(M3rck/Couchblip!)

Finnish IDM / electronic producer Juho Hietala’s debut offering as Blamstrain through US imprint M3rck (home to the likes of Mr. Projectile and Adam Johnson), 2003’s ‘Ensi’ showed him weaving together a deep and intricate blend of techno, electro and ambient elements to create a blend similar to that explored by Funckarma and Isan, somewhat belying his explosive-sounding moniker. This companion remix album, imaginatively titled ‘Remixed’ sees ten different tracks from ‘Ensi’ receiving the remix treatment from an extensive lineup of leftfield electronic / IDM names such as Isan, Lackluster and Proem, alongside one completely new track by Blamstrain himself. And, in an enigmatic twist, all of the tracks included here are simply labeled ‘untitled’, which means that there’s an element of mystery here – although you know who’s doing the remixing, you never quite know quite which track it originally was.

Mesak (one half of Finnish duo Mr. Velcro Fastener) opens proceedings with a gorgeous slice of melodic ambient electro that gradually introduces a sharp-edged breaker’s snap to the gathering furious rhythms below as soft trailing Detroit-esque synth patterns play over the top in a moment that’s reminiscent of Plaid’s work. Fellow M3rck artist Proem introduces a hard metallic edge, with abrupt pulsing rhythms and laser-gun style zaps popping and crackling their way over an ominous buzzing backdrop of bass synths and shimmering ambient effects, before Funckarma drops the pace down whilst also injecting some subtle hiphop elements into his reworking, undulating seismic bass drops and even a slight hint of digital funk lurking behind its stuttering rhythms and washes of synthetic dub ambience. Gridlock contributes a stunning reworking that slowly emerges from trailing harmonic drones into crunching industrial-edged rhythms, slow downtempo snares making their way around an emotive ambient backing that ventures through almost Dead Can Dance-esque film score grandeur with a serenity that somehow fits perfectly with the fierce buzzing processed warfare going on below, while Mosaik takes things right into icy ominous IDM electro, with some arpeggiated melodies that call to mind Aphex’s ‘Icct Hedral’ picking their way delicately with sinister precision over a stripped-down but still buzzingly contorted backing of hyper-edited rhythms.

Taho’s reworking offers another of this collection’s highlights, with clicking broken electro rhythms making their way through a vast backdrop of synthetic droning ambience that builds and builds, suggesting some meeting point between Funkstorung’s funk-infused crunchiness and Eno’s ‘deep-blue-sky’ widescreen atmospherics, before Syndrone’s remix takes things deep into whirring, buzzing darkness, furious Squarepusher-esque rhythms powering their way against a vast droning void that eventually engulfs the entire track. Personally, I thought the two extended ambient closer tracks here represented the absolute standout moments here, with No Xivic’s nine-minute long epic reworking emerging slowly from the sampled sound of rainfall amidst vast orchestral drones that call to mind the film score for ‘Baraka’, before the rainfall subsides and the distant sounds of birdcall slowly washes back in around echoing Buddhist-chant vocal intonations, while Blamstrain’s own contribution takes this collection to a close amidst a vast trailing echo of ambient drones, the vast backing slowly condensing like a jet trail into a dull roar.

A stunning remix album featuring a diverse range of reworkings that manage to take Blamstrain’s original productions in some quite disparate sonic directions, all the while retaining a cohesive atmosphere of deep IDM electro that lends this collection the feel of an artist album proper, rather than a collection of remixed tracks. Deep, intricate electro landscapes with a vast emotive pull behind the detailed programming – fans of the likes of Chis Clark, Plaid and Autechre should definitely investigate Blamstrain.

Check out http://www.blamstrain.com and http://www.couchblip.com.