Review Summary: Rustie raises the bar by losing it in a maze
It would seem that there's something diabolically intriguing brewing deep in the bowels of Glasgow. Watching Hudson Mohawke and Rustie emerge out of the cold and damp suburbia has been an incredible and quirky observance, not unlike their meteoric rise into the cosmos they now occupy. Hudson became the immediate star he was destined to become, his success long assured even before he dropped his hot to trot debut long player,
Butter. Rustie, the black sheep of the duo, was a little more quizzical in his approach though, his journey marked with detours and occasional missteps and oddities, his addition to the Crookers catalog bemusing and languid. The
Bad Science ep was a bounce back though, a jolt that hit the mark square in the middle and reinvigorated all the the hype surrounding his twitchy brand of wonky hip hop and amorphous dubstep. And of course, that hype would only grow come the news of Rustie's signing to the infamous Warp label, coincidentally signing up to the same imprint as his fellow Glaswegian immigrant. And perhaps it was that return to familiar faces that bought Rustie to this point, releasing
Sunburst and finally setting the record straight in regards to what waters he's actually dipping his feet into, but only setting it straight by zig-zagging across it, careening around the typical landmarks with a wild and reckless perversity. But hey, this is Rustie, so nothing out of the ordinary.
By “nothing out of the ordinary” I mean exactly that, but that's of course if you understand the concept that while you and I might have a similar idea as to what “ordinary” actually is, Rustie will more than likely have a considerably differing opinion. Actually, scratch “more than likely”, it's an obvious certainty. Take the opener 'Neko' for example; it's a simple and easy to digest preface, fairy tale bells and jingles ringing out like a hypnotic symphony. Well until he bursts his own hazy bubble that is, as he replaces that childlike innocence with distorted and pinched synth guitars and rolling percussion, the guitar literally dripping all across the board, oozing into every facet of the track's production. It's essentially a shake up, a rabble rowser designed to blow away the doubt that had been creeping in. 'Dragonfly' marks the extended play's true beginnings though as Rustie draws in a plethora of sonic intricacies and buries them deep in the turbulence he creates so easily. There's this sense of things constantly boiling and consistently gaining in pressure, he skews his female vocals over towering build ups, each one progressively more bolder than the last, all of them playing off the bubbling and rippling nature of the cut. 'Beast Nite' plays out its Nintendo-esque playfulness with a biting glee, content with its lazy yet rhythmic undertones, while 'Chew' stops that carefree nature with something more frenzied and monstrous, its intricacies fighting to be heard over the growl and clatter of the bass. 'Hyperthrust' (playing to its name) is the true breath of fresh air though, a fitting closer that bounces along at a restless pace, constantly taking in new influences and spitting them out in all directions, all of them drained, assimilated into the detailed jumble.
If there's one thing that Rustie can claim is that there truly isn't anyone around at the moment quite like him; yes Hudson Mohawke bears certain similarities and it's also obvious to assume that the Glaswegian cosmonaut has been taking certain cues from the glitchy and twisted hubbub that's being beamed out of planet Los Angeles, but his output is on a slightly different level, a little more bent and skewed. Straight forward, but in a roundabout kind of way. Like a maze with an obvious route, but still containing enough twists and turns to confuse the hell out of you, if only for a moment. Grab Rustie, and find yourself lost, find a way out, grab a map and do it all over again.
