|
|

|
| |
| |
 listen at fabriclondon.com |
FABRIC 45 OMAR S-DETROIT |
| |

"Fabric 45" from Omar S is a beacon to all serious house fans. This sublime album epitomizes progressive house. Omar S's subtle DJing plays you like a fiddle with his evolution of texture. He sneaks up on you. From the droning, electronic thrum that is the primordial soup from which this CD grows, Omar S creeps like good weed - before you know it there's a beat. He's stealthy, there behind you before you know it, confounding you, disturbing you and, most importantly, mesmerizing you. Piece by piece a new layer is added whilst another slips away. It's so deep you are forced to focus in, zero-ing your third eye into the middle of this. An uncanny reserve is the trojan horse for arresting vividity. The psychotropic sublimity of sound that swells along the arc of reality's foundational fabric is the gateway through which we are sucked - head and ears first - through to the other side of the mirror. Are we looking at ourselves in reverse? From whence is Omar S looking at us? Does he stand in the slot of God while we the freshly enlightened mystics are submerged in a bath of inner light? I'm being melodramatic, but damnit it kinda feels that way. So deceptively simple. A series of blips, perhaps, stuttering with a snarky-sparky little rhythm while the whump of bass throbs through previously unlit parts of your gray matter - this creates a wicked rhythm demanding of worship. And that's just one of the tracks that ploughs right through you. Or, rather, given this CD's sublime traits, maybe it's better to say it's a grimly blissful sword on which we gladly impale ourselves. Powerful, enchanting like the voice of God on Sinaii but with none of that bombast. The great Brahma is seen - heard - incarnated, mystical divinity as sound. An aural aura of deity penetrating us with all the untouchable depth of an immortal's skull cracked open for its black, holy blood to drop one galvanizing droplet onto our tongues, which have tasted but hints of this before. I'm sticking my neck out - this may be one of the best damn house CDs. Ever. Five stars. Five stars. Five stars. This is a mountaintop experience for a music reviewer, and, indeed, any music fan. I hope I haven't held out unreachable hope with glorious, effusive words, but I can't help the overflow of praise. A religoius experience. Touch God's face with your fingers. Buy this CD. Evolve.-- review by Kristofer Upjohn
|
| |
|
 |
|