The release of “Never Stop Running”, the first single from his new full-length Lost, sparked a lot of excitement amongst Trentemøller fans. The drums build from a tribal romp to a panicked bubbling, rife with stealthy, undercover bass—the kind that unintentionally nods to a techno-master’s version of footwork. Jonny Pierce of the Drums swoops in to set the scene for a distant dystopian landscape, crooning with a combination of innocent yearning and pop-worthy sentimentality. That pop sensibility is solidified once a wave of dubstep bolsters his hook: “We gotta leave before we dieeeee.” On the surface the song feels like a relatively natural progression after Trentemøller’s 2010 Into The Great Wide Yonder, an album that benefited from these types of wide-reaching cinematics. Whether Trentemøller’s newest album’s successes are indeed its songwriting is another matter.
The fact that more than half of the songs on Lost carry guest vocalists is surely a sign of something. Or, at the least, that this producer is looking to test the boundaries of his abilities in the indie-pop/rock sphere. Sometimes his knack for blending minimal techno and house works towards that, sounding both progressive and true-to-self. Other times, the DJ's innovation is lost in the mix. Take “Gravity”, an opening track which features Jana Hunter of Lower Dens. The song carries Trentemøller signifiers—a ping-ponging, bleepy synth pattern and minimal, plodding bass—but add Hunter and the singer’s haunting moans are immediately lifted into a swirl of psychedelic grooves. An enveloping of strings and a somber horn ballad sweep the track into becoming something that’s dictated by Hunter’s presence; “Gravity” is a perfectly fine Lower Dens track.
“Come Undone” features Kazu Makino of Blonde Redhead and the producer’s role similarly becomes second-string to his singer. Perhaps it’s the distinct way Makino bends her melodies into syrupy moans, but “Come Undone”'s slow burn sounds like something that could have come from a futuristic, alt-universe issue of Misery Is A Butterfly. But then there’s “Deceive”, featuring the Raveonettes' Sune Rose Wagner, where we see Trentemøller's behind-the-scene skills stretched to their greatness. What begins as an exercise in the dark techno he's especially great at becomes much more. A feverish, unhinged synth buzz resonates as the speed picks up, making Wagner’s whispers of treacherous love sound increasingly harrowing in the process—all the while, “Deceive” ends up as one of Lost's most danceable tracks.
Needless to say, the straight instrumentals on Lost are where Trentemøller ’s technical prowess is highlighted. As Philip Sherburne mentioned in his review of The Last Resort, this is a man who “deftly fuses minimal techno, big-room house, and the itchy-scratchy fidgeting of IDM without sounding tokenistic.” Here the DJ stays true to this idea while leaping into other universes altogether. “Trails” unfolds as a krautrock stomp where crashing chimes and furious guitars take cues from Indian folk before hopscotching into a spacey laser-light show. (It's too bad he didn't pull Hunter onto something like this.) “Constantinople” jumps on a similar ship: a shrill accordion melody sampled from old Bollywood cruises through a bombardment of electric guitar and driving drums. Add the bass and the whole thing plays out like his own version of a wild jam session in a Turkish nightclub.
It's worth noting "Never Stop Running" was released on vinyl, its B-side featuring the instrumental track of the song. Listening to it stripped of its vocals, there's no doubting that the clever structuring of epic dance-floor blends is one of Trentemøller's greatest strengths. "Still On Fire", for example, is a simply-presented industrial escapade with grunting reverb, gloomy singing synths, and the tinkling of a million percussive embellishments—yet it still manages to deliver an emotive punch. The question for the producer going forward is whether any of these strong, statement instrumentals are more restricted by or benefit from collaborative effort. Because sometimes he's better off dancing on his own.
