With his 2009 debut LP, A Slave's Commitment, 22-year-old Dutch producer Applescal announced himself as a formidable new talent. His sound was highly approachable; familiar yet fresh. His songs often recalled the sleek architecture of Boards of Canada and the slithering pulses of Four Tet, with a hint of the Traum label's distinctive sparkle. But at their best, they packed a sultry wallop that felt like an emerging voice of Applescal's own. Compared to the mean rhythmic slant and melodic punch of highlights like "In the Mirror", linear vamps like "I Can't Stand" felt indistinct. He sometimes got caught up in showing off what he could do, rather than what he could envision. But his vigor and ability made even the lesser tracks worthwhile.
It looks like we have to keep waiting for Applescal to get past his impulsive streak. Little has changed on A Mishmash of Changing Moods, and why should it have? It's only been eight months. The album is more focused than its inauspicious title suggests, but as on Commitment, Applescal has produced about an EP's worth of dazzling material padded with the kind of competently stimulating tech fantasias you feel like he can crank out all day. His skill as a sonic architect is always at the forefront, and he's great at taking a handful of thematic elements and making them dance with graceful complexity. In the tension between nested rhythms and overarching melodies, beleaguered drum machines struggle to keep time before snapping back into place. Synths are filtered every which way. The sounds are so finely tailored you can feel the unique shape of each snare.
But at his best, Applescal gets past minutiae and dreams up modular, interlocking universes of sound, with multiple motifs. Mishmash's first two tracks feel like warm-ups, though the ghostly vibes of the first make for a nice introduction. It really gets going with "Dialeague", his best and most unique work to date. The contrast between warm static and icy-clear melody is instantly immersive. It feels visionary and spacious. All of the bull's-eyes have something special that makes them stand out from the album proper: The curving, radiant spray of "The Key of Genes"; the ominous bass flicker of "MC Iron"; the thick, juicy groove of "In Theory". This high bar makes what would otherwise be totally solid spitting-drum and shrilling-synth workouts sound rote, a little pointless. Applescal seems limited only by a youthful urge to use everything, right now, as emphasized by the long, weird, unfinished-feeling closing track of Mishmash. Once he gets past it, look out.
