LOW STOCK LEVEL
This is the second full-length release by London's Lukid (Luke Blair). Inspired by obsessions with artists such as Can, Madlib, Theo Parrish and Autechre, Lukid was born, spending many a lonely night hunched over his midi keyboard, layering up wonky beats and squeezing out woozy chords. In 2007, Lukid released his astonishing debut album Onandon, made up of the kind of Rubik's cube compositions that twist in a broad spectrum of elements to manipulate hip-hop founded electronics from dust-encrusted loops, laser-tag beats and sea-sick rhythms, built with equal parts Cologne minimalist machine-click techno and the low swing of Detroit's latter-day mix of cross-pollinated hip-hop, soul and house. Lukid's mature, complex and intricately-plotted instrumentals unfold with slow-burning, textured detail, sometimes recalling the gravelly disposition of early DJ Shadow, yet it's his grace, sample dexterity and excess of panache that pitch this artist oceans away from the weary, blunted brigade. When a producer is able to deliver an epic widescreen vision while at the same time maintaining his "A" game, that should be cause for celebration, and Lukid has been rightly feted on boards and blogs ever since his first release. And now to Foma, a second story which introduces a darker insight into his crumbling environs, a haunting tale of deep south conversations with a Studio One foundation. In a world where artists' influences can appear paradoxical or sometimes completely unrelated, Lukid hammers the sounds of his together into a single sheet of incredibly intriguing electronic music. You won't already need to be in love with the languorous beat constructions of Madlib, Dabrye, Flying Lotus, Samiyam and their like to find yourself gently but emphatically knocked flat back by Foma, before being comprehensively stretched into a series of new sensual shapes.