by Rob Theakston
You have to give a nod of the head to Apparat for Duplex. In a year when the market has been flooded with glitch madness, Apparat (aka Sascha Ring) offers up a full length that stands apart from most in terms of sheer quality. Duplex is melodic and emotional like Telefon Tel Aviv, but without the cleanliness for which TTA is known. This is dirty and raw without all of the digital fuss that most IDM producers toil long and hard to achieve, and Apparat pulls it off with deceptive simplicity. Digital mosquitoes flickering and fluttering throughout the opening track ("Granular Bastard") and haunting vocals that recall classic Peter Gabriel on "Contradiction" help to drive home that this is going to be anything but predictable. It's glitchy, but doesn't subscribe to many of the basic tenants that plague the glitch/microhouse subgenres, and listening to the album in its entirety can be an exhilarating and inspiring listen, or a completely exhausting one depending on your state of mind before popping the CD in the tray. But either way, Duplex stirs the gamut of emotions so deeply and honestly that it's hard to walk away and not feel something. And after all, isn't that what of the core principles music (and art) are supposed to provide?