With Ewan Robertson, one is at a loss to explain. Many of my colleagues were in a bit of a grump regarding the latest Flying Lotus record, most of them true to the motto: »It’s all good and well, but when am I gonna listen to this? When am I ever in the mood for this music?« Our answer was unanimous: »When could you ever not be in the mood for this music?« Now, I’ve got »Bake Haus« in front of me, the mini-album after the previous two EPs at Big Dada by Ewan Robertson, who used to be handled as an insider-tipp in all kinds of blogs (and who shouldn’t really be directly compared to FlyLo). However, it’s the same question that pops into my head: Seriously, what would be the right mood to listen to »Bake Haus«? What’s delivered mostly, is a remarkable coldness, which makes the 30 minutes seem like a finger exercise for Robertson. »Gutter« sits in the middle of it all, a dissonant colossus, without any real rhythm. The drone dissolves pretty quickly, but at that very moment, »Bake Haus« is a surface for friction. Many other tracks are just too monotonous. »Lifes Too« throws its own concept in the trash after only a minute and a half. The comparisons to Rustie and Mohawke are less suitable with every rotation, because »Bake Haus« is by no means as compact as the latest releases of those two beat-smiths. Instead, grime, HipHop, dubstep and drum&bass are only means to an end. What’s positive is that Offshore still has his very own sound, underlining that it is him who’s turning the knobs. It might be only a sketchy and small idea, something that makes sense only in that very moment. The big hit could be following with the next album. The real album. No loss to explain then, but hopefully the knowledge: I can always listen to this. Not just at a special moment.
Bake Haus
