One salient observation rarely made about Tom Jenkinson, aka Squarepusher, is that within his often-meandeirng canon, he skillfully navigates the path between invention and interpretation. Save a few releases (last fall's rock concert-fantasy Just a Souvenir among them), d'n'b freakouts like those on his new Numbers Lucent EP have dominated the rhythmic tenor of Jenkinson's schizoid suites. Jenkinson's virtuosic bass work and his jazz training, however, just as often forge a path between breakbeats and fusion. Such live-band musings, even if largely theoretical, have set him apart from his more austere dancefloor cohorts.
On his new record, Jenkinson has adopted a relatively new trait: brevity. Just a Souvenir clocked in at just under 45 minutes, and Numbers is one of Jenkinson's few recent standalone EPs-- and one of his strongest. The EP streamlines Squarepusher's rave genesis in six shortish tracks. "Illegal Dustbin", for instance, presents breakcore salvos with a rough edge. It opens with a stock Amen break before continually upping the stakes, first letting loose glitchy, fuzzed-out synths and guitars then climaxing with double-speed axe work, as if he's apologizing for the rock-band dynamics of his last record.*
Numbers*, admittedly a collection of "textbook" Squarepusher works, comes only a few months after the dramatic left turn of Souvenir, which is for all intents and purposes Squarepusher Unplugged. Despite their differences, Jenkinson seems to link the two thematically, and not only with similar album art: Souvenir is more psychedelic dream; Numbers Lucent perhaps delivers the rude awakening. "Star Time 1" riffs on the same funky theme as Souvenir opener "Star Time 2"-- and it's the record's most melodic moment-- yet even it's full of acid-tinged synth lines and frantic bass runs. (Intriguingly, if the numbers refer to a chronology, it's possible the rave throwback cuts on Numbers were the original path trod for Squarepusher's 2008 LP.)
In the end, Numbers Lucent feels, oddly for a rave record (though fittingly for a Squarepusher release), academic. Even compared to the existential sighs of 2004's Ultravisitor or the blissouts of Hard Normal Daddy, Numbers' grooves look like palimpsests recalling livelier days. Numbers instead reads best as a contrast piece to Just a Souvenir. While Souvenir re-casts Jenkinson as an artist of immediate payoffs, it's also way off the decades-long course he's plotted. Numbers provides the compass pointing the way back to Jenkinson's roots, a reminder that his sonic psychosis stems from the madness of the dance floor.
