Right before a Caribbean vacation in 2009, I got turned on to a slow-moving yet sunkissed slice of Balearica perfect for laying on the beach. Produced by an unknown Portuguese duo named Mendes & Alçada, they had but that lone single to their credit. A bit of digging revealed that one half of that duo, Tiago Miranda, was quite a busy producer in his own right. Soon after, his tracks turned up on labels ranging from Italians Do It Better to Japan’s Ene, from Prins Thomas’ Internasjonal Spesial to DFA, while his band Gala Drop was beginning to garner some notice as well (though Miranda has since left that group). While the labels may have been varied, Tiago's adept nature for crafting tracks that could be leftfield disco, acid, or psychedelic dub house connected them all.
Ecstasy & Release-- released under the name TNT Subhead-- marks Miranda's first full-length effort. But his name appears nowhere on the album sleeve or on the record labels; there are no credits whatsoever. And judging by the cover art, it looks more like a lost agitprop 80s post-punk record than something suited for dancing. It seems destined to be mis-filed, which may be what Miranda wants.
The music itself seems unwilling to be beholden to any one genre. Opener “Story of the Eye” namechecks the sexually-kinked novella by Georges Bataille, but favors the smooth minimal pulses of something like Steve Reich's Music for 18 Musicians, bolstered with chimes, rattles, and some live drums. The textures are enthralling although the track builds only to drain away slowly. The incessant, anxious hi-hats on “Can’t Relax” fall somewhere between “Vote for Miles” and “Someone Great” and make the song feel overly caffeinated and on-edge.
It leads into the album’s squelching standout track, “Icelberg”, which thrills even though it never quite settles into being electro or acid, its icy arpeggios meeting a heavily-reverbed guitar line that warms it ever so slightly. The title track repeats “We all need love” ad infinitum, giving it the feel of an early Chicago house track, though the rock guitar nudges it beyond simple pastiche.
The second half of the album brightens its tone ever so slightly. “Think of Sex But Not of You” uses a bowed cello and a stand-up bass line to erect a sleek and spacy house track out, soon building up enough steam to sound like one of Larry Heard’s more jazz-tinged productions. A more primitive drum machine pushes “The Book of Yes” along, adding analog synth gurgles, bloops, and a touch of acid along the way.
It sounds like Miranda repurposed the acid line he deployed on his excellent leftfield 2010 single “Motorcycles” (a track that James Murphy played out often at that time) for penultimate track, “Arp K Found”. Yanking out the live drums and churning guitar line of the original and layering more synth washes across it instead, it doesn’t work quite as well. Ecstasy & Release makes me pine for a compilation that might truly bring all of Miranda's myriad productions in one handy package. But as a debut, it's an encouraging sign, no matter what genre he decides to go into next.
