Over the past several years, DJ Q has leaped into the void created by the undefined narrative of UK’s black inner-urban dance scene to claim the territory as his own. It may seem like an exaggeration to say that the majority of contemporary populist dance music emanating from England—from Disclosure to Deckstar, and from 2-step to deep house, from jackin’ to grime—exists primarily as raw material for the former star of North England’s bassline scene to work with, but when sampling some of his recent sets, the statement carries more weight.
Apart from stellar mixing, Q’s key skill as a DJ is his ability to present his eclecticism as purism, weaving together the loose ends of a series of disparate sub-genres into a unified sound which both exists beyond him and because of him. His ultimate mission is to locate and lionize the essential quality of UK urban dance music that is expressed through myriad combinations of shifting stylistic signifiers, helping the listener to follow the music’s pathways from set to set.
His debut album, Ineffable, is a collection of Q’s productions that attempts to capture the broader canvasses he typically works with*,* offering a neat, carefully pruned cross-section of the more familiar vibes the producer has promulgated: Todd Edwards-esque vocal tapestries over stuttering house beats and turgid basslines, preternaturally sweet R&B divas singing over syncopated 2-step percussion, cavernous half-step rhythms and aggressive synth riffs offering moments of tension. Those sonic collisions define Q’s best production work: as a grime cut, “Lassie” is so-so, but its queasily harmonizing synth patterns prove both alluring and ominous. “Every Time” is a bass-driven UK Garage track that sounds trapped by its own slinkiness, lost in a purgatory of svelte sensuality that never finds release.
Q’s productions function as a microcosm of the broader sonic parameters he plays with, but the typically bright, shiny precision of Ineffable's tracks*,* while bewitching in the midst of a DJ set, can sound incongruous in isolation. That said, there’s at least a few anthems here that point to Q’s skill as a pop craftsman: the simultaneously chirpy and glowering “Notice Me” is begging for a full-fledged UK Garage revival, while winsome closer “Be Mine” scales and almost reaches the heights of Sweet Female Attitude’s “Flowers”. It's a sound that trembles with joy and possibility.
