Photek Albums (2)
What The Critics Say
Finally released from the artistic pressure and unrelenting hype surrounding his full-length debut (1997's Modus Operandi), Photek producer Rupert Parkes moved on to embrace Chicago acid house and minimal techno for his sophomore Solaris. Whereas Modus Operandi portrayed an artist trapped within the style he'd pioneered (paranoid drum'n'bass), Solaris sounds more like an album Parkes actually wanted to make (instead of the one his fans expected). Indebted to hard-edged Chicago acid track producers like Adonis and Armando, Parkes constructed brittle, distorted drum-machine breaks (instead of the usual endlessly tweaked skittery breakbeats) and matched them with claustrophobic analog effects, most of which hark back at least a decade or so. Parkes also made the acid house connections direct by enlisting help for two vocal tracks from Chicago institution Robert Owens (Fingers Inc.). The first Owens track, "Mine to Give," attacks with suprisingly unwavering beats and a rumbling bassline straight out of the Windy City sound of the late '80s. The other Owens contribution, a smooth production named "Can't Come Down," is more reminiscent of Parkes' productions for LTJ Bukem's Good Looking Records (like the atmospheric jungle classic "Pharaoh"). In fact, only one track here ("Infinity") flirts with the drum'n'bass darkside fans and critics had pigeonholed Photek in, though there's an undeniable air of paranoia and menace throughout the album. Near the end, Parkes even salutes the growing legion of experimental-techno producers with a trio of excellent minimalist down-tempo tracks: an ambient isolationist track named "Aura" and two brittle trip-hop productions, "Halogen" and "Almost Blue Heaven" (the latter with vocals from Simone Simone). For better (and occasionally for worse), Solaris is just as dense and intensive a package as Photek's previous work. Still, the range of styles points to a more ambitious future. ~ John Bush, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Time and space are basically concepts to explain the course of events; what unites them is rhythm. So it is not fat-fetched to say Rupert Parkes (Photek) bridges both time and space on his full-length debut. He crafts drum & bass patterns of different tonal qualities and layers them with breaks of such rhythmic complexity that it subtly entrances the listener. Realizing that music's backbone is the beat, Parkes works everything off it, varying the tones of his percussion and using sampled sounds to create rhythm, all of it accented with ambient washes or spacey synth fills. But never do things stray far from the pulsing beat, and his methods enthrall. "124" sets a moody atmosphere over an understated techno beat whose impact is tempered by Parkes percussive use of handclaps, drum, and cymbals. Sometimes the vibe is jazzy, whether in the soft, rainy-night piano of the title track, or the snappy, exquisitely sampled jazz drumming on "KJZ" and "The Hidden Camera." His choice of sounds is always unusual and often effective: the muted, underwater steel-drum sound at the base of "Minotaur"; "Trans 7" with its sounds of rushing vehicles; the spacey digitized underpinning of "Aleph 1." Many of these tracks were previously released as 7", but taken as a whole, this album acquits itself as the work of one of electronic music's visionaries. ~ Chris Parker, All Music Guide
