Supernature, Solenoid’s fourth full-length, departs from Orac’s recent glitch-laden offerings with a refreshing exploration of ‘old-school’ analog sounds, specifically synths that gleefully glisten, sputter, bleep, and squeal by turn. The 12-song collection mixes a generous share of dance material, often acidy in nature, with David Chandler (aka Solenoid and DJ Brokenwindow) scattering brief noise experiments (of the many such interludes, “Spitbugs” resembles a synthesized school of cawing crows transformed into thrumming sludge, “Wiwxaia III” is an experiment in cello sonics, and “The Archivist” a schizoid soundscape outro accompanied by a chattering drum machine) amongst more conventional club tracks (apparently, Supernature is a concept album with each track centered on ideas like nanotechnology and genetic engineering).

But while it deploys a 303-based synth sound, the album isn’t acid techno—Chandler’s tracks meander a little too waywardly for that and, furthermore, his preference for simple drum machine beats over complex programming gives the album a more innocent aura—think Metropolis, not Blade Runner. Of the more developed pieces, three in particular stand out: the pulsating electro opener “Drack Soul” which reveals a Kraftwerk influence in the mournful melodies that float over the driving base; “Bezoar Tides,” a propulsive slice of acid synth-funk wherein Solenoid layers what seems a battalion of synths to generate a swarming, amplified mass; and, best of all, “ThighHigh,” an acidy bit of steamy electro-funk ignited by a bleepy five-note theme that’s frankly irresistible. It’s worth noting, however, that Solenoid’s style isn’t old, it’s simply that the ‘clean’ non-processed synths and drums sounds give it a retrograde feel. In short, instrumentally the disc resurrects an ‘80s sound (“Protein / Lemuria,” for instance, could be slotted onto Tangerine Dream’s Phaedra without anyone batting an eye) but its compositional sensibility teleports it into the present—hence the omnipresent tension with which Solenoid’s music is permeated. Finally, to his credit, Chandler’s spirited collection is just the right length—there’s definitely enough here but not so much that your interest is exhausted by album’s end.

—Ron Schepper, Textura

Portland-based IDM composer Solenoid delves into acid experimentation on his fourth full-length, the 303-happy Supernature.  The results can be spot-on ("Drack Soul,” a worthy Robotnick rival) or a little off (its chaser, the hyperactive “Blowatcher"). But as a concept album based on Solenoid’s sketchbook thoughts on nanotechnology, genetic engineering, and futuristic battles, the songs don’t have to be on.  They’re about a world that’s slowly but surely getting fucked, so Supernature’s union of ambiguous menace and hedonism makes sense.  Blinded by science, Solenoid forecasts the future while keeping one ear firmly in 1982. 

—Rachel Shimp, XLR8R

Naivité is equal to quality, if it’s implemented with the unbridled joy of a Nerd in its formative and technical perfection.  This equation, to which it seems David Chandler alias Solenoid from Portland constructs his tracks, is as simple as obvious - at least for those, like Chandler, born record-obsessed by nature, who meanwhile will certainly completely love his fourth album.  Solenoid’s music is naive.  Everything from him is a trace too genuinely, too merrily, too playfully, too clearly and gladly overloaded. Meanwhile on the production side, the pieces are very sophisticated, detailed and almost perfectly worked.

So, “Supernature” sounds roughly like, as one would envision a West Coast Techno party in a half-clichéd way: air filled with radiant sunshine and trippy sparkles, the sound system bumping dance music with a certain plastic factor.  The reference to Cerrone - the French Disco Don not only lent the album title, but gets thanks in the liner notes for inspiration - therefore works somewhat puzzlingly since Solenoid has fastened himself so eagerly into his Electro and above all Rave nostalgia.  But also, baroque plastic funk covered in Techno-Schmalz can even be beautifully made.

Naivität ist gleich Qualität, wenn sie mit der unbändigen Freude eines Nerds an gestalterischer und technischer Perfektion umgesetzt wird. Diese Gleichung, nach der David Chandler alias Solenoid aus Portland seine Tracks zu konstruieren scheint, ist so simpel wie einleuchtend – zumindest für ähnlich geartete Spielzwangnaturen wie Chandler, die sein mittlerweile viertes Album ganz bestimmt lieben werden. Solenoids Musik ist naiv. Alles an ihr ist eine Spur zu echt, zu fröhlich, zu verspielt, zu eindeutig und gerne mal überladen. Dabei sind die Stücke auf der Produktionsseite sehr ausgefeilt, detailliert und quasi perfekt gearbeitet.

„Supernature“ klingt also ungefähr so, wie man sich klischeemäßig eine Technoparty an der Westküste der USA ausmalen würde: die Luft durchdrungen von strahlendem Sonnenschein und Psychoflirren, aus dem Soundsystem klotzt Tanzmusik mit dem gewissen Plastikfaktor. Der Verweis auf Cerrone – vom französischen Disco-Don wurde nicht nur der Albumtitel ausgeliehen, sondern in den Linernotes wird ihm auch für Inspiration gedankt – wirkt daher etwas rätselhaft, da sich Solenoid doch so eifrig in seiner Electro- und vor allem Rave-Nostalgie festbeißt. Aber auch Barock-Plastik-Funk mit viel Techno-Schmalz obendrauf kann eben schön gemacht sein.

—Arno Raffeiner, Intro.de

Solenoid es algo así como el Luke Vibert americano, un tipo aficionado a la IDM deslavazada siempre y cuando entre su desorden de ritmos y sonidos que suenan a mohoso haya sitio para un kitsch bien digerido que él canaliza a través de su alias DJ Brokenwindow –al final no era suizo, el pillastre– y sus discos de bootlegs caseros y absurdos. Como Solenoid, Chandler lo ha explorado todo, el electro y los ritmos con fractura de tibia y peroné, y desde que le quitó el polvo a su vieja 303 ahora es el acid lo que toma cuerpo en un “Supernature” que, siguiendo con el paralelismo de Vibert, sería como mezclar dos facetas del inglés –por un lado, el sonido disco bizarro de Kerrier District; por otro, el del reciente “Lover’s acid” o el “YosepH” para Warp– con su toque de freakismo particular. De hecho, Solenoid ya había avisado de su viraje en “Night beach / Sam Clam’s disco”, un maxi para el sello Community Library en el que ya proponía este sonido acidisco con resultados notabilísimos: bases destartaladas, basslines ácidas gruesas como troncos de pino, melodías rocambolescas y así hasta forjar una identidad reconocible en la antigua música de los grandes del braindance –Mike Dred, Aphex Twin, incluso Squarepusher si le quitáramos los breaks– aliñada con el toque personal de Solenoid. Y es que además de una orgía ácida e inteligente, “Supernature” ofrece un diseño de cubierta pseudo-científico justificado en las notas del CD con las referencias a Stanislaw Lem, Charles Darwin y Morton Subotnik, es decir: ciencia ficción, biología –cada tema es el nombre de un bicho marino– y cacharrería analógica.

f135.com

Both in technology and composition Solenoid’s fourth release is an album unstuck in time. Portland, OR native David Chandler dusts off his analogue synthesiser and fires up the acid-tinged 303 rhythms with mixed results. Nostalgia in electronics is a dubious prospect, given the field’s propensity for futurism, but opener “Drack Soul” manages to capture the sponge-form tone bending and motorik rhythm of vintage house in a non-toady manner. Elsewhere, as on “Bazaar Tides,” there is a strange collateral echo to ’80s style remixes of rock tracks, minus the echo chamber hand claps. Brief interludes like “Spitbugs” and “Wiwaxia III,” both under a minute, serve as reminders that we haven’t completely abandoned present day and also as pushpins keeping Chandler’s more IDM ideologies in place. “Protein/Lemuria” is a black sheep of a track that sits on its hands (atop the synth keys) and oscillates the intonation of a coarse drone. Concepts involving nanotechnology and genetic engineering supposedly background the action, but their relation to the sound is not immediately evident. Supernature is a pleasant diversion into the stylistic roots of dance music, but can a look over the shoulder also constitute an artistic advance?

Eric Hill, Exclaim!