Despite his rise in popularity, Galcher refuses to play any numbers game, operating instead within the decisive parameters inherent to anonymity, using this freedom to cultivate a signature style with a hybrid of typically divided genres.
Dance music is accessible to anyone—I don’t care if you’re a gangster or a nerd. If you hear a certain groove, it’s going to move you. That’s why I really like to make dance music nowadays. I don’t care if it’s disco or electro or whatever. A good groove is going to move you regardless.
A home grown talent from Jacksonville, Florida, Quavius is a master selector able to flip genres with ease and style. First and foremost though he is a producer determined to get the sound of the South East out into the world.
The reunion of two of our favourite musicians was sure to strike a chord with us and it didn’t fail to impress. As Studio OST, White Material affiliates Galcher Lustwerk and Alvin Aronson have managed to combine each of their singular scopes in one, summoning faded memories and porcelain-fragile ambiences shining with a ghostly glow.
They didn’t turn in a tracklist for the set that they called a “soundtrack mix,” but the hour-and-45-minute excursion soars through the clouds of ambient music’s most gossamer realms—making room for one of Underworld’s most spectral songs as well. It’s blissful, buoyant, and peaceful introduction to what the Studio OST project’s all about if you’re only familiar with the pair’s solo efforts.
Studio OST produces instrumental electronica that is industrial not in sound, but in spirit — music for the proverbial Man at Work. This is proletariat-friendly escapism, made to soundtrack the fantasies that take place both during and after a day of low-quality drudgery. It is at once miraculous and metropolitan, breezy and motorized, soft and synthetic.
It would be wrong to describe the music of Marquavius McDonald, aka Quavius, as hip-house exactly, but the Florida newcomer is a lot more in tune with the underground ethos of the genre’s earliest tracks, blending the hazy mood of cloud rap with classic deep house production.
While [Jeff] Mills sought to critique the ways in which urban centers have been designed and created for us, Galcher and Alvin are using techno, under the influence of science fiction, to consider the possibilities of what a city might become. With atmospheric synthesizers and puttering drum patterns, they evoke a changing urban environment.
Lustwerk’s elegant, melancholy take on deep house is part of a tradition stretching from Larry Heard and ’80s Chicago through 21st-century German labels like Dial and Smallville; it makes Disclosure’s take on “deep house” sound like David Guetta in comparison.
What was it about the mix that felt so endlessly alluring? Its gorgeous meld of tumbling deep house, ambient sketches and carefully selected vocals were defined, yet unplaceable. The mix felt like a blank slate of sorts, just as Lustwerk’s hushed free association word play set the stage and let your imagination fill in the rest. It was open to interpretation, an element fuelled in part by the lack of solid information on its author.
White Material’s king of deep chatty house empties the contents of his psychic record bag