Inspired by a kingdom of desolation right outside of Berlin known as the VEB Chemiework Rüdersdorf, this acid-driven “Rüdersdorf Acid Tracks” EP from NYC veteran Adam X is a great example of the cross-cultural, New York to Berlin, reverse axis, dissolving the ghostly clang of industrial machinery with searing loops of unexpectedly heavy acid.
The Chemiework was a chemical center which processed phosphates like Vauxite in the late 1800s through to the second World War, after which it was abandoned and left to ruin.
The kicks across “Rüdersdorf Acid Tracks” EP are raw and punchy, fresh off an analog drum machine. The acid plunges downwards, plagued by gravity, a little more rusted and acrid than the VCA acid sounds we may be used to hearing in modern techno productions. There is not much in the way of distracting hi-hats or other accoutrement to start. This is techno that errs more towards the raw, ghostly clang of fallen industry than towards intricate patchworks of layering abetted by sophisticated EQ-ing. Present are the arpeggiations and occasional surprise of counterpoint that make acid so generally infectious to listen to, but this outing is a hair more sinister. Much of the acid lines purr along an octave or three lower than we might be used to, throwing us off by changing the kind of instrument we expect acid to be and what role it should play in the overall scape.
On “Dystopic Monolithic Structures”, a blinker of pads stand out against these washes of acid almost in defiance of the title, like a red warning light left on top of an abandoned building, blinking on to warn passengers of danger, and then off again, so that only acid and kick remain—a factory stripped of everything but the boiler and conveyor belt.
The juicy, overdriven kicks continue to propel the tracks into a more old school style, like when titanium plated riffs of acid ping off the corrugated roofs of warehouses. Beneath whispered gothic depictions of “dark, grey clouds” and a general imagery of desolation, the acid gurgles like bubbles forming in a pool of corrosive acid eating away at a concrete floor, waiting to dissolve an unsuspecting bug. Like a jolt of electricity the factory reilluminated with twenty thousand volts of mainline power in preparation for some new global kreig. Or like the agonizing screech of dormant machinery coming back to life on “Meteors Galore”, the acid-like sparks fly out from high resistance points in wire.
-Winston Mann
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