We caught up with our current feature mix contributor Tim Saputo, aka Rem Koolhaus, for a discussion of TURRBOTAX, the relevance of 'post-dubstep' in 2012, and more. You can check Tim's amazing, sci-fi influenced mix, here. 

Percussion Lab: How did TURRBOTAX come together? I know there's an XLR8R connection, are you a part of the magazine as well?

Rem Koolhaus: Yeah actually, I used to be the Design Director and Creative Director there for a while, up until XLR8R went out of print. I relocated from San Francisco to the New York office, where I met Ethan (Contakt) who still works there. He and I became fast friends and eventually he convinced me to start throwing a monthly party with him. We invited our friends Maciej (Mayster) who we met through our friend Star Eyes, from Trouble and Bass, Stephanie (Space Jam)- who was an intern at XLR8R, and Ethan's childhood friend Chris (C-sick). 

We were all feeling the same kind of stuff and had all thrown parties in our respective homelands so we just wanted to start something where we could all DJ together at, play music we weren’t really hearing out at parties, and try and bring that basement-party feeling we all grew up with back into the mix. 

It ended up being a surprise success and the party just got bigger and bigger every month--thanks largely to a very supportive community, and the timing being right for the sort of music we were playing.

PL: Do you produce?

RK: I’ve made a few DJ tools for myself that I will drop in a set every once in a while, usually when people are too drunk to realize the difference between one of my tracks and a “real” tune. I really enjoy working on tracks but I have a full time job running my own design studio (which is a one-man operation) so between that and managing TURRBOTAX® duties, I really don’t sleep much as it is.

PL: TURRBOTAX®  was self-referentially initially allied to whatever 'post-dubstep' is or was. Do you see a connection to that scene with your current sound? Does that scene still exist, or are 'we' so far past dubstep that it's no longer a reference point?  Is your sound defined by a scene/genre/tempo?

RK: I think the period around 2008 - 2010 the term "post-dubstep" made a lot more sense than it does now. I see "post-dubstep" as of more of a reference to that era rather than any specific sound. So many awesome diverse influences came and smashed together at the same time in the wake of dubstep, and It kind of breathed new life into 4/4 oriented dance music. You had stuff like “UK Funky” with it’s raw tribal-grime flex, then woozy, rude, bass-wise house that Untold was making. You had unhinged house-informed 2-step from people like Brackles and FaltyDL. The sonic spectrum was so wide and deep that it felt like there was really no limit to where it could go, and most of the time you had no idea what was going to come next. The sounds were very diverse, but was all kind of unified by certain production techniques that came to fruition in the dubstep era.

When we started, there weren’t many parties that were playing these tunes. We all were really vibing on everything that was coming out of that world and just really wanted to have a party where we could hear this music really loud all night long--and dance with our friends.

Although a lot of that music was sonically adventurous, a lot of it was also really fun. It didn’t have a stodgy air of “importance” or heavy-handed seriousness that much of the dance music community is fixated on. We really took that from that era of discovery, adventure, mystery and unabashed fun- and we try to apply that spirit to everything we do.

So, in that way I do see a connection to what we do now, and the community that formed around it. It opened new doors for people, and put house and techno into a new relatable context for a lot of people. I think that era really broke down a lot of barriers people had in their heads.

I don't think “post dubstep” is applicable to a certain sound or tempo. At this point maybe it's only a rhetorically relevant term and that’s why journalists still kind of cling to it. It’s an easy way summing up the myriad influences over the past four years.

PL: Does visual art play any part in your inspiration?

RK: It’s kind of funny because, I’m a really visually oriented person, it’s my livelihood, in fact. But as for DJing it generally doesn’t factor in for me. I kinda think about colors when I'm making a  mix- I  see the one i made for you guys as a grey-blue- but thats kinda it. But It definitely does play a role when I’m designing our posters, shirts etc., but for DJing not really.

PL: TURRBOTAX® was very much associated with a particular space (The Cove/Hugs). You've recently relocated the party to Greenpoint; how hard was it to find a space?  How important is the venue of to the identity of a party?

RK: We chose the Cove (which was called Hugs when we started) because we loved the low ceiling and the intimate vibe it had. Some people loved it, some people hated it. But we loved it, the former management, bartenders, and bouncers were the best, we became really close with all of those guys too. I really loved how intense it got in there, and with every new space we try and bring the same kind of energy.

The search for a new space was really hard and we had to look for months to find the right place. I think moving forward we're going to be using different spaces for what is appropriate for each specific party. For example we just started a new series, called TURRBOTAX® MYSTERY LOFT. We don't announce where it is until the day of the party (via email) and you have to have been to at least the last few parties of ours to get in (yes we check)- we don't announce who the headliner is at all. The reason we’re doing this is the same reason we don’t announce set times ever-- we want to encourage people to come who want to contribute to the vibe of the party. We don’t want people who will show up right before the DJ they want to see is on, tweet something snarky and then leave. It's kind of our way of driving home the idea  that TURRBOTAX® is not an indie rock concert, it’s a loud, banging, sweaty dance party. It’s also why we banned cell phone reception :D The last one was such a huge success, we already have the next few in the works.

PL: Who are some of your favorite New York producers at the moment?

RK: I really like Anthony Naples’ tunes a lot, can you believe that this guy just got started making house? “Mad Disrespect” is his first song! It’s incredible! Lemonade, are some of the best producers in New York, I’m always blown away by what they come up with, and how they translate their productions into a live setting . I also think Archie Pelago is amazing and I’m very excited to see where they go. Our own Contakt has been working on some really exciting stuff and I can’t wait for his Icee Hot release to hit the world next year. FaltyDL and Braille are also old favorites, I’m always excited to hear what they’ve been cooking up. 

PL: What other events do you consider a must right now?

RK: Compared to a few years ago, it's a great time to be in New York. There are so many parties and so much cross-over now, that there is rarely a weekend where you don’t have to make some tough decisions on where you want to go, or who you want to see perform or DJ, and thats how it should be. I think Brooklyn’s nightlife finally shook that suffocating indie-rock chokehold, and thats a really great thing.

We're throwing a party with the TURRBOTAX crew this Saturday at the Counting Room in Williamsburg.  Come through! 

FullFridge (from the French Alps) packs new heat from Montreal's HGLDT on their eighth digital release, called "Reflections on the Void".

I last heard from HGLDT a year ago with his flip of Blind Prophet's "Got Me Thinking" (L2S070). His robust drum production caught my ear, but overall the tune failed to stick with me as time passed. Color me surpised with his new material: both tracks, "FightFlight" and "Lights", far exceed his past productions with a greater emphasis on rhythm and sound design. 

"FightFlight" unleashes a nest of sampled percussion and driving techno rhythm atop a throbbing sub that takes Blawan's sonics and Regis' disdain for humanity and wrings both dry in a fallout shelter. No melodies here - just pure, industrialized groove. HGLDT keeps things stripped with "Lights", a similarly rough and tumble tech-house tune that lends itself to an even darker setting than "FightFlight". A sheet of white noise and metallic clangs introduce dub-techno chords and panning vocal stabs, submerging the environment in a bleakness not unlike Shackleton's most recent excursions. HGLDT doesn't demonstrate as strong a purpose as Sir Shack, however; the tune loses its initial momentum to a neverending stream of brittle chord splashes - invoking Basic Channel without their warmth - and a lingering rhythm that adds more ambience, rather than groove. 

This one's a cold, cold journey, and an undeniable observation of what "the void" might sound like. Grab your scarf and take the trip yourself on November 13th FOR FREE here. A secret special remix from some local Percussion Lab brethern follows on November 20th. 

Last Sunday, New York City shut down the entire MTA system at around 7:00pm EST, due to the severe weather conditions expected from Hurricane Sandy. This left myself and the rest of the five boroughs stranded in whatever neighborhood we would wind up in at the closing bell. Cabs were overbooked, prices were doubled, emergency supplies were sold out all over the place. A combination of panic and mockery was spread throughout the streets. My girlfriend being cooped up in a somewhat “vintage” building—there are new leaks/floods/door jams/problems every week, not to mention during every storm—I decided to take up residence at her house for the duration of the storm, as my own apartment could withstand the fury of a fire-tornado if it had to. As of noon the following day, “the largest storm to ever hit the East Coast,” still hadn’t unleashed itself, and our party took to the streets to assume the situation and collect goods. The streets were eerily empty save for a handful of running enthusiasts and people walking their dogs.

A week before all of this I was sent the newest album from long-time collaborators BJ Nilsen & Stilluppsteypa. The names were new to me—Nilsen having been on my radar for years, but never in my headphones—knowing only that they were from the industrious and forward-thinking Editions Mego label. The album, titled Góða Nótt (Icelandic for "good night"), spans the duration of forty five minutes in only two tracks. I had the album on hand for the hurricane with a pair of decent headphones and plenty of down time. Doing a bit of research yielded that this was the trio’s (BJ Nilsen, Sigtryggur Berg Sigmarsson and Helgi Thorsson) ninth release together, their first release having come out in 2005.

On Monday night the storm hit. No rain, but plenty of wind, and plenty of coverage of the damage being done around us. It didn’t feel like the storm the news anchors had been describing. It felt like any other windy evening in Brooklyn. The sensationalism of the broadcasts had us laughing, mocking the reporters as they filmed a children’s playset get licked at by waves. It was a good camaraderie. And as the early hours of Tuesday presented themselves, and everyone fell asleep to the sounds of trashcans running down the street, I found myself a quiet corner and began listening to Góða Nótt.

Let me start off by saying that I haven’t been this excited about an ambient release since I first heard Stars of the Lid in high school. This isn’t another drone-y, mellowed out piece by some kids with synths. This is some disciplined, powerful shit. My conclusion: a perfect album for any wintery shut-in. The story goes, as told by the group:

Last winter we got snowed in, luckily we were at the studio, so with no food or drinks, we had to take our minds of [sic] the fact that we´ll have to spend the time locked in until the snow melted, so we decided to work on new recordings influenced by the situation. The snow is all up over the window, It might be even up over the top of the house, and from time to time we had the feeling that we may have been asleep for a week, for all we know.. We couldn't even tell what day it was, or whether we had slept one night, or two nights, or even longer. Looking out at the windows was like looking at a detuned TV set, reflecting just flickering green lights from the electronic equipment, sometimes vanishing and re-appearing in the blink of an eye. The only attempt of contact from the outside were by pointing powerful microphones through the masses of snow, trying to monitor any or little activity, whooshing noises, static bursts, buzzing melodies even voices. As we doctored the tapes of our recordings we seemed to have created weaknesses in space and we developed a total, complete darkness finding ourselves out of this world, traveling without moving, into the flickering green light.

In the first three seconds of “Góða Nótt 1” we’re taken through a speedy abstract of the idea behind the next forty five minutes. We get a flash of white noise, a man’s voice, and a motor starting up. If this were an essay, those three seconds would be the hook, the thesis, and the summary written in three precise words. Universe, man, machine. This album, as is most of Nilsen’s work, deals with the sound of nature and its effect on humans. It finds men playing with their toys while trapped by the indifferent ferocity of nature.

The two tracks cast a powerful spell over me. Never have I experienced listening to anything for that duration, composed of mostly meshed together field recordings of emptiness and faint static, and felt it kept my attention throughout. And yet, my attention never felt focused. It was a weird feeling coming to the end of the album. Had I listened to them? Yes, I remembered pieces of everything so clearly. The fifteen minutes of whispered air, the sound of an old radio, the harshness of what seems like a shovel meeting granite. (I believe at one point a cell phone even goes off. Someone please verify this.) So far I’ve sat through its entirety three times, and I never felt I was doing something slow and oppressive. I never had to concentrate on the music at all. It slips into the background of anything I’m doing, such as writing this post, and lends an eerie emptiness, yet familiarity, to my mood.

The sounds of being trapped behind motionless snow are ubiquitous, but the whole thing sounds warm and comfortable, not quite hopeless and abandoned. This is the overwhelming feeling and idea behind this review. A happiness, willingness, and luckiness to be stranded. As if the musicians brought out the very mood they felt in the situation of creating it, buried in walls of snow with their favorite musical equipment and close friends. An optimism in solitude.

I’m not going to say Góða Nótt got me through the storm. Fortunately nothing happened to our neighborhood or ramshackle apartment. It was, however, a great way to spend midnight, staring out the window at the trees and untamed trashcans getting tossed around, wrapped in a blanket with my loved ones close by. And now, with the subways still down, cabs fighting for gas, and areas without power, the feeling of isolation hangs comfortably over me. Getting anywhere the past few days has been difficult, if not otherwise impossible. I’m trapped at home in an always fast-paced city, and though this would cause many to become distraught I find myself relishing the break from normalcy. Of course, those without homes are living in a completely different mindset, working by the minute to rebuild their homes and their lives. Sandy destroyed cities, neighborhoods, plans for Halloween. My earlier mockery had me biting my tongue. This really turned out to be one of the worst! But for those of us fortunate enough to have an hour and speakers to listen in with, I wish you Góða Nótt this evening, and invite you to feel comfortable with being alone.

Buy Góða Nótt in all formats here. Listen to some snippets here and here. Listen to an excerpt of their previous album which sounds mostly totally different here.

We actually came up with the idea for this interview a while back: Take two of our favorite dj's or producers (or dj/producers, of course) and have them talk to each other about 5 of the most meaningful records in their colllections. For our first installment, which we shot over the summer as the second installment (long story), Eamon Harkin and Justin Carter of the legendary New York parties Mr. Saturdaty Night and Mr. Sunday interviewed each other. Ranging from a primer on the pre-history of the Mr. collaboration,  to their mutual goal of 'getting the indie kids to dance,' we're excited to share this intimate exchange between two confirmed tastemakers. 

An Interview with Justin Carter & Eamon Harkin (Mr. Saturday Night & Mr. Sunday) from Percussion Lab on Vimeo.

You can catch Justin and Eamon Saturday at 12-turns-13 in Brooklyn for their Mr. Halloween Night event, Apocalypto, and at the Gowanus Grove on Sunday for the final Mr Sunday of the season.  See you on the dancefloor!