After recent reflections on kosmische sonics and soft focus synthesis, Origin Peoples' latest release is an in-depth exploration of our universal dance floor grammar from Italian producer Whodamanny. A key member of Naples' cosmic funk contemporaries, Raffaele has put his psychedelic stamp on Periodica and Gravity Graffiti, both in solo mode and as a member of the notorious Mystic Jungle Tribe.
His debut solo LP, (and first outing on Origin Peoples) 'T.C.P.' travels a retro-futurist timeline between the esoteric electronics of Italy's rich library heritage and a chrome-clad brand of robotic body music perfect for the off-planetary resorts of the near future. Coastal, cosmic, funky and far out, this is the perfect distillation of the Neapolitan sound that's been turning heads and moving bodies in recent years.
In its fleeting half-life, the fragmentary 'Eurasia Aborigine' serves as both introduction and adjustment period, exposing us to a swell of electromagnetic pulses and establishing the synthetic flavours to follow. Launch protocol complete, 'Centum-Satem' employs maximum thrust, hurtling through proto-techno sequences, breathless snares and a bubbling bassline while solar flares provide flashes of extreme ASMR stimulus. 'Hypothesis And Contradictions' brings things back down to cruising pace, the metallic chime of a hypnogogic percussion grid underpinning the freeform bleeps of Manny's radiophonic workout. Growing in amplitude, these electronic abstractions bleed into the opening bars of 'Electronic Sheets', building anticipation before the track flickers into the maximal sound of high grade synth funk. As the snapping electro rhythm and Laswellian bass lick take possession of our primary motor cortex, the Neapolitan producer explores hi-tech jazz tones and wild solos, translating Zawinul's "Dialects" into a fresh lingua franca for the future club kids. Body language predates speech and Manny's keen to remind us that movement matters.
Opening the other side with whooshing white noise, tender jazz tones and glistening glitches, 'Kurgan Cot' could easily be Capri by the Sea of Tranquillity, while the techno-tribalism of 'Kunda Nemunas' fuses shoulder rolling polyrhythms, thick slabs of square bass and exotic mallets into the greatest groove the Cosmic club never heard. From there we take a moment of reflection via the mystical bells and hazy interference of 'Blitzkreig Mith' before 'The Light Of TCP' lifts us into an extended out-of-body experience. With Whodamanny as our guide we spend ten blissful minutes gliding through crystalline melodies, intricate solos and entheogenic tonality with only the subtle percussion and precise bass sequence keeping us tethered to our space-time continuum.
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