Frank Martiniq: Little Fluffy Crowds
Boxer

The title of Frank Martiniq's fourth album obviously references The Orb's classic song though the reason for doing so remains unclear. There's little connection between The Orb's psychedelic space-dub and Martiniq's finely-calibrated tech-house nor does Martiniq attempt a “Little Fluffy Clouds” cover; regardless, the album holds up well enough despite the confusion.

Newly relocated from Neumuenster to Cologne and inspired by the vibrant club scene of his latest surroundings, Martiniq prepared Little Fluffy Crowds' eleven tracks with the dance floor strongly in mind. Though the release evidences ample stylistic range, the opening tracks hew to a signature template of buoyantly rich grooves that bump, shimmy, and sway. In the opener “Cellar Door,” for example, squirts and bleeps join delicately wavering string shudders overtop a speckled pulse in a marvel of construction that suggests a bucolic jaunt through the countryside. Anchored by a rubbery bass line, chugging rhythms, and spectral synth glimmers, subtle electronic textures and spiraling melodies slowly surface in “Foreign Sunset” while a grinding groove augmented by tiny plucks and squelches gradually turns “Use Fuse” into a roiling burner. The style culminates in “Schmuren & Uck” where a bumping micro-groove, synth flares, acid flavourings, and goosestep techno rhythms merge into a steaming Kompakt-styled broiler. As the album progresses, Martiniq ventures into downtempo chill (“35th Invest Inc.”), arcade electro-funk (“Daddy-Longlegs”), grinding schaffel (“Cuesta Verde”), microhouse (“My Bloody Clementine”), and even IDM (“Can't Kill the Boogeymen”). Interestingly, he includes “Walking Bass” twice: in its original form, it's an exercise in lurching funk-boogie with a synth line that resembles a croaking sax, and in a 'Little Fluffy Kraut Mix,' it's an electro-grinder peppered by off-kilter croaks. Simply put, if Martiniq doesn't rewrite the tech-house rule book with Little Fluffy Crowds, he at least brings a fresh, micro-detailed spin to the genre.

July 2005