The song creeps onto the dancefloor, slow-motion beats twist and turn as the refrain gets chanted over and over, a sick sax loop slithers across booming 808s... ghosts of Low Rider, sounds looped to infinity, and War's crisp sound echoes in the ether. The crisp unfolding percussion sounds in 1975 like a blueprint for large swathes of machine soul — alongside Fresh, Sly Stone and Marvin's Trouble Man — with just an errant bit of saxophone in the fade to lay dormant for a solid 40 years before reawakening, punched up wildly in the mix in vivid 3D. Flo Rida/Low Rider... almost like it was etched into the code way back when.
Call back the subroutine and run again, loop back and then fast-forward... that's the way works, after all. Playing with time, turn back the page for a moment to envision the future, and cut a jagged crab walk toward enlightenment. Two steps forward, one step back. Rethink/remodel: how else do you work your way back from a dead end? A couple years spent in the wilderness, but that's a temporary condition too: every trend fades to make way for another, before sometimes returning like History Repeating. After awhile, you begin to see the patterns.
So as we stand at the precipice of 2019, you can almost see the ones and zeros criss-crossing and cross-pollinating, arcing toward the real once again. After some delay, the shock of the new returns like an old friend (file under futurism). Wrapping up the last couple pages of the Terminal Vibration in the first quarter of the year, as we reroute the circuitry into sprawling realms of machine music (and beyond), and it feels like A Sort Of Homecoming. 1997 or 1993... or something else entirely? It seems only time will tell. After all, it always does in the end.