, baiting you, at a concentrated eight tracks and BPMs that never top anything over respectable.

Forget artificial intelligence looking for any humanist interaction. ‘Infiltrator’ follows a strict programme of real machine music straight off the Detroit conveyor belt and wading into society armed to the teeth with fear in its nostrils. ‘Gearbox’ repossesses the spook factor of 80s synths by making them drip and squelch something toxic. ‘Rhumba’, a lowered techno-electro warhead with hotwired 8-bit plug-ins, gets on some ‘Falling Down’ meets ‘Tron’ business. Only ‘Portrait’, with a set of airy synths in its holster, lightens the load any, but still promises a battle. ‘Milano’ does not concur, where despite teasing you with a flatlining machine on an Area 51 gurney, jumpstarts itself into a techno oscillation heading for the autobahn.

‘Sweetheart’ is an odd way to conclude the mission, particularly within such a short set; synths get hopped up on helium like Wadsworth has liberally sprayed a combination of WD40 and air freshener, casting itself as the Jar Jar Binks of the franchise. Labelling it as one dimensional actually means it gets down to business and gets what it needs from punters on the spot, upped from Wadsworth’s previous two albums and renouncing the sleaze found on ‘Life And Death’ and ‘Popularity’. The extent of any symbiotic relationship orders you to get your head down and start marching on Wadsworth’s signal. Or else.

8/10

Words: Matt Oliver

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