This past weekend was Electric Daisy Carnival, a yearly festival for neon-clad EDM ravers that takes place in NYC, among other cities. While perusing the throngs of revelers from the safe distance of EDC's sponsored Snapchat feed, I was struck by the gigantic array of DJs spinning to vast seas of people, each act with their own specific, trademark gimmick. Swedish duo Dada Life throw huge inflatable bananas into the crowd. There's an artist named Marshmello who wears a giant white light-up square over his face. It seemed like elaborate costuming and props were almost a prerequisite, and while hordes of teens dance their worries away, watching them made me long for the old-school showmanship of rave and acid house—no less gimmicky, surely, but grittier, more sardonic, weirder. The last time I saw Irish house and techno producer Marcus Lambkin, aka Shit Robot, perform, he too plugged in a crazy-looking LED helmet when he hit the stage, but it felt like a throwback to house's underground days, and not a ploy for more Instagram likes. He also proceeded to spin his homegrown brand of techno well into the night, striving to create that perfect, lost-in-abandon dancefloor moment—which he achieved, several times.
Shit Robot's third album, What Follows, also tries to recreate that experience, and while it's not always on the mark, it manages to deliver an enjoyable hour-long headtrip. As on his previous LPs, Shit Robot makes impeccable use of his label mates: Alexis Taylor of Hot Chip, Nancy Whang of LCD, Museum of Love, and the Juan Maclean all lend their talents, and their camaraderie with Lambkin is evident. On opener “In Love,” Taylor's lilting vocals come in and out of the mix, soaked in piercing 808 synths and stuttering bass sequencers, while Lambkin's production sets the tone for the record: one, big giant swell from start to finish.
The lead single on What Follows is “Lose Control”, cowritten with Nancy Whang and Juan Maclean, where Whang speak-sings a icy directive: “I can't fight this feeling/Lose control.” The song makes good use of Shit Robot's dash of humor, the place where his appreciation of '80s and '90s rave culture comes through the most. It's a theme further explored in “Is There No End,” a rambling five minutes of shuffling techno where a spoken-word vocal describes a man's stream-of-consciousness journey to the club, only to get kicked out at the party's peak. It's like an exact counter to the surly doorman in Kick Like A Mule's 1992 acid house classic “The Bouncer,” but recast as the druggy clubber trying his best to follow the music to its peak.
That peak, the climax forever chased by ravers everywhere, never really comes to fruition on What Follows, with a majority of the album blending into one never-ending rise that doesn't quite launch itself over the edge. It's certainly purposeful, but nonetheless it lacks for something meatier, for the sonic equivalent of a huge green robot face lighting up the sweaty night. With DFA intricately woven into his DNA and a near lifetime of ironclad production skills, Shit Robot will no doubt continue honing his sound, inching ever closer to that perfect, life-changing beat.
