imre kiss: strangers

Core family member and Crisis founder Imre Kiss returns to the Lobster fray with a deep, riveting and emotive EP for sub-label Mörk. Infused with the emotional energy of his previous outings whilst plunging into a wormhole of London-centric sonic references, Strangers is Imre at his most potent and signals a striking return for the Budapest producer. 'Love' opens with that signature husky looped bark/machine rachet and quickly brings up an undulating scuffed kick and squelched percussion. A steady droning and progg-y builder that gives way to crystalline new age pads and morphs into a world-engulfing acid epic; straddling the London-stepped rhythm to it's emphatic techno conclusion. 'She Moves Through Fire' uses these elements in a more stylistic fashion. A slow brooding electro number that combines ghostly synthesised horn blasts with delay-drenched crystalline top lines, stuttering hi-hats, and the imminent arrival of emotional epiphany. A slow burning, total eclipse of the sun. The B-side begins with a beat-less rhythmic techno climb, slammed by wave after wave of swelling sub as layers of sedimentary percussion build up along the shores. Sheared hi-end hits it's peak with a yelping-refrain, setting loose a heaving and thumping kick that rides us out til the end. A stellar set-opening weapon this. Closing out the set is 'No Turning Back'. That stepped rhythmic looping is back in full power effect with plenty of chuntering, filtered perc-synth overlapping. A staggered and cosmic take on the early minimal sound with that UK edge - think Robert Hood via Actress - that steadily rolls out into the distance.