Bodycode

ALBUMS
Jessica Bailiff
Balún
Biotron Shelf
Black Turtleneck
Bodycode
Booka Shade
Cepia
Cheju
Couch
Dextro
James Figurine
Yuichiro Fujimoto
Giardini di Mirò
Isan
Judge Jules
Robert Kyr
Jasper Leyland
Marsen Jules
Ingram Marshall
Near T. Parenthesis
North Sea/Rameses
Now
OMR
One Second Bridge
Outputmessage
Lisa Papineau
Pellarin & Lenler
Reminder
Sancho
Solenoid
Somatic Responses
Spinform
Gregory Taylor
Ricardo Villalobos
Wells/Hash Baz

COMPILATIONS/MIXES
Buzzin' Fly III
DJ Deep
Domestic Blend Vol. 1
Eyelicker
Get Physical 2
Lazarus/Styles
min2MAX
Pertin_nce
Silverware
Superlongevity 4

3"/7"/10"/12"/EPs
Sir Richard Bishop
Cheju
Claro Intelecto
DJ Koze
Dykehouse
ERP/Mariel Ito
Freedarich/Stiggsen
Richard Houghten
Le K
Like A Stuntman
Minilogue
Now 04
Oxia
Pink Skull
Pocket Pet
Prox
The Suffragettes
Some. Else/Miskate
Sono
Superpit./Stardiver
Tres Demented
Unfound EP

ERP/Mariel Ito: Split 2
Ai Records

ERP (Gerard Hanson) and Mariel Ito (Eric Estornell) man the controls on Ai's latest split disc. More a forty-minute album than an EP, the two artists get three tracks apiece to showcase their lithe Detroit techno grooves and streamlined machine sounds.

Though liner notes characterize ERP's music as dub-seeped techno, Hanson's cuts are closer to buoyant electro-techno, in spite of the gradual shift from manic intensity to peaceful rumination. First up, the energized “How Did We Become Like This?” burns up the tarmac with bubbly rhythms, swizzling mechano ripples, and spacey, slow-motion electro-synth gleam. The slightly mellower though still jubilant “Members Lonely” reveals ERP's acidy bent while the most reflective of his three, “The Way We Were,” offsets stately silken chords with dubby rhythm rattles.

Having recently issued a sterling collection of chromium-plated, metal-machine music on My Cyborg Depths, Mariel Ito gets his side grooving immediately with the cruising disco sputter of “Approach.” “Future 2020” looks forward by looking back, specifically to the funky beat pulses of Kraftwerk's Computerworld, which Estornell then showers with all manner of whirrs, squelches, and distorted android vocals. “Once Upon A Creature” wends a more melancholy route, a seeming lament for a digital utopia as yet unrealized. Regardless of Estornell's intended meaning, the tune caps a solid sextet of future-directed music-making.

July 2006