µ-Ziq: Grush (Planet Mu Records)
Mike Paradinas's μ-Ziq outfit has been troubling our delicate china for over 30 years. His first album, Tango N' Vectif on Rephlex Records, was released in November 1993, when Meatloaf's I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That) was at the top of the pop charts. Aphex Twin had only released one album at that point.
A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then. Meatloaf has had 500 more number one singles. We've had 52 prime ministers. Everybody has flying cars. Probably. I haven't really been paying attention. He now brings us Grush, his 17th µ-Ziq album.
This is, he says, a "back-to-first-principles", an album to put the "dance" back into "intelligent dance music". This is indeed an adventure in rhythm, with all the delightful effect of having several entire drum kits thrown at your face for the best part of 56 minutes.
Hyper Daddy is spidery rave awash with sad chords, its viscous piano reminiscent of a early Aphex Twin. Over skipping drums, Magic Pony Ride (Pt.4) teases us with a simple music box melody. Windsor Safari Park is all anticipation, a tiny insectoid rave, that then melts into a Cosmic Baby-sized melodic hug. His ability to hold tension then transport a track into a new melodic direction keeps the album vying for our attention.
He nails the small stuff. The slurpy arpeggios of Imperial Crescent. The clonking woodblocks of Belvedere. The trip hop drum-play of Hastings. The vocals on Manscape, a spiritual successor to Belfast. A distant squeal. An opening gasp. All those little details, those tiny (g)rushes of delight.
As with Squarepusher's album, he invokes structure using quieter with a softer melodic palate, each connected by the word "Reticulum". Despite sounding like a medical instrument designed to go up your bum, these are welcome sorbets to lighten the meal.
Paradinas has had plenty of opportunities to top my annual best-album list in the past. I'm saying it like it's his fault. Challenge Me Foolish barely made the cut in 2018, same for his Secret Garden in 2021, his "sad cry emoji" collaboration with Mrs Jynx.
Chewed Corners came closest, with 8th place in 2013. Scurlage made the top ren in 2021, although I wasn't numbering specific positions that year. Hello registered 10th place in 2022 ("Paradinas being Paradinas at his most Paradinas").
So congratulations to the µ man. I guess. He has the best electronic music album of 2024 – official. I was convinced that Kelly Lee Owens or Squarepusher would claim the 2024 top spot, but I think there's a reason why Grush resonated with me harder, deeper, wider, longer, and oh crap I've run out of dimensions.
Last year's stroke changed things. I can no longer entirely trust my vision because of the damage to a bit of my brain. What I see on a day-to-day basis is a little less certain, so I make up for the sight loss through habits, technology and stubbornness. Full disclosure: I walked out in front of a car the other week because my knackered neurons made that car momentarily disappear. Life is a few percentage points more precarious than before.
µ-Ziq has been around for almost all of my adult life. I have known this music act longer than I knew my own parents. During my recovery, I wonder if there's a part of me that needed to connect to something that felt like certainty. To music that had soundtracked my life for a very long time. A second disclosure: Grush is the only album this year that made me tear up. That alone merits a number one position.
I bet the psychologists among you are loving this, you weirdos. I realise I'm posting this blog series the 'wrong' side of new year, but thanks for reading in 2024. We're gonna grush– er, I mean– crush 2025.
This is part of a series, currently live-blogging on 3, 4 & 5 January 2025. Read the posts so far.
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