Before he was Skee Mask, Bryan Müller was SCNTST. Monday, the Munich producer's debut EP, is clear and delirious, full of tightly wound grooves and head shifts. bounces between electro, ghettotech, juke and techno, with each track containing as many ideas as drum patterns. With this EP, Müller looked less to science than to alchemy—an approach that proved telling. As Skee Mask, Müller has spent the past decade weaving together dance-music stories in all sorts of exciting ways: dubbed hardgroove techno, ornate drum 'n' bass and creepy atmosphere, psychedelic and minimalist IDM. Resort, the electronic producer's latest LP, may be his strongest distillation yet. Here, he makes clear his club-ready approach to historiography, crunching timelines and sketching a universe.
While the specifics change from disc to disc, Müller's tunes often have a similar feel: It's tough on the sleeve, and at the same time, every drum lands with icy precision and every keyboard reaches for the heavens. Even as he transitions from one genre to another, this emotive approach serves as his foundation. His music is at the crossroads of breakbeats, ambient music and techno. Over the years, he has become so adept behind the boards that any seams are more or less invisible. His catalog is equally suitable for basement raves, 4am highways. and sunny afternoons — set the bass accordingly and you're good to go. Resort takes full advantage of that range, playing like a guided tour of Müller's catalog, each drum landing with the quiet intimacy of a familiar heartbeat.
Part of the thrill of it Resort watches Müller stretch out a bit, exploring new territory while revising old traditions. In doing so, he delivers some of his warmest and most engaging music to date, giving his always precise drum programming a sepia tint. At its best, the LP's sounds came from a slightly different universe, one that Warp and Rephlex never left since the mid-'90s, and every sample arrived covered in a thin layer of dust. “BB Care”, with its unimaginable drums, dreamy synth pads and vocal samples, feels like a forgotten bonus track from Music has a right to children. “Hölzl Was a Dancer,” a house rocker with shuffle-and-skip drums and acrobatic bass, could have lit up dance floors in 1992. The hazy synth workout “Hedwig Transformation Group” recalls GAS at its most enjoyable moment, while “Waldmeister” showcases Müller's atmospheric techno chops, with sunny synths glinting amid sultry bass.
