Analogue presents ZOMBY

ZOMBY

Never one to be tied down by the boundaries of any scene or genre, Zomby’s catalogue so far has unfurled in all sorts of weird and remarkable directions. From the dark bubbling atmospherics of his early Dubstep releases on the influential Hyperdub label, through the twisted, molten klaxons of his hardcore-influenced “Where were you in ‘92” album on Werk, to the serpentine psychedelic chip-tunes woven through his recent output on Ramp, Zomby has defiantly marched to the two-step beat of his own drum.

While Zomby chooses to cloak himself in anonymity - notably obscuring his face with the pyramid eye of providence in his most used publicity shot - his musical output has created serious ripples both inside and outside of Dubstep circles. His album and EPs garnered rave reviews on websites such as Pitchfork (who describe him as “one of those crucial producers who can trace his lineage back though a youth of garage, jungle and rave”) and Resident Advisor (who proclaim that he “blew the bloody and stumped doors off the dubstep rule book”). It’s no surprise that every forward-looking new release from the influential producer is leapt on by a legion of DJs and dance music fans alike.

It’s not only critics who’ve taken notice of Zomby’s singular talents. Sharp-eared festival goers would have heard the unmistakeable bomb-scare sirens of ‘Euphoria’ dropped into Aphex Twin’s live sets last summer, and, more recently, none other than a certain Lady Gaga has blasted a cut or two during the interlude of her recent ‘Monster Ball’ tour.

In spite of the white-hot hype surrounding his musical output, Zomby only rarely makes live appearances. ‘Where were you in ’92?’ Zomby asks in his giddy love-letter to the mashed up days of hardcore; where will you be on Friday March 19th?

Zomby: Where were you in 92?

Zomby
Where were you in 92?
Werk

Where were you in ’92? Erstwhile chip-tune loving Dubstep producer Zomby has just released a remarkable album based around this rhetorical question. Of course, the implication is that ‘you’ were mashed out of you brain at 4am in the middle of a field in England while a churning hardcore piano motif melded impossibly with the rising sun. There is no doubt that Zomby’s album is meant to play as a homage to such halcyon reminiscences. But, thankfully, the title is disengenous. There is a lot more at work here than mere revivalism.

For sure, Zomby has grabbed the glowstick of early ‘90s hardcore and run with it to a demented chorus of klaxons. Even if we disregard for a minute the explicitly druggy titles of songs such as ‘Pillz’ and ‘Euphoria’, the overall gleeful, sinister and deranged throb is so reminiscent of the work of Joey Beltram and 2 Bad Mice that listening to parts of the album is like getting stuck in an episode of Doctor Who where the Tardis lands somewhere off one of those fabled M50 raves in 1992.

Yet, there is such a ridiculous abundance of other riches going on here. There is also enough quality drum’n’bass to qualify the album as more than just a doffed cap to A Guy Called Gerard circa ’95, and, on various later tracks, Zomby’s Dubstep day job comes to the fore, anchoring us to the present and cockily reminding us of his prodigious talents. Here is a rare thing, an intelligent producer exuberantly paying homage to dance music’s recent past whilst hinting at a potential way forward. Oh, and did I say? It is seriously fucking fun.