Lion or Lamb? One could competently argue that Terekke falls within either character. On the one hand, he produces some of the moodiest house numbers in the scene, so pitch perfect for darkened dance floors (as you would rightfully expect from a label such as L.I.E.S.). But yet, on the flip side he manages to pump out tracks so heavenly and simplistic that the sweaty warehouse you were waltzing through seconds ago has been momentarily transformed into some sort of strange cathedral. And then, there is of course the vague possibility that he could be a combination of the both.
The four track EP is made up of mostly techno/house cross over numbers composed with particularly floating textures, with ambience aplenty. The production feels natural and honest which in turn leaves you feeling reflective; possibly even melancholic. Nothing is overstated and obviously we have somebody here with vision and a clear, but not restrictive, musical direction. I think its a fair comment to say that this is generally a key quality to those who rise to the top compared with others who fall short and become lost among the cattle.
‘Yrlv’ seems to be the the anthem of the release, primarily set apart by a soulful female vocal who pleads with the listener throughout as a gentle drum rolls over the track. In different hands this may have bordered on repetitive, but the sleek, dreamy synths are just enough to avoid mistaking it with any sheepish imitations. In essence it is an easy listener; not for the dance floor per se but enough to keep your heading nodding until the final beat drops.
‘Atba’ takes a totally different course, and quite honestly threw me off track completely. Gone are the trademark lurching drums, replaced instead with drifting synths which feel fairly scattered as though they are the last precious remnants of Aladdin’s robbed cave. It is the kind of relaxation that flows through you like rain; yes, it will eventually dissipates into a slow and steady drizzle, but the tingling warmth stays with you, compellingly.
Again this serves to highlight the prowess of Terekke; the bold move of neglecting dance floor numbers and choosing to explore a totally different piece of material only goes to show he may well be a leader and not a follower. The foray into ambient numbers which just so happen to be as commanding as the heavier numbers is quite the feat.
‘Untitled (B1)‘ has quite unnerving bassline and coupled with the muffled drums it grows so tense at some points it is as though the Lion’s gaping jaws are inching their way closer and closer toward your narrow, unprotected throat. A set opener if ever there was one. The distant, droning vocal simmers in the backdrop as the drums become more tribal, sending us deeper and deeper into wilderness.
The darkness of ‘Untitled (B2)‘ is incredible, drums kick in immediately like an uncontrollably rushing torrent which is then immediately juxtaposed by the use of chirpy percussion which randomly pops up mid track. This takes it into a totally different direction, one which is unique. That dance floor flavour returns toward the end as the drums are geared up a notch now more thunderous than before. Perhaps the stand out number of the track and one that I envision will be part of many a techno set in the upcoming year.
If history has taught us anything, it is that winners will always prosper: the beast will dominate without fear of retribution and the poor, lost sheep of the world will blindly lead themselves directly to the slaughterhouse. There is a sense that Terekke is holding back and that he has much more to give. This would coincide with the idea that perhaps that lost, shaking lamb is still hidden deep inside of him somewhere. In a way, this is the only genuine flaw of the release, a flaw which he has the capacity to evolve from in the future. The main point here though is that we can safely assume that Terekke has the roar of the Lion deep inside of him. Time will tell whether or not he has the true ability to overpower his herd and become a King of the Jungle in his own right, though. But if this release is anything to go by, that roar might be coming sooner and louder than we think.
Terreke is out now on L.I.E.S., order a vinyl copy from Bleep.