- The tenth Monolake album is Henke's best in a decade, capturing his love of intricate detailing and slippery rhythms.
- Robert Henke operates in a world of his own devising. This is a common cliché to describe techno artists, but for Henke, it's quite literally true. In the late '90s, he and his former university classmate Gerhard Behles teamed up with Bernd Roggendorf to experiment with computer software. The goal was to design a programme that captured their penchant for glitchy and shapeshifting dance music. The result was Ableton Live—a programme that has, perhaps more than any other, revolutionised electronic music production by creating tools intuitive enough for bedroom and big-room producers alike. Although he hasn't worked at Ableton HQ for well over a decade, it's safe to say that Henke knows what goes into music production as well as, or, perhaps more than anyone else alive.
This bit of the German producer's history forms the backdrop of his tenth album, Studio. Written as a homage to his safe space, the studio, the record is a love letter to his tried and true analogue machines and favourite plug-ins. Henke has never been afraid of a concept album, whether that was his never-completed trilogy or VLSI, an LP recorded during a residency at Stanford that explored the origins of electronic music. Studio, however, is something different. Henke has focused on the Platonic elements that make up a Monolake track: light, lithe drum patterns that never sit still, plenty of bass weight and melodies that alternate between cinematic grandiosity and micro-detailing.
For a run in the late '00s through the mid-'10s, it seemed like Henke was putting out an LP every other year. The early releases were on Basic Channel's Chain Reaction label and were case studies in austere dub techno (even if they didn't always hit the mark). But as the millennium marched on, his music got a bit stranger—less recognisably techno as the rhythms strayed from the four-four grid, leaving more room for complexity and melody. 2012's Ghosts remains a high point from this period. On that album, songs like the celestial "Hitting the Surface" present Henke at his best: the tune starts slow and spacious before a slinky garage rhythm emerges from the ether. But across the track, a fizzy sound fades like the dying tail of a firework.
Since that fevered period, he's slowed down considerably, taking his time with each record. That can go one of two ways. We last heard from Henke on 2020's 95-minute opus Archaeopteryx. Released to celebrate 20 years of the Monolake project, that record was an overwhelming swirl of IDM brainworm melodies over syncopated rhythms. It was almost like all that time spent on the record meant he just kept adding more and more ideas to his tracks until they tottered like Babel towers touching the sky. Then, it felt like he'd lost focus on the project's minimalism and was just throwing the kitchen sink at the Ableton grid. By comparison, Studio, his first album in four years, is a return to form.
I'd go so far as to say that the album's foreboding centrepiece, "Thru Stalactites," might be the most Monolake tune ever written. Its expansive stargazing collects short samples—hand drums, metallic clanks and hollowed hammering—that cause you to lean in to pick out Henke's attention to the smallest detail. But just as quickly, dub chords envelop the stereo field, turning it into a Vangelis symphony soundtracking the wide-screen. This playful back-and-forth between empty space and minute ornamentation gives the record brilliant textural layers that run through the chromatic techno of "Cute Little Aliens." Panning, hand drums and Berlin-school closed hi-hats set the stage for little gurgling creations, what Henke calls in the liner notes to the album, "digital creatures" that emerge as distinct little characters in the track.
Henke's return to the roots of the Monolake project also means his return to his love for low-end frequencies. "Global Transport" sounds like Kraftwerk making dubstep, full of stuttering auto-tuned vocals and plucked bass that add Autobahn velocity to the slinky, syncopated riddim that rides underneath. He reprises that kosmische camp on "Red Alphonso," but here, the dainty synthetic harp and driving bassline provide the giddiness you might hear on labels like Wisdom Teeth or Third Place. He goes even wilder on closer "Eclipse," where duelling drums try to outgun each other like a Wild West stand-off between robots playing out in a galactic future.
What's refreshing about these moments on Studio is that it sounds like Henke is having fun. While releases like Archaeopteryx leaned overly academic, here he shows his goofier side: like on "Stasis Field," where amid the sluggish and stoned minor key melodrama, a Miami Vice-style bassline peaks through to shake its tail feathers. Or about halfway through the dissonant "The Elders Disgrace," when he adds an almost comically flat snare. It's a knowing wink that reminds me of Austin Powers pulling out his mini pistol to take down Dr. Evil. These are songs made with serious intention, but even Monolake knows that even a horror film needs a bit of comic relief.
Lista de títulos01. The Elders Disagree
02. Thru Stalactites
03. Signals
04. Cute Little Aliens
05. Intermezzo
06. Global Transport
07. Stasis Field
08. Prime Lundy
09. Red Alphonso
10. Eclipse