Deepchord's bare knuckle techno is pushed through a filter akin to a silencer on a gun, simulating (and stimulating) the sensation of hearing pounding beats from the next room, where everything else is muffled. Caught between harmonious and harrowing hallucination involving the revolutions of nature's washing machine, 'Ultraviolet Music' (a contender for the year's most fitting album title) follows the same mysteries presented by Rod Modell's previous Soma long players 'Hash-Bar Loops', '20 Electrostatic Soundfields' and 'Sommer'.
Set to a psychedelic domino effect that takes care of itself – only here it's even more smothered than before – softly smeared ambient dub techno shape-shifts like activity inside a lava lamp: except you can really feel the heat given off as well as become absorbed by the pretty patterns. Headphones gripped by sweat, the spiking of labyrinthine tranquillity becomes near enough ghostly on 'Grundig'. 'Red Sky' poses no threat, but the rebounds of bass beneath nudge it from the sphere of a self-help instructional.
Two discs and 21 tracks means this isn't an advertisement for part-timers – you can imagine Deepchord barely looking up from his console throughout. Returning to the lava lamp analogy, there's only so long before all the shapes and colours start to look the same, such is Modell's style of being malleable, yet steadfastly rigid. By the same means it's so easy to get lost in the waxing and waning whirlpools of 'Sferic' and 'North Sea', which impressively manages to sound relatively refreshed despite being one of nearly two dozen siblings.
Fans will be delighted, newcomers intrigued, those in-between…probably a bit nonplussed as to Deepchord's progression. If you can withstand the lack of deviation, it's a therapy that'll hold you in good stead.
Words: Matt Oliver