Switching within digital binaries, analogue flux, and all forms of degradation in between, a creature is kickstarted to life, as if awoken with locomotion's full might. Helena Hauff delivers a mix for Tresor's Kern series, lashing together a sound world with a potent barrage of industrial dance music.
Scorched-earth missives attract metals and mining chemicals, leaving little in its wake but aggravated and chaotic experiments of lateral hypotheses in acid brine. Like a hyperloop through this labyrinth, this high-velocity future is both beautiful and evil, glinting embers through low-bit fogged-out clusters. 100 metre-high aluminium pylons vibrate, each captivated by their electrified foundations. There is no place for dust to settle on the floor. Where a loose TB-tribalism knocks switches and pounds upward synaptic shocks, life down there is too rapid. Not to be taken lying down, this is the viable path forward without the shackles of turgid passivity. The effect is no less thrilling than crucial, as it presents an essential DJ of our times.
Settling into swift 150bpm groove, Hauff ploughs through shepherd-tone electro, ghetto bumps, and grizzled techno. A new collaborative track with Morah plays a rough game of meter, with Hauff's signature sound clear as ever ripping apart new dimensions with a brutal disorder over deceptive bass synths. The visceral crunch of the present is no more clear than at the halfway point, a threshold in which the breakneck electro falls apart, with the rabid foam of Nasenbluten's ballsy gabber anthem Intellectual Killer. Slowly more room to breathe comes into view, the pace drawn down revealing a strange sense of resolution, with expansive synths hinting at a beckoning euphoria. At this moment, Helena Hauff is clearly in full stride, uniquely melding fragile machinations against anarchic human interventions.